Noah winds up his window once I'm in the car and presses a button that immediately makes my seat begin to warm up. I melt into it as we pull into the street.
"Good day?" I ask him.
"Are we going to have this same conversation every evening?" he muses. I scoff at him; I was merely being polite. "It was decent. I got to work on a Range Rover that only came out last year. How was your day?"
"Better now that I'm here," I sigh, sinking further into my seat. He goes quiet, and I elaborate: "in the heated seats. Your car. It's nice."
"Long day?" he observes. I watch his fingers twist around the gear-stick and tighten when he pulls the car into third gear.
"A lot of meetings?" I grumble.
"And a bit of eyeliner to go with them?" he teases.
I blush, having forgotten about that briefly. I haven't looked at myself yet, but thankfully, I trust that Isobel wouldn't make me look like a clown.
"We'll probably skip dinner tonight. Do you want me to swing through the drive-thru?" he asks.
"Please," I breathe. I see him nod in my peripheral, and he swings around the roundabout once more before taking a different exit. "Thanks for driving me around. I can give you some money for petrol if you want."
His lips purse.
"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I don't mind driving you around?" he quizzes.
"You see cars all day. I just thought you might get a bit sick of them." I say as I shrug.
He grins and shakes his head. There's that dimple again, deep set into his cheek.
I recognise the drive-thru from Sunday morning, but this time as we pull around to it, two bright orange cones stop us in our tracks.
It's closed.
Noah sighs and drives past them to the car park.
Watching him reverse into a parking space should not be as sexy as I find it, but the skill of it all and the lip that's sucked into his mouth when he pulls the handbrake up, makes my hands clench.
"Guess we'll have to go in." he adds, smiling over at me.
"We get out of the car and start walking towards the entrance to the McDonalds.
"At least I'm not getting crumbs in your car." I nudge him. We walk to the doors side by side.
"You've already got your hair all over it anyway." he laughs. I roll my eyes at him. "I'm serious! I can't go five minutes without pulling ginger hair out of the vents or some shit."
I laugh. His eyes follow my hands as they run through my hair, pulling it over my shoulders to frame my face.
He holds the door open for me, and we use a quick-pay machine to order our food. I pay before Noah can, grumbling at him about petrol and driving and letting me use his hoodie, so he doesn't have room to argue with me.
We take the food back out to his car and I sink back into the seat - still warm from the drive.
I don't even wait for him before diving into my fries, putting three into my mouth at once.
"You put food away like a dude." he chuckles.
"Don't be so sexist," I laugh around the mouthful. I hand him his burger, and try not to look at the way his legs are spread out wide in the small space under the steering wheel. "So what does game night entail?"
"It's a little lame," he warns me. " We get drunk and argue about monopoly, for the most part. I hope you're ready for a hangover tomorrow."
"I'm decent at monopoly," I boast.
"Decent isn't good enough if you're playing against me." he winks. I almost swoon.
He reaches his hand out and I blink at it briefly before reaching into the bag of food and pulling out his fries.
He takes them wordlessly.
"You're all talk, Noah." I tease.
He turns in his seat, outwardly looking me up and down until I'm squirming in the seat.
"I'll go easy on you," he decides, stating it quietly, as if it's a secret. "Since you're Cam's sister and all."
Right.
There's that.
We talk casually about work and Cam's friends while we finish our food. Noah shoves all of the rubbish in the back seat before driving us back home using a shortcut.
I have to rush to get ready while he picks Cam up from work, and I only manage to get on a video call with Isobel as I'm straightening my hair.
She answers the call, smiling wide, teeth sparkly white. Her hair is up into curlers and there's a clay face mask covering her pale skin.
"Your make-up looks great. It's not too - I think the eyeliner looks fit." she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
"You would, you goth bitch," I grin through the phone at her.
"Oh ha-ha," she drawls. "I'm so jealous of your freckles."
We go through some of my outfits in a rush after my hair, settling on a pair of mom style jeans and a light blue milkmaid top, that clings to my figure. I had to convince her away from a bodycon dress that I wore when I was eighteen. She calls me boring.
I know when Cam and his friends arrive because there's a sudden burst of noise downstairs, and I quickly brush through my hair once more in the mirror.
"I'd fuck you, Kenz. stop panicking." she chirps.
Isobel is lying on her bed now, painting her nails pink so that they match the strip in her hair. Her feet wave behind her, clad in neon pink socks. The face mask has dried a light grey colour, completely washing her out on camera.
"Kenzie?" Cam calls up the stairs.
"Down in a minute!" i call back in return.
"You know," Isobel sings. "You didn't tell me that your brother's housemate looks like a bloody model. Like, damn hot."
My cheeks burn under the makeup I'm wearing.
"I'm going now," I smile at her.
I hang up before she can try to embarrass me or pry for information out of me further. I shove my make-up and hair products in the cabinet under the sink so that they aren't in the way.
There is hair on the bathroom floor that I attempt to sweep into a corner with my foot, but it's useless. There's too much of it. The boys will just have to cope with it.
The living room is full when I get downstairs and I feel exposed as I walk through the door to greet everyone.
"My sister, Kenzie," Cam introduces, and I get everyone's names in turn.
Cam pats the sofa where there's a small space left between him and Noah. i try not to let my face burn as my calves brush Noah's knees when I walk around him and drop down next to him.
Our sides press together.
"You didn't have to dress up," Cam whispers in my ear. "It's casual."
It is casual. I casually want your housemate to eye-fuck me all night, thank you very much.
Noah's arm snakes from where it's squished against my side and travels around the back of the sofa. I swear I feel one of his fingers briefly brush against my hair.
