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Noah stood in the shower with one hand braced against the black tile wall, his head bowed as hot water ran down the back of his neck. Steam filled the bathroom like fog, blurring the full body mirror opposite the glass. 

Good. He didn’t particularly want to look at himself right now. Not after eight hours on a red-eye flight from London while his body ran on nothing but a cheap protein bar and two coffees. He hadn’t slept, he couldn’t sleep, and his body couldn’t even tell what time it was anymore. 

He tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the water ran through his hair before spiralling down the drain, carrying away the smell of airplane and weeks spent living out of a suitcase. His muscles ached from sleeping in cramped bunks on the tour buses, hauling heavy luggage through terminals and sitting in vans and planes for hours on end. 

He straightened up and rolled one shoulder, letting out a groan when it cracked loudly. 

So fucking old. He thought to himself. Though thirty wasn’t old, not in the slightest, it just felt that way after six weeks on the road, travelling through Europe. 

He landed just less than an hour ago, and he dropped his bags by the front door and immediately headed into the bathroom. He’d deal with unpacking later, he’d deal with missed calls and emails and whatever else was waiting for him later. 

After shutting off the shower, he finally noticed just how quiet his apartment (penthouse, he’s just humble) was. He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water disappearing into the expensive rug beneath his feet as he made his way into the kitchen. The place looked exactly how he’d left it, spotless, almost too clean- despite him telling his cleaner not to bother coming while he was on tour, but still paid her anyway. 

He stopped beside the kitchen island, and opened the fridge. Inside, he found a couple bottled waters, half a lemon and expired oat milk. He stared at it for a moment before shutting the door again. 

Food could wait. Everything could wait. 

He shook his head, and was about to make his way to the bedroom when his phone buzzed on the counter. 

Davis: Land safe?

He unlocked his phone and typed with tired fingers. 

Noah: Yeah. Got back an hour ago. 

Davis: Good. Get some rest dude, you deserve it 

He huffed a humourless laugh and tossed his phone back onto the counter. 

If only it worked like that. 

He knew he needed sleep, he was exhausted, every muscle in his body was screaming for rest, his eyelids burned and his head felt heavy… but he knew himself too well. If he climbed into bed right now, he’d stare up at the ceiling, eventually reach for his phone and scroll through twitter, reading comments he shouldn’t read. Maybe eventually he’d move into the studio and open up his laptop, start tweaking some demos for the next album, then start panicking about the next album. Worrying whether it’s good enough, thinking about streams and people’s expectations until the pressure would send him into a spiral. 

His brain didn’t know how to stop when he was at home, or at least not on it’s own. 

So he dragged his suitcase into the bedroom, and dropped it onto the bed. He dug through it until he pulled out a pair of black jeans, a tshirt that didn’t cling to him, and a pair of boxers that he hoped were clean. He quickly got dressed and half heartedly dried his hair with his towel before reaching for his black baseball cap that had dropped onto the floor. 

He caught his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted it on his head- his bloodshot eyes and dark circles, the way tour seemed to physically age him another thirty years. 

He just stared at himself for a moment before his eye caught his suitcase in the reflection. He should stay home, he should unpack, he knew that. Any sensible person would’ve climbed into bed and slept for twelve hours… instead, Noah found himself wandering towards the front door and reaching for his car keys. 

Because there was only one thing he could think about during the entire flight home. Not his bed, not the new album, not even seeing his friends. It was you. 

He didn’t have your number, he never asked for it, it never felt right, because everything about the two of you existed within the walls of the club. There was something comforting about that, though. There were no expectations, no texts late at night, no need to wonder if he was bothering you on your day off. He just had to turn up to the club, walk through the doors and you were there. 

But sometimes you weren’t. 

And if you weren’t, he’d nurse a whiskey, chat to the bartender for a while, tip the girls who came over to say hello then head home. But he knew that wouldn’t be the case tonight, since he knew for sure that you were working. Before he left for Europe, the bartender told him that you’d picked up Thursdays now that one of the other girls had left. So before he even left for the tour, he knew exactly where he’d be on the night he came home. 

He barely remembered getting in his car, but now he was at the club, walking up the door with his head down.

“Look who finally decided to come home!” The bouncer grinned, making Noah look up and give a tired smile. 

“It’s been a long six weeks.” Noah sighed, and the bouncer nodded his head before stepping aside to let him through. 

“Good to have you back.” 

“Good to be back.” He said with a nod, though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true. 

But it didn’t matter anymore once he stepped inside, the smell of perfume, cologne and alcohol all mixed together as coloured lights swept across the room. Nothing had changed in the time he’d been gone, everything was still in the same place, they were still playing the same music, the same bartender was polishing glasses behind the counter. 

He let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, then his eyes found you. You were on the stage, you must’ve been halfway through your first set tonight. 

He smiled to himself when he saw what you were wearing. The most gorgeous lacey lilac two piece that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wondered just how many outfits you had, since last time you were in emerald, and before that it was red, baby pink, silver, and he could never forget when you were in black the first time he came here.

You looked beautiful as ever tonight. Your hair was even curled, and it gently bounced as you moved beneath the lights. The crowd was eating it up- there were a group of businessmen at the front who looked hypnotised, and a couple guys he guessed were rather drunk, throwing handfuls of bills onto the stage. 

You gave a polite smile, gracious and professional as you twirled around the pole again. Oh how he had missed watching you…

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite rockstar.” Noah looked over to see one of the girls who worked here, Lila, smiling brightly and looping an arm loosely through his. “You’ve been gone forever.” 

“Six weeks.” He nodded. 

“See,” she pouted, “Forever!” 

He laughed softly, a warm smile creeping onto his lips. 

“Good to see you.” He said. 

“You too.” She said, before stepping back to take a proper look at him. “...Shit. You look exhausted.” 

“I am.” He quietly admitted. 

“You want some company?” She asked casually. And there was no pressure, because she knew the answer already. 

“I appreciate it,” Noah said with an apologetic smile, “But…”

Her eyes followed his, and they led straight to you. She laughed, though he could tell she was a little disappointed. 

“I should’ve known.” 

He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise,” she said, playfully nudging his shoulder, “She’s been wondering when you’d come back. I think your booth’s empty if you’re heading over there.” 

He nodded his head. 

“Thanks.” 

Lila gave him a smile, gently squeezing his arm, before turning around to head back into the crows. But Noah just managed to call out,

“Wait!” 

She slowly turned around, and Noah was already reaching into his pocket for his wallet, then he handed her a little stack of bills. 

“Have a good night.” 

…

Noah sat in the secluded booth that had somehow become his over the past year, he had his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey that he’d been nursing for the past ten minutes while he watched you. 

You had no idea he was there, or maybe you did, he couldn’t tell. Still, he didn’t wave or try to catch your eye. He didn’t want to pull your attention away from your work. Not when this was your stage, your time, he was quite content to sit in the dark corner with his drink, letting his thoughts start to slow down.

And like usual in this place, he completely lost track of time. It was impossible not to when you would spin so effortlessly beneath the lights, when the way you moved your hips were hypnotic. He sank back into his seat, his legs spread beneath the table as his fingers tapped against his glass. 

Then before he knew it, your set was over. He watched you flash that professional smile before disappearing behind the velvet curtain at the back of the stage. He smiled to himself, then finally took another sip of his drink, which had now been watered down by the melted ice, though he didn’t mind. 

He was too busy imagining you backstage with the other girls, kicking off the towering heels for a few blessed minutes, complaining to the other girls about how your feet hurt- he’d heard that complaint from you enough times. He imagined you touching up your makeup, fixing your hair, drinking half a bottle of water in one go.

“So you finally remembered where we keep the door.” A warm and teasing voice spoke. "I thought maybe you found a better club."

He suddenly looked up, and there you were. Your lipstick had been reapplied, though it was a little smudged on the bottom, the pretty little outfit you had on had been covered up by an oversized black zip up hoodie, the hood pulled up over your head while the sleeves drowned you. And clearly you were giving your feet a break, since you were walking around in a pair of fluffy pink sliders. 

You looked human, like a regular person, not the dazzling performer he and everyone else had just watched on the stage. 

You slid into the booth, letting out a sigh as you sat down, resting your feet in his lap. But when you looked at him properly… your smiled disappeared. 

“Jesus, Noah.” You winced. 

“What?”

“You look like shit.” 

He scoffed, setting his glass back down onto the table. 

“Wow, thanks. Here I was thinking you were coming over to say welcome home.” 

You smiled, tilting your head.

“Where have you been?” You asked softly, and he rubbed his eyes. 

“Europe. Got back two hours ago.” 

“And you came straight here?”

He nodded. 

“I showered first, didn’t think you’d want me smelling like airports.” 

You let out a soft chuckle, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Well, thank you for that.”

“I thought you’d appreciate the effort.” He smirked. 

“I do.” You nudged one of his knees gently with your slipper. “You look a lot cleaner than the last time you stumbled in after a flight.”

He smiled, the corners of his tired eyes softening. God, he’d missed this, he missed someone talking to him like he was just… Noah.

You studied him for another second, then your smile faded and your voice softened. 

“How long have you actually been awake?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“Noah.”

“Well, I slept for maybe…” He squinted as he thought. “Fifteen minutes on the plane?”

You frowned. Poor thing. He looked so tired and so tense, and instead of being tucked up in bed he was here. You didn’t wonder why, you knew exactly why he was here, even if he never told you. 

You leaned back into the booth, stretching one arm over the backrest before glancing towards the stage

“Y’know, I’m on my break at the moment. I’ve got about…” You checked the clock mounted above the bar. “Forty minutes until I gotta go back out there. There was a guy asking if I could give his friend a private dance.” You looked back at him, and he was nodding slowly. “And I was going to spend it backstage until I saw you.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, and thoughtfully tapped your long nails against the table. “Y'know... one of our private rooms are empty.”

