“Uh oh,” she grumbles under her breath, still with that frustratingly annoying grin on her face. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Damn straight there is. I mean, what’s this big fucking secret anyway? What are they always up to?”
She draws in a breath. “You know I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but it’s not my place. To be honest, I don’t know why he doesn’t just come clean. It’s not like it’s that bad. And fuck, it would make things so much easier.”
I narrow my eyes on her as the frustration nearly becomes unbearable. “Just… please?”
She shakes her head. “Trust me, I’m more scared of what Noah and Rivers would do to me if they knew I caved than what you could do to me if I don’t.”
I let out another groan. I shouldn’t be putting her in this position anyway. It’s her brother and one of the closest friends she has. I don’t want to be responsible for causing drama between them, but it’s so damn annoying. All I want is a simple explanation as to where the fuck those big bastards keep disappearing to. I mean, my head is starting to get filled with all sorts of scenarios, each one worse than the last.
“Damn it. I love him, but I swear, he’s so damn frust-”
Tully sucks in a breath and her words tumble out in a rushed gasp. “You love him?”
My head whips around to face her as my eyes widen in fear. Shit. What the hell did I just say?
I swallow back as the words become a jumbled mess in my head. I didn’t just say that I love him, right? And in front of Tully of all people. What the hell was I thinking? She’ll have our wedding planned by the end of the night, our baby names picked out, and a house in a quiet street with a white picket fence just waiting for us to buy “Ummmmm…”
“Wooooooo. I fucking knew it,” she booms, fist bumping the horn and letting the whole fucking world know how thrilled she is.
I scramble across the front seat, diving for her hand to stop her honking again. “Cut it out,” I shriek. “I didn’t… I don’t.”
“Ah, but you do.”
“Stop. Just… don’t tell him ok. I don’t even…”
“Spit it out,” she demands, rolling her eyes but not managing to rid herself of the cheesy as fuck grin across her face.
“The words just slipped out. I haven’t even really thought about it. You know, if I do… or not.”
“You do,” she confirms.
“And how the hell would you know that?”
She wiggles her fingers towards me. “Call me psychic,” she laughs. I smack her hand away and fix her with a stare, terrifying enough to bring down the worst kind of guys. Tully sighs. “Just, trust me, ok? You do. You look at Noah like the world starts and ends with him. It’s all in your eyes. But honestly,” she adds, scrunching up her face. “I don’t really get it. The guy is a super turd. Like, have you ever used the bathroom after him? Believe me, it’s not nice.”
“Stop,” I laugh. “I don’t want to hear about your brother’s bathroom habits.”
“Look,” she says. “You’re my girl and I think it’s only fair that you know what kind of guy yourself getting yourself involved with.”
“Don’t,” I warn her. “I don’t want to hear about the porn stash and spank sock under his bed or how many apple pies he ripped through as a kid.”
“Yuck,” she howls, waving her manicured hands around, trying to get the image out of her head. “That’s undoubtedly the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh, yeah?” I challenge her. “Then I should tell you about the time he got me on my-”
“STOP,” she squeals. “You win. Ok. Just… stop. I can’t handle it. I think I’m going to hurl.”
I grin back at her, proud as hell of my afternoon’s accomplishment. Getting one over Tully Cage is not the easiest feat, but this one came too easy. I just wish I hadn’t opened my mouth to start with. I mean, ‘I love him’ just sort of slipped out. Do I love him? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe. I’m definitely falling for the guy, but have I already fallen?
Shit. This is too fucking hard. I can’t handle it.
Tully turns down my street and before long, she’s coming to a stop at the top of my drive with us both gawking at the sight before us. “I guess that answers where he’s been all afternoon.”
“No shit,” I breathe as a slow but suspicious smile creeps across my face, seeing my boyfriend leaning shirtless over the open hood of the old pick up while my dad sits back, frowning at the old hunk of metal before him.
I wipe at my face. Am I drooling? Because I sure as hell should be. Seeing Noah working on the truck I drive has me feeling all sorts of good inside. The way his body rolls with each movement. The way his muscles bulge as he tightens bolts. The ways the ink across his skin seems to dance as the sheer layer of sweat upon his skin glistens in the sun.