34. Do you, or have you ever wanted to sleep with Sam? If so, am I a consolation prize now she’s with Scott?
She nodded grimly then locked her phone. Whatever happened this evening, she was going to ask Noah everything she wanted to know. Which as of now was thirty-four separate things.
She held up a baggy Panda t-shirt she’d brought to clean in. This would do. It would remind her she was going to him as a detective, as a journalist, as Miss freaking Fisher. She was not—not!—going to sleep with him. She put on the t-shirt and an old pair of denim shorts. Her phone vibrated and she looked down, expecting to see Noah’s address. It was a text from Aaron.‘Call me.’
Her finger hovered over the little phone icon, then she moved it away. They would have to talk eventually, but not right now. She needed her wits about her. Even though she and Aaron were over, and her sisters weren’t entitled to every detail of her life, she felt guilty about the kiss she and Noah shared in the kitchen. It was strange to feel guiltier about that, than him giving her an orgasm in his tattooing chair. But that had been panicked and purely sexual, the kiss on the other hand... it came loaded with implications.
Nicole cupped the back of her neck, echoing the way he’d held her. The numbing bliss of it all had to be an exaggeration. It just couldn’t have felt that good. She stroked her palm across her right breast, feeling her nipple harden. He’d been so controlled, so comfortable giving her pleasure. She’d never been with a man who needed so little reassurance to make her feel good...
Sam pushed open her door. “Knock, Knock. What are you up to?”
Nicole tore her hands away from herself. “Nothing!”
“Are you doing yourself standing up?”
“No! God, you’re so gross!”
Sam raised her hands. “It’s not an accusation. There’s nothing wrong with doing yourself.”
Nicole shoved her feet into her runners. “I know! I got the same speech when we were kids.”
“Yeah, that was brilliant of dad, wasn’t it? Girls never get told they should knock out a few solo runs before they have sex and it’s fucked.”
Nicole didn’t say anything. She’d done time in therapy, dissecting what it meant to be a prude in a family of ‘live and let live’ hippies. Two years and five thousand dollars to learn what she already knew—her mother’s abandonment and Greyson’s carelessness had left her terrified of sex. And being terrified of sex was twenty times harder when you were surrounded by people who talked about sex as though it was Monopoly or something. But that was her problem, not something she had a right to burden the Tinder-happy population with.
She tied her laces in triple knots. “Do you need something?” she asked Sam.
“Nah, Scott and I are getting Vietnamese, do you want anything?”
“No thanks, I’m going out.”
Sam eyed her t-shirt and shorts. “Where?”
“Coffee with Amberley,” Nicole lied. “From school, remember?”
“No,” Sam said with the apathy she had for everyone they went to school with. “Are you wearing makeup?”
Nicole touched her cheek. “No. Why, is it noticeable? Does it look bad?”
“No. I’m just surprised. I haven’t seen you go out without makeup since…” Sam made a face. “Your whole adult life? And most of your teen years?”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Sam said, clearly not believing her. “What gives?”
“I’m just trying to be more relaxed about the way I look.”
The pride in Sam’s face was equal parts endearing and offensive. Was she really such a basket case? God, Sam didn’t even know she’d been debating lip injections. Or her plans to get rid of her tattoo. Nicole tugged her sleeve over her watch strap. “Okay, I should get going.”
“To see Amberley?”
Nicole couldn’t meet her twin’s eyes. “Yeah.”
Sam frowned. “Nix, are you up to something?”
Nicole hesitated. She could tell her sister she was going to see Noah, but that would mean unloading everything that had happened, and her suspicion Noah was a bikie. She loved Sam, but she got mad first and asked questions later—as her boyfriend could attest. When they were kids, Scott had accidentally gotten on Sam’s bad side and she’d built a website to auction off his virginity.
Her phone vibrated and this time she knew it was Noah texting her his address. Her stomach squirmed like live snakes. “I’m not up to anything,” she told Sam. “Can I please borrow your car?”