His eyebrow lifted as he picked his glass back up. 

“And you look like you could use a dance.” You added.

He smiled into his whiskey.

“I probably could.”

You watched him for another second, thinking something over in your mind. 

“…Or.” You rested your chin in your palm. “I could give you a massage instead. You look pretty tense.”

He scoffed. 

“You’re telling me. I’ve spent six weeks sleeping in a tour bus.”

You frowned. 

“Must be pretty hard for a big guy like you,” you half teased, “I’m guessing the plane wasn’t much better?”

He shook his head. 

“I can tell.” You said softly, “I’ve got some massage oil in my locker.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You do?”

“My back gets tight after dancing.” You sighed.

“Huh.” He hummed. “You offer this to everyone?”

You laughed outright.

“God, no.” You shook your head, “I’d never get any work done.”

He smiled.

“So why me?”

You met his eyes, not sure how to answer that without getting too soppy with it.

“I guess it’s just your lucky day.” You smirked, before reaching over to touch his tense shoulder, “I think I know just what you need.”

He smiled, small and tired, but grateful. 

“Thanks. That sounds good.”

You pushed yourself up from the booth, pulling your hoodie down so it covered your ass.

“Go upstairs, room three,” you instructed, “I’ll grab the oil from my locker, I’ll just be two minutes.”

He nodded, already reaching for his wallet.

“How much do I owe you?”

You looked almost offended.

“Noah.”

“What?”

“I’m on my break.”

“I know, but-”

“No.” You folded your arms. “This one’s not work.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you pointed a finger at him before he could. 

“Don’t.”

A reluctant laugh escaped him.

“I wasn’t going to.”

You rolled your eyes fondly.

“The only thing you owe me… is keeping this a secret.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. 

You turned towards the staff corridor, then glanced back over your shoulder with a smile.

“And Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re home.”

…

Room three was at the end of the corridor, far enough from the main floor that the music had softened and you could just hear the bass thump through the walls.

Noah had barely been inside for thirty seconds before he heard the quiet knock, then the door opened just enough for you to step in.

“Sorry,” you smiled. “One of the girls cornered me to complain about a customer.”

He chuckled.

“It’s okay.”

You nudged the door shut with your foot before holding up a pair of heels that looked more like a torture device.

“So, I have a very important question.”

Noah tilted his head. 

“I’m listening.”

You lifted the heels slightly.

“Do you want me to look…” You made little quotation marks with your fingers. “‘Professional.’ Y’know, lingerie and heels.”

Then you liften and wiggled one foot in the fluffy pink sliders you were already wearing.

“Or… do you mind if I stay like this?”

Noah looked at the heels, then at your hoodie, then at the slippers.

“Is that even a question?”

“Your massage, your choice.” You shrugged. 

He laughed softly.

“You’re on your break, sweetheart. You’ve been working all evening, I’d rather you were comfortable.”

A smile spread slowly across your face.

“I knew I liked you.”

“You weren’t sure before?”

“I was about… seventy percent sure.”

“Only seventy?”

“Yup. Congratulations.” You tossed the heels onto the armchair in the corner dramatically. “You’ve just earned the remaining thirty.”

He laughed, the sound warm enough to make your heart squeeze. Then you walked over to the small table and set the bottle of massage oil down beside a folded towel. Then you looked back at him.

“Okay.” You clapped your hands together once. “Get your ass over here, pretty boy.”

He raised an eyebrow as he wandered over. 

“Bossing me around already?” 

“Mm, I know you love it.” You smirked, pointing down at the plush red L-shaped couch. “Sit.”

Noah huffed a laugh, but still obeyed. He lowered himself onto the corner of the couch with a groan, and in here you could see him better. The dark circles under his eyes were impossible to miss, and there was still that tightness in his shoulders, like he didn’t know how to let them relax. 

You stepped in between his knees, studying him for a second as a frown tugged at your mouth. 

“Wow, you really do look rough.” 

“Aren’t you just full of compliments tonight.” Noah scoffed, a playful smile on his lips. 

You ignored that, and instead reached for his baseball cap, and lifted it from his head, setting it on the table beside the bottle of oil. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, flattened from drying beneath the cap. 

“That’s better.” You smiled. 

You watched as his expression suddenly changed, he almost looked a little shy, and his hand started to rise towards his hair. 

“Nope.” You stopped him, catching his wrist before he could fix it. 

“It’s a mess.” He chuckled. 

“Well, in that case,” you settled onto one of his thighs, facing him, “Can I fix it?”

His eyes met yours, and his voice softened, like he’d been caught off guard. 

“...Yeah.” 

You smiled, and slowly slid your fingers into the dark strands at the back of his head, combing through his hair. As you did so, your long nails scratched gently at his scalp- and Noah’s reaction was immediate. His eyes fell shut, and a long breath escaped him. 

“Oh…” He let out a breathy moan. 

A tiny smile spread across your face as your hands slowly moved up his head, now brushing through the top of his hair. 

“That feel good?” You asked. 

“Mm… don’t stop.” 

You laughed softly and continued, your fingers slowly and gently moving through his hair. Little by little, you felt the tension leave him, his jaw relaxed and his head tipped forward ever so slightly, leaning into your touch.without even noticing. 

Then when you were finally satisfied, you brushed one last strand back from his forehead. 

“Much better,” you smiled, then carefully got up off his lap, “Alright, take your shirt off.” 

He couldn’t help but grin as he reached for the hem. 

“Remind me which one of us works at the strip club?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he pulled it up over his head in one motion before dropping it onto the arm of the couch.

You opened your mouth to say something… but nothing came out. 

…Oh. Wow. 

You’d seen him come in wearing tank tops before, the occasional tight t-shirt… but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. 

He wasn’t enormous, he didn’t look intimidating. He just looked… strong and masculine. Comfortably and naturally. His big broad shoulders tapered into a slutty little waist (sorry), his arms defined from years of lifting equipment instead of chasing impossible proportions at the gym. There were tattoos across his chest and stomach, your eyes drifted over them before settling on the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.

He looked like he took care of himself.

Maybe not as obsessively as some of the other guys you’d seen in here, who make their muscles and bodies their whole personality. But you could tell he put work into his body anyway. 

“You okay?” His voice pulled you back.

You suddenly met his eyes.

“Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

Heat crept into your cheeks.

“Yeah…” A laugh escaped you. “I wasn’t expecting…”

He looked down at himself, confused as to what you’re laughing at.

“What?”

“You look…” You searched for a word that didn’t sound ridiculous. “…really good.”

He gave an awkward little shrug.

“I’ve definitely looked better.”

You shook your head. 

“You know what’s funny?” You asked. 

“What?”

“I’m used to people staring at me. It’s literally my job.”

He nodded slowly, and you smiled to yourself. 

“It’s kind of nice that the tables have turned for once.” You added. 

A soft flush appeared across the tops of his cheeks.

“You’ve made me self-conscious now.” He said, half joking. 

“I promise I’m not judging you.” You insisted, “You’re just… wow.” 

Without thinking, your fingertips hovered near one of the letters tattooed just below his chest, then you paused.

“Can I?”

He glanced down at your hand before nodding.

“Yeah.”

Your fingertips rested lightly against his skin, tracing the edge of the ink with a featherlight touch. Then his stomach tightened involuntarily beneath your hand, and you immediately looked up.

“Sorry.”

“No.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m just…”

“Ticklish?” You smirked. 

“...A little.” He said quietly. 

You smiled warmly.

“Wow, Noah Sebastian's ticklish?”

“Don’t go spreading that around.”

“I don’t know…” You tilted your head thoughtfully. “It’s kind of adorable.”

He groaned.

“I liked you better five minutes ago when you were being nice.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, remembering you were on a time limit. So you turned to pick up the massage oil. 

“Lay flat for me, on your stomach.” 

He obeyed without another word, and you took a step closer to the couch. You then shrugged off your hoodie, not wanting to cover it in oil. 

“Alright.” You said as you tossed it on top of Noah’s tshirt. 

He looked back over his shoulder at you. 

“If anything hurts, tell me. I’m not a professional, so promise you won’t sue me or the club if… I dunno, I break your shoulder or something.”

“I promise.” He laughed, folding his arms and resting his head on them. 

You looked at the couch… then at him… then at the couch. 

“…This is going to be awkward.” You said under your breath. 

“What is?”

“The angle.”

He frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t really reach your shoulders from here, not comfortably at least, so...” You sighed dramatically. “I’m going to have to climb up there.”

“Up there?” 

“On you.” You clarified. 

He bit back a smile.

“I have complete faith in you.”

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t.”

He heard you muttering to yourself as you tried to work out the least ridiculous way to do it.

“Left knee… no… that’s worse.” 

Finally, you carefully climbed onto the couch behind him, balancing yourself with one hand on the backrest.

“This feels very undignified.”

“I wish I could see what you’re doing.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

Another second of shuffling followed…

“There.” You settled yourself down rather comfortably on his butt, your knees on either side of his hips. The position felt quite ridiculous, but it gave you the perfect leverage to reach his broad shoulders. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“…Are you comfortable?”

“I think so.” You smiled, pouring a little oil into your hands, warming it between your palms before reaching for his shoulders. 

“You ready?”

“Mhm.” He nodded into his arms.

Your thumbs pressed gently into the muscles beside his neck, and you immediately felt how tight they were. You worked slowly, using steady pressure rather than force, following the lines of muscle across his upper back. You didn’t realise you were rocking your hips with every movement, but Noah suddenly went very still. 

Every time you leaned forward to put more pressure into your hands, your hips roled, pressing your warm core firmly against the curve of his ass. After a couple of minutes, you felt him move underneath you, his muscles tensing instead of relaxing. 

“You okay down there?” You asked, still rocking slightly as you massaged lower down his back.

Noah’s voice came out a little strained.

“…Yeah. Just… keep going.”

You smiled, completely unaware of this effect you were having on him right now. Your hips continued to roll with the rhythm of the massage, rubbing your barely covered pussy against him over and over. The thin fabric of your thong did almost nothing to hide how warm you felt against him, even through his jeans.

Noah’s hands clenched into fists. His cock was now fully hard, trapped underneath him and grinding against the couch with every little movement you made. The pressure was driving him insane, and he wasn’t even sure you were doing it on purpose. 

You leaned forward again, your breasts brushing against his back this time as you worked on his spine, and let out a soft, focused hum.

“God, your back is so tight…”

Noah let out a quiet, broken sound that he tried (and failed) to disguise as a normal groan. Then, you finally sat back on his butt, still straddling him, and gently patted his side.

“Alright, big guy. Time to flip over. I wanna do your front too.”

Noah didn’t move right away.

“…Uh, okay. Maybe give me a second.” He mumbled into his arm, his voice hoarse.

You tilted your head, curiously.

“Why?” You chuckled.

He let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Because if I turn over right now, you’re going to see exactly what your little massage has done to me.”

A wicked smirk spread across your face. 

“Oh really?” You purred, “You got hard from me sitting on you like this and rubbing your back? Poor baby, were you that wound up?”

“You’ve been rocking your hips on me for the last five minutes,” he rasped, fingers digging into the couch, “What the fuck did you expect?” 

You laughed softly, biting your lip as you leaned forward, pressing your tits against his back while your hands slid down his sides. 

“Mm, I bet your dick's aching, huh?” You whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, “Trapped underneath you, where you can’t touch it… bet you wish it was my hand wrapped around it, hm?”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Noah grumbled, but there was no real complaint in his voice, just strained arousal. 

“I am,” you smirked, sitting up straight and giving his ass a playful squeeze with your thighs. “It’s not every day I get to make a big, sexy guy like you this desperate just by giving him a back massage.” 

You finally climbed off of him, wiping your hands with the folded towel on the table, then looked back over at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

“C’mon, turn over for me,” you said, tapping his side, “Let me see what I did to you.” 

Noah hesitated for a second, then slowly rolled onto his back. And the moment he did, the very obvious, very thick bulge in his jeans was impossible to ignore. Your eyes widened before you let out a delighted little laugh. 

“Wow,” you breathed, staring at him openly, “This all for me, huh?”

You reached out and trailed one finger lightly over up the length of his bulge, not enough pressure to satisfy, just enough to tease. And his hips twitched, a quiet curse slipping his lips. 

“Baby…” He warned, his eyes dark. 

But you just smirked, and swung your leg around him so you straddled him again. You settled your weight on him and slowly rolled your hips forward, grinding your barely covered pussy along the thick length of his cock through his jeans, and you had to bite your lip as your clit rubbed so deliciously against him. 

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying your massage.” You teased, your voice sweet as you started working your hands over his chest and shoulders again. Your thumbs circled his pecs, brushing over his nipples while your hips kept up that slow rhythm.

Noah’s hands flexed at his sides, his jaw tight as he fought to keep his restraint, and he tried to keep his hands off of you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He warned. 

You leaned down, pressing your tits against his chest as you massaged his shoulders, rolling your hips in a way that dragged your pussy right over the head of his cock with every movement.

“Am I?” You asked innocently, lips brushing his collarbone. “I’m just trying to be nice and help you relax all these tight, hard muscles…”

You sat up again, bracing your hands on his chest as you started rocking harder, grinding down on him with more pressure. The friction was perfect- your clit rubbing against his bulge over and over while you pretended to focus on massaging his abs. You almost forgot that you shouldn't be doing this here.

Noah’s breathing grew ragged. His cock throbbed hard beneath you, leaking precum into his boxers.

“Fuck… baby,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

You bit your lip and rolled your hips even slower, dragging your wet pussy along his entire length.

“Good,” you whispered, voice dripping with the teasing sweetness you know how to do so well. “I want to feel how much you like it.”

You kept going, grinding and rolling and pressing down harder with every pass, your own breathing getting heavier as you worked yourself against him. Your hands never stopped moving, sliding over his chest, his tummy, his shoulders, all while you rode his clothed cock like you were in his bed instead of a private room at the work.

Noah’s hands finally snapped up, making you jump as he gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your soft flesh to stop your movement completely.

“Sorry- fuck, stop moving,” he rasped, his voice strained and desperate. His cock was twitching beneath you, and he felt right on the edge. “I’m serious. I’m about two seconds away from cumming in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

You looked down at him with a satisfied little smirk, still gently rocking despite his tight grip.

“Aww, poor thing,” you cooed, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You really are that worked up, huh? Just from me sitting on your lap and giving you a massage?”

Noah let out a shaky breath, thumbs stroking your hips even as he held you still.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathed, his eyes dark with lust. “Keep teasing me like this and I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, and with one last kiss to his neck, you pressed your finger to his lips as if to shush him. 

“Not a sound. Sit up.” You instructed as you stood yourself. 

You turned your back to him for a moment as you gathered your hair and tied it into a ponytail. Then you turned back around, and dropped gracefully to your knees between his spread thighs. You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you warned him as your fingers already started working his zipper, “If anyone finds out I did this- any of this- I could lose my job.” 

Noah nodded quickly, his jaw clenched and eyes half lidded as he watched you. 

You pulled his cock free from his trousers. He was rock hard, big, thick and heavy, the head already glistening with precum. You wrapped your hand around the base and gave him one slow, firm stroke, watching his thighs tense.

Then you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

Noah’s head fell back against the back of couch, a silent, strangled groan caught in his throat as you started sucking him, slow, wet, and sloppy. You took him as deep as you could, gagging softly when he hit the back of your throat, then pulled back with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock.

You looked up at him again, eyes watery but determined, and whispered,

“Not a sound, Noah. Or I stop.”

Noah nodded desperately, biting his lip hard.

You immediately went back down, taking him deeper this time. Loud, wet, filthy sounds filled the private room as you bobbed your head fast. Spit ran down his thick shaft messily, dripping onto his balls while you worked him.

You pulled off just long enough to look up into his eyes and spit on his cock, then stroked him fast and tight while your tongue swirled around the sensitive head, licking up every drop of precum like it was your favourite little treat.

“Fuck… baby-” Noah choked out in a broken whisper, one hand flying to your ponytail.

You moaned around his cock in response, the vibration making his hips jerk. Then you pushed yourself further, relaxing your throat and sinking all the way down until your nose nuzzled against his pelvis. You held him there, your throat fluttering and squeezing around him, glossy lips stretched wide around the base of his cock.

Noah’s whole body tensed, and his thighs started shaking.

You pulled back with a gasp, strings of thick spit connecting your mouth to his cock, leaving a ring of sparkly lips gloss at his base, then you immediately went back to sucking him hard and fast- sloppy, messy, and just straight up pornographic. Your hand stroked the base in time with your mouth while your other hand gently rolled and squeezed his heavy balls.

Fuck, Noah was losing it. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair as he fought to stay quiet and in control. His cock throbbed on your tongue, leaking constantly, then you looked up at him with teary, cockdrunk eyes and moaned again, sucking harder, hollowing your cheeks as you took him as deep as you could.

And that was all it took. Barely three minutes after you’d started, Noah’s hips rutted and his grip on your hair turned almost painful.

“I’m- shit, I’m cumming-” He gasped, his strained voice barely a whisper.

You moaned eagerly and pushed him deep into your throat just as he came. Hot ropes of cum spilled down your throat as his cock throbbed in your mouth. You swallowed around him greedily, milking every drop while he trembled and whimpered quietly above you. Even after he finished, you kept sucking gently, cleaning him up with soft and lazy licks until he was twitching and oversensitive.

When you finally pulled off, you wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb and looked up at him with a wicked little smile.

“Already?” You teased softly, your voice sweet and mocking. “I thought big rockstars like you had better stamina than that, baby. You came so fast… did my mouth feel that good?”

Noah let out a breathless, embarrassed laugh, dragging a hand down his flushed face.

“You’re evil,” he muttered, still trying to catch his breath. “Absolute fucking evil.”

You giggled and kissed the tip of his softening cock before tucking him back into his pants.

“Worth every penny you’re about to spend on me tonight, though… right?” 

Noah sat up slowly, his eyes still dark and hungry as he looked at you kneeling between his legs. He cupped your face with one big hand, his thumb brushing over your swollen, glossy lips.

“Come home with me instead,” he said, his voice rough. “Right now. Fuck the rest of your shift.”

You bit your lip, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Noah… I would but I promised this guy a lap dance in like five minutes. I can’t just-”

“I don’t care,” he cut in, leaning forward so his forehead rested against yours. “I’ll pay for it. I’ll pay triple what he was going to give you. I’ll cover all your house fees for the whole night, plus whatever tip you would’ve made. Fuck it, I’ll even pay the club an extra 2k if it means they’ll let you leave early..”

You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by how quickly and casually he was throwing out numbers.

“Noah… that’s a lot of money.” You said as you stood up, only to be pulled down into his lap again. 

“I don’t care,” he said immediately, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw. “I’ve been stuck on a fucking tour bus for six weeks jerking off to the thought of you every night. I just came down your throat in under three minutes like a desperate loser. I need to return the favour. I need you tonight. All night. In my bed. On my tongue. Riding my cock until sunrise.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours as he kept talking.

“I promise I’ll make it worth it for you, princess. Five thousand. Six if you want. Whatever it takes so you can walk out that door with me right now and not worry about losing money.” His thumb stroked your bottom lip, hsi eyes burning into yours. “So what do you say? Let me spoil you properly. Come home with me tonight and I promise I’ll take care of everything- the club, the money, you. All of it.”

You felt heat pool between your legs at how insistent and generous he was being. The way he was willing to throw money at the situation just to have you. So you smiled slowly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Okay,” you whispered against his mouth. “I’ll go tell everyone I’m sick or something. Give me five minutes.”

Noah’s grip on your hips tightened, and he kissed you harder, deep and possessive.

The sun began to set as the van headed back towards the house. Sophia sat beside Noah in the back row, fighting waves of exhaustion from the day in the sun. Noah looked to Sophia, noticing the sleepy haze in her eyes and pulling her into him. Sophia finally gave in, resting her head against his shoulder as sleep overtook her. The group sat in comfortable silence. Music played softly and eyes gazed out of the windows, taking in the sunset over the silhouette of the mountains. Noah glanced down at Sophia asleep against him. As he looked up, he caught Orie’s eye in the rearview mirror. Noah's stomach tightened.

For a brief second, neither of them looked away. Then Orie's eyes flicked to Sophia, still curled against Noah's shoulder, before returning to the road ahead.

He didn't frown.

He didn't smile.

He simply kept driving.

Noah swallowed hard and rested his cheek lightly against the top of Sophia's head, wondering if that silent exchange had just changed everything. When they made it back to the house, Noah gently nudged Sophia awake. She blinked against the fading sunlight before realizing she'd spent the entire drive curled against his shoulder. The group piled out of the van with the sluggishness that only came after a full day outdoors. Wet towels were draped over porch railings, coolers were lugged inside, and muddy shoes were kicked off by the front door. Dana and Jolly immediately began gathering firewood, determined to make one last campfire before they headed home the next morning. Inside, the house buzzed with overlapping conversations as everyone unpacked, changed into sweatpants, and scavenged the kitchen for anything left to snack on.

By the time the sky had turned deep shades of orange and purple, everyone had drifted back outside. Chairs circled the fire pit once more, beers were passed around, and someone tossed another log onto the flames. The conversation bounced from memories of the trip to jokes about whose turn it was to drive the van, the easy comfort of a group that wasn't quite ready for the vacation to end. Drinks flowed as they relished in the last hours they had left away from reality.

Sophia hugged her knees to her chest, listening more than she spoke as the others laughed and talked. The fire crackled between them, throwing warm light across familiar faces.

"I'm gonna grab a water," Noah murmured, standing.

Sophia looked up. "Can you grab me one too?"

"Come with me."

She hesitated for only a second before following him toward the house. Her eyes followed him as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing the bottles from the fridge. She admired the way his tattooed ribs peaked out from his cut-off shirt. The freckles that spread across his skin from being in the sun. He turned around, a water in each hand, and she ignored the gesture as he extended one her way. Sophia wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. He immediately reciprocated, leaning his tall frame over to deepen the kiss. He took a step forward, pushing Sophia with him, and placed the bottles of water on the counter behind her. His hands found her waist and he lifted her, positioning himself between her thighs. She tangled her hands in his hair and he yanked her hips forward, pressing his already hardened length against her core. Sophia moaned into the kiss at the sudden contact and her hands moved to his chest, slowly sliding down to the waistband of his shorts. He stopped her before her fingers reached beneath, a sigh of a laugh leaving his lips.

“Not here.”

He picked her up once again and Sophia let out a nervous giggle as Noah walked towards his room. He pushed her back against the door as he fumbled with the handle, surging them forward as soon as he got it open. He gently laid her down against the mattress, without ever separating their lips. He continued to kiss her, tongue exploring hers as he grinded into her through the fabric of their clothes. Sophia groaned with desperate frustration and pulled at his shorts. Noah pulled away and smiled.

“Still not satiated after last night, huh?” 

“I waited years for this Noah now take my clothes off and fuck me” Sophia said, crossing her arms dramatically.

“What if I wanted to tease you?” he asked, trailing a hand over her clothed center with a featherlight touch.

Sophia stuck out her bottom lip and furrowed her brows, arching her back and bucking her hips in a desperate pursuit of any friction she could get.

“You’re so cute when you’re all needy like this” Noah said in a sultry whisper, his hands continuing gentle paths over where he knew she wanted him to touch her. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy as fuck but look at you, your little lip out, grinding on my hand in your shorts like a desperate little..” Noah stopped himself suddenly and met her eyes. He didn’t want to get carried away, be too harsh and scare her off.

“Say it.” Sophia purred.

He hesitated a moment before leaving a gentle kiss where her pulse hammered beneath her jaw.

“..like a desperate little whore” Noah whispered into her ear, his voice like gravel.

Sophia threw her head back into the mattress and a devilish grin spread across her lips.

“You like that, baby?” Noah asked.

“Why don’t you reach in my panties and find out” Sophia challenged.

Noah groaned in response “A little brat, I see?” 

Sophia just smiled sweetly and wiggled beneath him.

“Well I know just how to handle that” he said roughly before yanking her shorts and panties down in one quick motion. He gazed down at her, thighs spread open for him, wetness pooled between them.

“Look at that, Orie’s sweet little sister. Cunt dripping wet for his best friend. Got no idea how much of a slut she is.” Noah spread her wetness up to her clit, gently rubbing in small circles, making Sophia squirm. 

“Well you’re the one that went ahead and fucked h-” a sharp gasp cut her off as Noah pushed one finger into her. He said nothing, just gently worked her as she whimpered and bucked her hips. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and watched the euphoric look on her face.

“Noah…more..” she whined.

“You’re gonna take what I give you, Soph.”

Despite being denied, his words sent a buzz of pleasure rushing through her. She sealed her lips and hoped it would reward her in the lung run. Her head spun with desire and her cheeks burned with frustration looking at the smug look on Noah's face. He smirked as he curled one finger inside her, just barely grazing where she needed him most. Her hand traveled down her stomach until it reached her clit, and she began slowly pleasuring herself to relieve the tension. He quickly removed his hand. She leaned up on her elbows and met his eyes. He stood with brows raised and arms crossed.

“By all means if you’ve got it handled, continue.” He reprimanded teasingly.

“No, please Noah I-” Sophia was lost for words. 

“You want my cock and that’s how you’re gonna act? He chided, stepping forward. He removed the rest of his clothes and positioned himself between her. “I’ll take care of you princess, you just haven’t learned yet.”

Noah gripped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the mattress. She looked at him, lips parted and eyes wide as he rubbed the tip of his cock through the wet mess she had made.

“You complain? You don’t cum.” 

With that he thrusted into her, Sophia sighed in relief at the fullness. He rolled his hips, gritting his teeth to suppress the groans he so desperately wanted to let out. She was falling apart beneath him, a whimpering mess as he thrusted in and out of her at an unrelenting pace. Yet somehow his eyes fixed on her face. Her soft light eyes, the waves of her hair as it cascaded around her, her full lips, the pink flush that painted her cheeks. He slowed his movements and cupped her cheek, meeting her lips in a tender kiss. The mood shifted. This wasn’t just to get his mind off of someone else, off of her. This wasn’t a one time hook-up to get his needs met. This was Sophia. There was history between them. Connection. Feelings. 

He maneuvered onto the bed and rolled so she was on top of him. He gently guided her hips up and down with one hand, the other tracing slow patterns along her bare back. She ran a thumb along his jawline as they kissed. Sophia pushed herself up, placing her hands flat on his chest to support herself. The change in angle drew a deep sigh from her. He watched as her body took control over her mind. She bounced and rolled her hips into him, finding whatever felt good. His hands rested on her thighs and she panted as she stared into his brown eyes. 

“That’s it baby, get yourself off” he encouraged her softly. She didn’t respond, just held his gaze as she settled into a consistent pace. He could tell she was close by the way her chest heaved and her hips stuttered every so often. Her eyes screwed shut and she moaned with frustration as her muscles burned.

“I’ve got you” he said, gripping her hips as he thrusted up into her. He could see the tension melt from her face as she gave in and let him take control. Her lips parted and her nails scraped down Noah’s inked chest as her orgasm washed over her. The sweet sting mixed with the feeling of her tightening and squeezing around his length sent him over the edge, and he spilled inside her. 

Sophia collapsed to his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Both of their chests heaved as they caught their breath. After a moment he gently pushed her up to meet her gaze.

“You’re okay? That wasn’t too…much?” he asked, slightly nervous.

She let out a soft laugh, “Nope, not at all. Not. At. All.”

“I guess we have a lot to get to know about each other,” he smirked, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

After taking turns making sure the coast was clear and sneaking to the bathroom, they crept back outside, hoping the guys were too drunk to notice their extended water break.

On their way to the fire pit they crossed paths with Jesse, who paused in front of them. They stood awkwardly as his gaze shifted back and forth between them, eyes squinted.

“Disgusting,” Jesse said, shaking his head “Whores. Both of ya.”

Noah and Sophia shared a glance, laughing to themselves. 

The fire was fizzling out slowly as the rambunctious group encircling it shouted and laughed, their sounds echoing into the woods around. Sophia and Noah meandered to the lake, sitting side by side in the sand. They stared out at the silvery rings that the mood casted on the water. Noah broke the silence.

"I'm gonna talk to him. Tomorrow. When we get home."

Sophia's heart lurched, "So soon?"

"I think we should," Noah nodded.

She pulled her knees closer to her chest, watching the moonlight ripple across the lake.

"What if he gets mad?"

"He might."

"What if he doesn't want you living there anymore?"

Noah was quiet.

"What if he stops working with you?" she continued. "What if this changes everything?"

He picked up a small stone and turned it over between his fingers before answering.

"It might."

Sophia looked over at him.

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"Noah..." her voice softened, "You don't understand how he is with me."

Noah stayed quiet, letting her continue.

"He’s always been… protective. Not in a bad way, just…" she exhaled, searching for the right words. "We moved out here together when I was barely out of high school. It was just us for a while. No parents, no safety net. He kind of had to step into that role."

She glanced down at their hands, now intertwined.

"I think somewhere along the way, it stopped being temporary for him. Like it became his job to make sure nothing ever hurts me. And if something does, he takes it personally."

Her fingers gripped tighter around his.

"I’m not scared of him being mad at me," she admitted quietly, "I’m scared of him thinking you crossed a line. Like you put yourself in a position he feels responsible for or that this is something he should be protecting me from...I don't even know. I'm just scared."

He could sense the emotion in her voice and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

"I don't want you to lose one of your best friends. Either of you."

"Soph" he shifted his gaze between her watering eyes, "I've spent years trying to make sure that didn't happen."

She frowned.

"I didn't want to hurt him," he added quietly. "Or you."

Sophia's chest tightened.

"I thought staying away was the safest way to keep everything from falling apart,” he let out a small breath, “but all it really did was hurt you anyway. Hurt both of us."

Her eyes flickered up to his. The words settled between them.

"I don't regret waiting," he continued quietly. "If I hadn't, maybe we wouldn't be here." His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "But I'm done pretending this isn't worth it."

Sophia felt her eyes sting.

"What if he asks you why?"

A small smile crossed Noah's face.

"I'll tell him the truth."

"What would that be?"

He didn't hesitate.

"That you're worth having an awkward conversation for. That I’d protect you with my life. And a lot more than that, if it comes to it. I mean it, Soph. This isn't just some trip thing for me. I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time. I just didn't think I was allowed to."

Sophia laughed softly through the emotion building in her chest.

"That's not very romantic."

"No,” he smiled, "but it's honest."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting out a quiet breath.

"I think I'd rather have honest."

"So would I."

She was quiet for a moment, watching the water ripple under the moonlight.

"I guess..." she started, a small smile tugging at her lips, "it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

Noah huffed a soft laugh.

"Yeah?"

She nodded against him.

"Yeah. Because this..." she nuzzled her head into his chest, "this was one of the best weeks of my life."

Noah turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

"Mine too."

_________________________________

Morning came far too quickly.

The house that had been loud with laughter only hours before was quiet, save for the occasional zip of a bag and footsteps moving from room to room. The little routines they'd settled into over the past week faded almost as quickly as they'd formed.

Sophia lingered on the porch while the others loaded the van. The lake stretched out before her, perfectly still in the morning light. It was hard to believe that by evening, Yosemite would already be behind them. She still wasn’t entirely sure why Orie had invited her along on a trip with his friends in the first place. It hadn’t felt like his usual style, pulling her into a world he typically kept separate. But whatever his reason had been, she was grateful for it. More than she could put into words.

"Everybody got their stuff?" Orie called.

A chorus of half-hearted replies followed.

Within minutes the house stood empty once again. Doors were locked, one last look was shared between the group, and the van pulled away down the winding mountain road.

The drive home was quieter than the drive out. Sunburnt shoulders rested against windows, headphones found their way into ears, and conversations faded in and out before giving way to comfortable silence. Every so often Sophia caught herself looking out at the towering pines disappearing behind them, trying to memorize one last glimpse of the place that had somehow changed everything.

Beside her, Noah's hand found hers between their seats.

Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to.

As the mountains slowly gave way to familiar roads, the knot in Sophia's stomach tightened. With every mile that passed, they weren't just getting closer to home. They were getting closer to the conversation they'd both been dreading.

By late afternoon, the familiar neighborhood came into view. The van rolled to a stop in the driveway, and everyone climbed, stretching after hours on the road. The driveway quickly filled with backpacks, coolers, and duffel bags. The guys who lived there hauled everything inside, immediately arguing over whose turn it was to do their laundry first. Laughter drifted through the open front door, carrying the last remnants of the trip with it.

Dana slung his backpack over one shoulder and jingled his keys.

"Guess this is where I leave you idiots."

A chorus of goodbyes followed.

"Drive safe." Orie called after him.

Dana climbed into his car, gave one last wave through the window, and disappeared down the street. Sophia smiled to herself before lifting her bags from the back of the van. She carried it across the lawn toward her own car to pack up, fishing her keys from her purse as she walked.

Behind her, Noah watched until she reached the curb.

Then he took a slow breath, turning towards Orie.

"Orie," Noah called, his heart beating so hard it almost made his voice shake.

"Noah" Orie planted his feet and crossed his arms, tilting his head at him.

Noah could hardly breathe, but he glanced back at Sophia as she carefully rearranged her bags to fit inside the tiny trunk of her car. She looked completely unaware of what was happening behind her. He took a steadying breath.

"I wanted to talk to you about... Soph."

Orie's expression didn't change. "I figured."

The response caught Noah off guard. "I know I should've come to you sooner," he admitted. "I never meant for it to happen behind your back."

"You mean sleeping with my sister?"

Noah's stomach dropped. "Yeah."

Silence stretched between them before Noah spoke again. "I care about her," he said quietly. "More than I know how to explain. This wasn't... it wasn't just some vacation thing."

"I know."

Noah blinked. "You know?"

Orie let out a slow breath and uncrossed his arms. "Jesse isn’t the only observant person around here."

A confused laugh escaped Noah. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought I was subtle."

"You weren't." A small smile tugged at Orie's mouth. "And she wasn't exactly subtle either. I've noticed the way you always look out for her." Orie glanced toward Sophia. "She'd come over looking for me and somehow end up talking to you. Asking if you were home from tour yet all of the time because she was 'just curious'."

His eyes drifted back to Sophia.

"I didn't think much of it at first. Just figured you were both comfortable around each other." He shrugged lightly. "Once she and I were settled in here I knew I'd be busy half the time. Running around, dealing with work stuff, on day long shoots, overnights…" He glanced back at Noah. "I didn't like the idea of her being out here without someone I trusted keeping an eye on her, making sure she was never lonely."

Noah stilled.

"And you were already doing that. That's actually why I invited her on the trip."

Noah stared at him. "What?"

"I figured if something was ever going to happen, it'd happen naturally. No pressure. Just time together."

"You invited her because of me?"

"Because of both of you." Orie shrugged. "It was getting painful to watch."

Noah laughed, the tension finally beginning to leave his shoulders.

"I wasn't trying to play matchmaker," Orie continued. "I just got tired of watching two stubborn people convince themselves the other one didn't feel the same, that it wouldn’t work."

His smile faded into something softer. "Look... she's my little sister."

"I know."

"No, you don't." Orie looked toward the house before continuing. "When we moved out here, it was just the two of us. No family. No backup. For a long time, it felt like it was my job to make sure she was okay." His gaze settled on Sophia again. "She's grown now. She's got her own career, her own life. I know she doesn't need me making decisions for her." He paused. "But I'm still her big brother."

Noah nodded.

"I worry about her more than I probably should." Another pause. "When I'm gone working... when life gets busy... I hate thinking about her feeling like she's out here by herself."

Noah listened quietly.

"Then I realized..." Orie looked back at him. "She never really has been."

Noah swallowed hard.

"You've been looking out for her for years without anyone asking you to."

His throat tightened. "I'll keep doing that."

"I know you will."

The words hung between them.

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make her happy."

Orie held his gaze for a long moment before a smile finally spread across his face. "I know."

He stepped forward and clapped Noah on the shoulder. "Just don't make me regret trusting you."

"I won't."

"I know you won't."

Orie started toward the house before stopping. Noah looked up.

"I knew it worked the second I saw her in your hoodie." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You really should've talked to me earlier. The truth is...if she was gonna fall for anybody that I know? I’m really glad it was you."

He disappeared inside before Noah could think of a response.

Left standing alone in the driveway, Noah looked over toward Sophia. She finally closed the trunk of her car and looked up at him. He couldn't help but smile. From the second story a window opened and Jesse's voice rang out.

"So it's OFFICIAL?"

Noah rolled his eyes and shook his head, meeting Sophia halfway in the lawn. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, kissing her softly. Jesse hollers echoed through the screen.

The trip was over, but a new adventure had just begun.

_________________________________

Author's Note: IT'S FINISHED! I'm really happy with how it all tied together. I had to make sure Sophia and Noah knew they were both into a little pizzazz in the bedroom. Sorry for being on a brief writing hiatus I had a really busy two weeks. PLS pls send requests or ideas for anything else you'd like me to write, I want to work on some oneshots since I have a long weekend! Thank you to anyone who has read every chapter and liked it even a little, I had a lot of fun writing this! XOXO, Lila

[Zoey’s POV]

I had sauce simmering on the stove, filling the apartment with the comforting scent of garlic and herbs. I stirred it absentmindedly, even though it didn't really need to be stirred anymore. It was just something to keep me and my nervous energy busy.

Three days shouldn't have felt this long.

I smiled to myself. Before Noah, I would've laughed at anyone who said you could miss someone after such a short time. People traveled. They had jobs. Life happened.

But then Noah happened. His life was airports, studio sessions, hotel rooms, and cities that blurred together faster than the stamps in his passport. New York this week. Nashville next month. Overseas after that. I'd learned to celebrate every goodbye with confidence and every return with relief, never wanting him to feel guilty for chasing the dream he'd been building long before I entered the picture.

But still...

I missed the random chords drifting from the living room while making dinner or the way he'd stop halfway through making coffee because an idea for a lyric had struck him, leaving the cabinet doors open and his mug forgotten on the counter. Noah seemingly had endless melodies that lived permanently in the back of his mind.

The table had already been set with two plates, two wine glasses, and a pair of candles waiting to be lit. It looked almost too nice. Noah would notice. He always noticed the little things that slipped by everyone else.

My phone vibrated against the counter and I opened the message so quickly I almost laughed at myself.

NOAH:

Landed early. Surprise. Be at yours in 45.

I stared at the screen for a long moment before typing back.

ZOEY:

Dinner's almost ready. Drive safe.

Soon, Noah was walking in carrying too much luggage and apologizing for the noise before I even had the chance to say hello. His hair was messy from the flight and he look exhausted. Noah dumped his stuff by the front door and crossed the room to me and for one quiet moment before his stories from New York, before dinner grew cold on the table the distance disappeared in the space of a single embrace.

"You cooked?" he asked, genuinely surprised as he looked behind me at the messy kitchen.

I laughed lightly. "You sound disappointed."

Noah chuckled and tucked my head under his chin. "I should sound impressed."

I breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

It felt...easy. Normal. Until Noah’s phone rang.

He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled it out, glancing at the screen.

Someone from the label. Noah looked sheepishly at me before he put his finger up.

"Sorry. One second."

One second became ten minutes. Then fifteen.

I plated our food and he was still pacing the living room.

"...No, move the rehearsal to Thursday...I can't do Tuesday if they're adding another interview..."

I sat down at the table and waited, while I watched as our food cooled.

Noah stopped pacing and covered the phone. "I'm so sorry. Five more minutes."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

It wasn't.

Twenty-five minutes later, he finally hung up. He turned toward me with an exhausted smile. "Okay."

Noah looked at the table at the untouched dinner.

His smile fell. "...You waited."

I shrugged. "I figured we were eating together."

Noah looked sheepish as he crossed the room to the table. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

He sat down as I stood up from the table and took my plate to the kitchen. I started scraping the pasta from my plate into the trash.

"Hey, what’re you doing?" Noah called softly, pushing away from the table.

"Not hungry anymore," I mumbled, moving to rinse my plate.

I heard the confusion in Noah’s voice as he said, "You haven't eaten."

"I lost my appetite."

I started to scrub my plate, refusing to look at him.

"Talk to me."

"I'm fine."

"So you’ve said."

"I'm just tired."

"No."

I kept rinsing the plate.

"The call ran long."

"I know."

"I couldn't really-”

"I know."

"But-"

"I know."

I kept my tone short, trying not to let my frustration boil over on his first night back.

Until he quietly asked, "Why does this feel bigger than a phone call?"

I stopped scrubbing but let the water keep running as I really thought about what I wanted to say, before I whispered, "...Because you came home."

I watched as Noah frowned, so I continued. "I thought we'd have tonight."

I could hear the confusion from Noah when he said, "We do."

"No,” I said, turning the water off and setting the plate aside before drying my hands. "You got home, and for twenty five minutes I was...waiting for you to really show up." Noah started to say something, probably to apologize again, before I held up my hand to stop him."I'm not upset that you took the call."

Noah didn’t say anything.

"I'm upset because I realized how fast I disappeared."

But I watched as his expression softened, while I did my best not to meet his eyes. "You walked in and you hugged me. You said you missed me and then..."

I shrugged.

"...I wasn't important anymore."

I watchied him close his eyes briefly and flinch, like what I had said was physically painful.

I immediately regretted saying it. "See? Forget it."

"No."

"I shouldn't have-"

"No."

I shook my head, wringing my hands and groaned. "It was work. You're allowed to answer your phone."

Noah took a beat before he stepped closer to me. "I am."

"So this is my issue."

He stopped in front of me and gently grasped my hands in his. He didn’t try to interrupt or defend himself, he just existed in my space, standing in front of me.

"I think," he said carefully, "both things can be true." I looked at him. "It was work and it hurt." I briefly met his gaze before looking away. "You don't have to convince yourself it didn't."

Softly, I said, "I know you didn't mean to."

Noah shrugged. "I didn't."

I leaned my head on his chest and groaned. "I know."

He rubbed small circles on the back of my hand.

"But..." he admitted quietly, "I can also see how it looked." I slowly blinked. "You'd spent a few days waiting for me." He squeezed my fingers. "I came through the door, and instead of being with you..." Noah glanced toward the living room. "...I mentally walked right back out."

My eyes filled with tears before I could stop them. "I hate that this affects me so much."

He shook his head. "I don't."

"You don't?"

"I hate that it made you feel alone."

I whispered, "I almost didn't tell you."

"I know."

I didn't want to be difficult."

He stepped closer and his voice got low, “Talk to me. Don't hide from me."

I looked at him and felt my cheeks grow hot. "I'm scared every time I need something from you."

I watched Noah’s face soften completely. "Why, baby?"

His hands reached to hold my cheeks softly and he gently wiped some fallen tears.

"I keep thinking..." my voice cracked. "If I ask for too much, you'll remember it's easier to leave."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "Can I tell you what I heard?"

I nodded.

"I didn't hear you complaining about a phone call. I heard you telling me that when I got distracted, it touched the exact place where you’ve been hurt before." My tears spilled over. "And that's different."

I sobbed, "I don't want to punish you forever."

Noah shrugged. "I know."

"But sometimes I don't know what's the past and what's right now."

"Then we sort it out together."

I laughed weakly. "How?"

Noah was silent and I watched him chew his lip for a moment as he thought through it.

"Next time I walk through that door after a trip..." He gave me a small smile. "My phone stays off for one hour."

I frowned. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"What if it's important?"

"If the world's ending, my manager can knock."

I let out a reluctant laugh.

"And if I can't give you that hour," he continued, "I'll tell you before I answer the call. I won’t disappear in the middle of being with you."

I searched his face, looking to see if he was telling the truth but sincerity was all I saw. "You'd actually do that?"

Noah shrugged and gave me a small smile. "Of course."

My brow furrowed. "You don't think I'm asking for too much?"

He continued to rub my cheeks softly, even though the tears were gone now. "I think you're asking me to be intentional and I think that's reasonable."

I leaned into his hand before softly admitting, "I'm still learning how to tell you when something hurts."

"I know."

"I usually just...swallow it."

"I've noticed."

I gave him a tiny smile. "You have?"

"You get really quiet."

I shrugged, playing with the strings on his hoodie. "I do."

"You start cleaning."

"...I do."

"You insist you're fine."

I groaned and leaned against his chest, causing him to chuckle. "I hate that you know all my tells."

Noah smiled. "I love that I know them."

I pulled back and looked at him for a long moment before wrapping my arms around his waist, and he pulled me in closer.

"I'm right here," he murmured into my hair.

His words weren’t meant to erase what had happened, but to remind me I didn't have to fight through it on my own.

After a minute, I pulled back just enough to look up at him. "The food's probably cold."

I nodded, but didn't move.

He noticed. "What?"

I hesitated. "I..." The words got stuck in my throat, but he waited. "I don't know why this feels so...big."

"It doesn't have to make sense immediately."

I pouted. "It should."

"It doesn't."

I looked down at the floor.

"I keep expecting you to get frustrated."

"With what?"

I waved my hand between us, gesturing vaguely between us. "With this. Me needing reassurance."

He was quiet for a second. Then he asked, "Has anyone ever actually reassured you?"

I frowned. "What?"

He held my gaze. "When you were scared. When you started pulling away because something hurt...did anyone ever stay long enough to ask why?"

I opened my mouth but quickly closed it. "I..." The answer I was avoiding sat thick in the room. "No."

He nodded slowly. "I figured."

A tear slipped down my cheek and he brushed it away.

"So when something reminds you of what happened between us...your instinct isn't to tell me."

I finished his sentence, realizing, "It's to deal with it myself."

"Exactly."

I laughed weakly. "I've had a lot of practice."

"I know."

"I don't even realize I'm doing it half the time."

"I know."

I looked at him with watery eyes. "You keep saying that."

He shrugged. "Because I do."

My brow pulled tighter. "You don't seem surprised by any of this."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

He took a slow breath before letting it out carefully. "Because after everything I've learned about you..." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "...this makes sense." I slowly blinked at him. "I hurt you in a way that confirmed every fear you already had." My eyes immediately filled again. "You spent your whole life believing people leave." I watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. "And then I did."

I shook my head, "You came back."

"I know. But I still left." He didn't hide from it, soften it or try to explain it away. "I don't get to pretend that doesn't echo around our present sometimes."

I stared at him. "I hate that you're right.” Noah shrugged. "I hate that one phone call made me feel like I was back there. I hate that I can't just..." I snapped my fingers. "...be over it."

I watched Noah’s face soften even more. "I'm not asking you to be."

Silence settled around us before I whispered, "What if this keeps happening?"

"It probably will."

I frowned and he smiled gently.

"Not forever."

"But healing isn't a straight line."

"There'll be days something I do or say catches you off guard. There'll be moments where your brain remembers before your heart does." I carefully looked at him, nervous. "And when that happens... you talk to me."

I swallowed thickly.

"Don't decide what I'm thinking or tell yourself I'm tired of you. You can’t convince yourself I'm halfway out the door." Noah reached for my hands again and his thumbs brushed over my knuckles. "Come find me."

My lip trembled. "What if it's three times in one week?"

Noah shrugged. "Come find me."

"What if it's over something small?"

"Come find me."

"What if I can't explain why I'm upset?"

"Then tell me exactly that." His voice never rose or got sharp. He just stayed calm and steady. It made my heart pound. "You don't have to earn comfort by having the perfect explanation."

I closed my eyes, willing away the tears. "I don't know why that's so hard to believe."

"Because you've spent years believing love had conditions."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. "And you don't?"

"I think love means making room for the hard conversations."

I let out a quiet laugh.  "You're making this very difficult."

Noah smiled down at me. "For who?"

"For the part of me that's convinced you're going to leave."

He smiled sadly. "I imagine I am."

I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his chest. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders without another word. For a long time, neither of us spoke.

Then I mumbled into his shirt,"...I almost didn't tell you."

"I know."

"I was going to smile."

"I know."

"I was going to eat dinner and pretend I wasn't hurt."

He kissed the top of her head.

"And how would that have gone?"

I tipped my head back to look at him. "So...this is what we're doing now?"

"What?"

"When something hurts..." I searched for the right words. "...we don't let it grow teeth?"

He smiled. "I like that."

"You do?"

"It means we deal with it while it's still small."

I nodded slowly. "I think I can do that."

"You don't have to do it perfectly."

"I know."

"You just have to let me in."

My eyes met his, still a little hurt and uncertain. But with something new now, too. Trust, while not complete, not effortless, it was growing.

I reached up and cupped his face. "I'm trying."

He leaned into my hand.

"I see that."

I gave him a small, genuine smile.  "So are you."

He smiled back. "I am."

Then he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I'm right here."

Noah: I wrote a song today.

Zoey: Should I be worried?

Noah: Only if you're worried about being the reason I couldn't focus on anything else.

Zoey: You're flirting.

Noah: I'm practicing.

Zoey: For what?

Noah: The day you stop looking at me like I need supervision.

*

Zoey: You're very confident for someone who got repeatedly rejected

Noah: Actually, that's where the confidence comes from. I survived weeks of rejection and kept showing up.

*

Noah: What are you doing?

Zoey: Reading.

Noah: I knew it.

Zoey: Knew what?

Noah: That you had a hobby besides ignoring my texts.

*

Noah: I still can't believe you agreed to another date

Zoey: Don't make it weird.

Noah: I'm trying but every time you text me back I feel like I won a Grammy.

Zoey: You say nice things for a living. It's suspicious.

Noah: No, I write nice things for a living. The stuff I say to you is the part that scares me.

*

Noah: You know what's unfair?

Zoey: What now?

Noah: I spent months trying to convince you to give me a chance, and now you're making me like you even more

*

Zoey: How was rehearsal?

Noah: Terrible.

Zoey: That bad?

Noah: No. Nick just spent twenty minutes asking if I picked out my outfit for seeing you.

Zoey: Had you?

Noah: That's not the point. My friends are never letting me live this down.

*

Noah: I made the mistake of telling the guys you were texting me.

Zoey: And?

Noah: Now they're acting like I got engaged. Hope you’re ready for this.

*

Zoey: Your friends don't like me very much, do they?

Noah: No, they love you.

Zoey: Really?

Noah: You've been humbling me for months. They're having the time of their lives.

*

Noah: Jolly asked if I finally stopped writing sad songs.

Zoey: What did you say?

Noah: I told him we're not there yet.

Zoey: Good answer.

Noah: Thank you. I enjoy staying alive.

*

Noah: I got roasted at dinner tonight.

Zoey: What for?

Noah: You.

Zoey: I wasn't even there.

Noah: Exactly. Yet somehow you were still the main topic.

*

Zoey: Your guitarist seems scary.

Noah: He's actually the nicest one.

Zoey: Really?

Noah: He just looked me dead in the eye today and said, "Don't screw it up again."

*

Noah: My friends have started calling you "hotel girl."

Zoey: Hotel girl?

Noah: "Did hotel girl text?" "How's it going with hotel girl?" "Are you seeing hotel girl this weekend?"

Zoey: That's ridiculous.

Noah: That's what I said.

Zoey: And?

Noah: They reminded me I've talked about you every day for months.

*

Noah: Folio says I can’t stop smiling these days.

Zoey: Why are you smiling?

Noah: Because I'm texting you.

Zoey: Your friends tease you for that too, don't they?

Noah: Baby, my friends tease me for breathing in your general direction.

*

Noah: I told the guys you agreed to another dinner.

Zoey: And what did they say?

Noah: "Don't be weird."

Zoey: Can you do that?

Noah: No. That's why they were concerned. You clearly haven't seen my search history from the last few months. 'How long should a man stare at his phone before she replies?

[Noah’s POV]

Three heads snapped up in my direction as I walked into the studio for the first time this week and I immediately knew I was screwed. I shoved my phone into my pocket and ignored them all as I walked to the mixing board.

Folio grinned. "There he is."

"Don't," I said immediately.

"She’s texting you, isn’t she?" Ruffilo asked.

"Look at the smile on his face," Folio said. "She’s definitely textin him."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "I hate all of you."

"She texted him," Folio announced to the room.

Chaos ensued from the three goons.

"Oh, my God," Ruffilo said.

"Finally," Jolly muttered.

Folio cheered, "Nature is healing!"

I dropped into the chair behind the sound board with with more force than necessary.

"Can we just get started?" I begged.

"No."

"Nope."

"Absolutely not."

Folio spun his drumstick between his fingers. "How's your girl?"

I groaned, leaning my head back. "She's not my girl."

Jolly quirked his brow. "Interesting. That's not what you were calling her the rest of tour."

"That was back when she wasn't speaking to me."

"Fair point."

Ruffilo leaned forward conspiratorially. "Have you asked her out yet?"

"I’ve had coffee with her."

The room went silent and then they all exploded.

"You've had coffee."

"And one dinner."

"How many coffees?"

I hesitated and the guys immediately started yelling over each other.

"HOW MANY COFFEES?"

"OH MY GOD."

"COUNT THEM."

"It's been a few."

"A few?" Nick repeated. "A few is three. You've got the face of a man who's been on at least seven coffee dates."

"Eight," I muttered.

Chaos ensued and I could hardly keep up.

"Eight?" Ruffilo asked.

"Eight coffees!?"

"Dude, you're dating," Nick said.

"We are not dating," I protested.

The guys all just stared at me, before Ruffilo said, "You spent six months begging this woman for a second chance."

I narrowed my eyes, fidgeting with the knobs in front of me. "I did not beg."

"You absolutely begged."

I defended myself, "I was persistent."

"You wrote songs."

I shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

"You drove two hours to an animal shelter because she posted about it."

I narrowed my eyes. "That was a coincidence."

Everyone laughed at me and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

"Most believable thing you've ever said."

I rubbed my hand across the back of my neck, uncomfortable with their attention. "Can we move on?"

Nick pointed a drumstick at me. "No. When are we meeting her?"

I groaned.

"There it is."

Jolly murmured, "We knew it was coming."

"You people are unbelievable."

"We've earned this," Jolly said with a shrug.

My brow furrowed and I asked, "Earned what?"

"Meeting the woman who turned you into a functioning human being."

They all nodded, like this was something of heavy discussion in the past.

Ruffilo relaxed in his seat, spreading his arms along the back of the couch, as he said, "Seriously. Before her, your personality was basically black coffee and bad decisions."

Nick cackled. "Now look at you."

Ruffilo said, "You smile."

"You answer texts," Jolly pointed out.

"You even use emojis now," Nick agreed.

The guys all over exaggeratedly shuddered like they had the heebie jeebies.

"The emojis were hard to witness."

“I need new friends,” I muttered."You're not meeting her."

Ruffilo gasped. "Why not?"

"Because she's already nervous enough."

That shut them up for exactly two seconds before Jolly's expression softened.

"She's nervous?"

I shrugged. "Obviously."

The guys exchanged glances and their teasing disappeared almost instantly because beneath all the harassment, they weren't actually dickheads.

"Well," Nick said, "tell her we're normal."

I barked out a laugh. "No chance."

Nick shrugged. "Fair."

Ruffilo crossed his arms. "Look, we're not saying drag her to the studio tomorrow."

"Good."

"We're saying if this thing is actually going somewhere, eventually she's got to meet us."

Jolly and Nick nodded.

"And we should probably meet her before she realizes what a disaster you are and leaves your ass."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Nick pointed a drumstick at me. "Besides, we need to make sure she's real."

I laughed, "She's real."

"We've never seen her."

"You've seen pictures."

"Those might be AI," Ruffilo argued.

I stared at them.

"Bring her to dinner," Nick pushed.

"No."

"Bring her to the bar,” Ruffilo offered.

I groaned. "No."

"Bring her to a barbecue."

"No."

"Bring her anywhere."

"No."

Nick smirked the kind of smirk that meant trouble.

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

He shrugged. "We'll ask her ourselves."

I snapped my gaze to his and narrowed my eyes. "You don't even have her number."

"No," he agreed. "But you do."

The room erupted into laughter again and I pointed menacingly at them. "If any of you scare her off, I'll replace every single one of you."

Nick shrugged. "You can't."

"Watch me."

"You cried during a dog food commercial last week."

My jaw dropped, faux betrayal crossing my face. “You promised never to mention that."

Nick shrugged. "Invite her to dinner and we'll consider it."

[Noah’s POV]

I’d been at Zoey’s for about 2 hours now, a random horror film playing for the last forty five minutes that I hadn’t been paying attention to at all. She was stretched across one end of the couch, her feet tucked beneath her while I sat on the opposite side, one arm thrown over the back cushion, as I lazily scrolled through my phone.

"You've checked your phone six times in three minutes."

My eyes flicked up to meet hers."No, I haven't."

Zoey laughed softly at me, arguing, "You absolutely have."

"Nope," I said with a pop.

"You're doing it right now."

I immediately locked the screen and she smiled at me.

"What's wrong?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

She pointed at me. "Liar."

I groaned, throwing my head back. "Why do you always know?"

"Because you're bad at hiding things."

"I'm actually very good at hiding things."

She stared at me and the silence stretched.

I sighed. "Okay, that's fair."

She grinned victoriously at me. "There it is."

I tossed my phone onto the couch next to me, watching it bounce once against the cushion and looked at her for a minute, trying to decide the best approach, knowing she was easily spooked. I watched her suspicion grow.

She groaned. "Oh no."

"What?"

Zoey pointed at me. "That face."

"What face?"

"That’s the face you make when you're about to ask me something."

my eyebrows lifted in confusion. “I have a face?"

"You absolutely have a face."

"I don't," I protested.

"You do."

I laughed softly, loving the way her nose did that little scrunchy thing and then I looked down, suddenly oddly nervous.

That was new, as a man who could stand in front of thousands of people without blinking. Somehow asking Zoey things always seemed to make me extra nervous.

"Okay," she said carefully. "What is it?"

I tapped my fingers against the back of the couch, before going for it and blurted, "The guys want to meet you."

She blinked slowly. "The band?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

I immediately started talking, I couldn't stop myself. "There's no pressure."

"I know."

"And you don't have to."

"Okay."

"And if you're not comfortable-"

Zoey laughed. "Hey." I paused. "You look terrified."

The words whooshed out of me, as I admitted, "I’m terrified."

I watched Zoey’s head snap back, caught off guard. "What?"

I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “They've been asking about you for months."

Zoey sat up straighter. "Months?"

I groaned. "Don't make it a thing."

"How long have they been asking?"

I avoided looking at her, my eyes catching anything but her gaze.

"Since they found out I found you at the cafe."

I watched Zoey’s jaw actually drop.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Zoey started laughing and I felt my face get redder, which only made her laugh harder.

"Oh my God."

I groaned. "They're annoying."

"You've known them for years."

"I know exactly how annoying they are."

Zoey could barely beathe, she was laughing so hard. "They've been asking since then?"

I leaned forward, my body relaxing. "Relentlessly."

I watched as a smile settled across her face as she realized it meant I had been talking about her consistently. Enough that my best friends had become invested and that they wanted to meet her.

I could see her starting to spin out over the thought. "Don't read into that."

"Into what?"

"The fact that they know who you are."

She folded her arms across her chest. "How much do they know?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not answering that."

"How much?"

I shrugged. "A normal amount."

"That sounds like a lie."

"It is a lie."

She laughed again and I pointed at her. "See? This is why I didn't want to ask."

"Why?"

"Because now you're enjoying this."

"I am."

"Traitor," I said with a smile, showing her it was a joke.

Neither of us looked away, but silence settled into the room and the movie played across the screen, forgotten.

My expression shifted, not longer teasing or nervous, just pure honesty.

"I'd like you to meet them," I said softly.

This felt different, bigger than what we had done up until now. Not exactly a milestone, but sort of close to one. It was about meeting the people who mattered most to me, the people who'd been beside there long before I’d met her.

Zoey paused, a thoughtful look on her face as she examined me. "They're important to you."

I shrugged. "Yeah."

"And they already like me?"

I grinned. "Oh, they're obsessed with you."

She groaned. "That's not reassuring."

I laughed. "It should be a little reassuring."

"It's not."

"It is."

She threw a pillow at me and I caught it easily while laughing.

After a moment, I quietly asked, "So?"

She pretended to think about it.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Oh, come on."

She tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm."

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"A little." She held her finger and thumb less than half an inch apart.

I nudged her foot with mine, prodding, "So?"

Zoey smiled. "Okay."

The answer came so fast I was blinking to try to register that she had agreed.

"Okay?"

She shrugged. "I'll meet them."

For a second I just stared at her before relief settled into my body. I watched her smile brighten.

"You were worried I'd say no."

I blushed harder.

"No, I wasn't."

Zoey giggled. "You were."

"No."

"You absolutely were."

I opened my mouth, closed it, and then I sighed, resigned.

"A little."

She laughed.

"A little?"

"A lot."

Something sweet settled into the room, as the reality of what this meant to me settled between us. I know she knew what it was really saying.

Not that I was worried about dinner, I was just worried because this mattered to me more than I thought it would. Despite everything we’d built over the past few months, part of me still wasn't completely sure she was staying.

Zoey reached across the couch and squeezed my hand. "I'm not going to run away from your friends."

My gaze dropped to our hands, then back to her. A soft, small smile graced my lips. This was real.

"Good," I said softly, pulling her closer to me.

She raised an eyebrow, pushing softly against my chest. "Unless they're as annoying as you."

I grinned. "Oh, they're way worse."

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Great."

"You're going to love them."

"That's what I'm afraid of,” she murmured.

I leaned down and softly brushed my lips over hers, and she relaxed into my chest.

[Zoey’s POV]

"I can still leave."

Noah glanced over from the driver's seat.

"No, you can't."

I shrugged. "I absolutely can."

"You made it all the way here."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It means everything."

I stared out the windshield at the cute little two story house not far of a drive from the beach. It wasn’t the house that was intimidating to me, but the people inside it were. At least they felt intimidating.

For months I'd been hearing stories about these men who had apparently spent months watching this idiot pine after me, which meant they knew things. Somehow that made me more nervous than anything.

On my left, Noah reached his hand over and nudged my knee. "They're excited to meet you."

I sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

He laughed. "They're idiots."

"Those are your best friends."

Noah shrugged. "Exactly."

I narrowed my eyes accusingly. "That wasn't reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

I groaned and he grinned. Annoyingly, that grin did make me feel a little better. A few minutes later, Noah got out of the car and met me at my door, carefully opening it before reaching for my hand. We walked slowly to the door, my nerves eating away at me.

Before I knew it, Noah was pushing open the door and ushering me into the living room, as three heads snapped in my direction, as they all immediately froze.

"Oh my God," one of them whispered.

"No way."

"She's real," the other whispered back.

I blinked.

Noah muttered, "I hate them."

Nick, I realized by the drumstick in his hand, pointed. "She's real."

"I'm standing right here," I said.

His eyes widened. "She talks too."

A guy with medium length hair gasped dramatically. "This is huge for us."

Noah tossed his head back and closed his eyes, groaning. “I’m leaving."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

Medium length hair guy stepped up and held out his hand. "I'm Nick Ruffilo or Ruffilo. That’s Nick." He pointed. “That’s Jolly.”

I shook his hand. "I'm-"

"We know."

I paused, quirking a brow. "...You know?"

All three men looked at me like I'd asked whether the sky was blue.

The drummer, Nick, laughed. "We've known your name for months."

Jolly, who hadn’t said much yet, nodded.

"Months," I repeated softly, looking at Noah who looked away, almost embarrassed.

Nick looked at his friend, grinning. "An unhealthy amount of months."

Noah groaned and I let a wide grin spread across my face.

Nick groaned. "Oh no."

"What?" I asked with a laugh.

Nick said, "You think we're kidding."

"We're not kidding,” Ruffilo said solemnly before he pointed at Noah. "This man has been absolutely unbearable."

Noah groaned. "Guys."

"No."

"Please stop,” he begged.

"No."

Jolly crossed his arms, stubbornly. "You have any idea how many sad songs we had to sit through?"

I looked at Noah and watched his eyes widen. "Don't listen to them."

"Six." The bassist held up six fingers.

"Six."

"That is not true," Noah protested.

"Five and a half."

I tilted my head, confused. "How do you have half a sad song?"

Ruffilo shrugged. "He gave up halfway through because you finally agreed to a date."

The room exploded into laughter and I had to laugh, even though Noah’s face turned bright red.

I giggled. "Oh, this is fantastic."

Noah pointed at me accusingly. "You're supposed to be on my side."

I furrowed my brow and bit my lip. "Why?"

"Because I brought you here."

Nick pointed at me, like it was a victory. "Excellent question."

I smiled sweetly before I shrugged. "Honestly, I'm just excited to hear all the stories."

The room went dead silent and the guys collectively lost their minds. Nick dropped into a chair, Ruffilo doubled over laughing and Jolly slapped his thigh with a loud laugh.

"Oh, she's one of us," Nick cackled.

"No,” Noah said shortly.

Ruffilo grinned. "She absolutely is."

Noah stared at me with a look of betrayal. "You don't even know them."

I shrugged. "They seem trustworthy."

All three men shouted, "THANK YOU."

Noah looked like he was reconsidering every decision he'd ever made. Ruffilo wiped tears from his eyes.

"You know what my favorite story is?"

"No."

"Remember when you swore you were over her?"

Noah immediately pointed. "Nope."

"Then you accidentally liked a six month old picture."

The room erupted into hysterical laughter again and I whipped around. "You did what?"

Noah wouldn’t look at me. "It was an accident."

Nick cackled. "It was not."

Noah grunted. "It absolutely was."

Jolly nodded, a serious expression taking over his face. "He called me in a panic."

I gasped. "You called someone?"

Nick grinned. "He called everyone."

"I needed advice." Noah shrugged, suddenly shy.

"You needed therapy."

Laughter, real laughter, bubbled up. The kind that I couldn't stop from pouring out of me and suddenly all my nerves about walking into this house, had disappeared. These guys weren’t scary. They were just the people who knew him the best. The people who loved him enough to give him hell and apparently, now that I'd walked through the door, they were more than happy to let me join in.

Across the room, Noah caught my eye. Despite all the complaining and the clear embarrassment written all over his face, he was smiling at me with a soft, helpless smile. The kind that said he couldn't quite believe I was here with him, getting along with his friends.

I felt a sense of belonging. I smiled back carefully, before I turned to Nick and leaned in.

"So tell me more about the sad songs."