One of the two women in the room, both sitting in front of the TV, smiles at me and holds out a pink can.
The swirly writing along the side tells me that it's pre-mixed gin and tonic.
"Thanks," I say, reaching out to grab it. "It's Emily, right?"
"Yup," she smiles. She's pretty, with her deep auburn locks and puffy lips. Hazel eyes sparkling with the buzz of the alcohol. Her glasses fall down her nose and she pushes them back up with one finger. "Cam speaks very highly of you."
I feel him stiffen slightly from his seat next to me, and I nudge his arm.
"You do?" I tease.
"He didn't mention how pretty you are."
The only guy in the room that i haven't met speaks up.
He's sitting on a beanbag I didn't even know the boys owned, his legs spread wide. He winks when I look over at him, eyes dropping to where my cleavage shows.
"Shut the fuck up, dude." I'm surprised, because it's not Cam's voice that says it, but Noah's. "And put your fucking eyes away before Cam rips them out."
His hand touches my thigh, and my head shoots up to look at him. He recoils immediately.
The guy who spoke, Fin, is already on the defense, muttering about compliments and toxic masculinity. His tawny skin flushed with embarrassment.
I know the thigh touch was meant to be a comfort after being ogled, but my skin still burns under my jeans from his touch.
I open my can and let them argue it out.
"We should play something new to get to know you better, Kenzie," the other girl, Mia, says grinning. She's also sipping on a can of gin and tonic. She flips long platinum hair over her shoulder, sky-blue eyes locked on mine. "Never have I ever -"
"No," Cam commands instantly.
"Cameron, you're such a prude." Mia laughs.
"This is my sister," he deadpans. "I don't want to know."
"Tough." Mia smiles at him.
There's a spark in Cam's eye, and I know immediately that he has a soft spot for her. Emily and I share a look which makes me feel more at ease.
Noah's thigh is still pressed tight against mine.
He looks too different to be friends with these people. Full of tattoos and double their width in muscle. Brooding in comparison to their light and easy smiles. Now that I'm so close to him, I can see a black inked snake crawling behind his ear.
These people look like accountants.
Accountants who have adopted Cam's best friend as one of their own, evidently, because he laughs, occasionally, and drinks with them, and even though he doesn't say much, his eyes are bright.
"Right, okay." Mia puts her drink on the table. "Never have I ever . . . fallen asleep on the bus."
"That felt personal." Fin groans after he has taken a drink.
The statements get progressively worse and we all get progressively more drunk.
Eventually, my second turn rolls around.
During my first, I'd been tame for Cam's sake, playing it safe by playfully making him have to drink.
This time, there's a fog in my brain and I've got to know.
"Never have I ever kissed anyone in this room." I grin.
"Ouch," Noah hisses, but he doesn't drink. Mia, Fin and Cam do. "Double ouch."
Noah stretches out one of his legs and pulls his arm from around the sofa, opening another drink that he gets from the table.
"Never have I ever . . ." he contemplates. "Wanted to kiss someone in this room."
Well fuck me.
"That's harsh man," Fin says, but he leans back and drinks again. One by one, each person in the room drinks.
Noah doesn't. Neither do I.
As Fin begins to think aloud for his turn, Noah turns to look at me, promptly taking a sip of his drink and shrugging.
I do the same.
I'm not sure if it's part of the game or not. I try to push it to the back of my mind as we continue playing.
Cam finds out more about me than he needed to, and I feel the same way as the game fizzles out. Everyone is talking easier, drinks are flowing faster and seem to be never-ending.
I lean forward to checkmate Emily in our game of chess. She grins and tells me that this will happen again next week at her house and she'd love it if I could join them.
It feels easy as the night goes on. Like they're my friends as well as Cam's.
Emily and Mia even take me to the bathroom with them when they go, "so the boys can talk about us," Mia winks.
We take turns peeing. It's like I'm at university all over again.
When we stumble back downstairs, the boys are all sitting by the front door getting some fresh air, giggling quietly about something.
Noah is sat on the step and Cam is standing with his back against the wall, next to the door. Fin is laying on the front patch of grass.
I stumble out between Cam and Noah, tripping over my own feet.
Noah reaches up and grabs the side of my body to steady me. His hands splay across my thighs, his fingers pressing into the front of my legs. I hear my own stilted breath and wonder if he does too.
"Be careful," he warns, as he lets go of me. He gives me a pointed look and shoves his hands into his pockets.
I lean against the wall next to Cam and look up at the stars.
My head is foggy but I wish the night would never end.
Shortly after, when everyone has piled into a taxi and gone home, Cam collapses at my feet on the sofa.
He rubs my ankle and then he taps my foot twice.
"Don't get sentimental on me," I warn.
Noah's snort can be heard from the kitchen.
"I should've invited you over here more," Cam says, smiling softly at me. I hit him with one of my cushions, laughing at him. "My friends really like you. I missed hanging out with you."
"Go to bed bro." I chuckle.
"I love having you here, Kenzie," he slurs.
"You're a twat." I say, but I'm grinning, and suddenly I don't have so many complaints about being here either. It's nice to reconnect with him.
To feel like brother and sister again after so many years of only contacting each other through mum because we're too busy with our own lives to text once in a while.
He gives my ankle another pat and Noah drags him up the stairs.
——————————————————————————————————
The boys are shushing each other in the kitchen early the next morning and my head throbs as soon as I feel consciousness take over my body.
I groan, the two of them suddenly falling silent.
"You're a soppy drunk by the way." I hear Noah whisper. There's a scuffle and a breathy laugh. "I thought you were always just a horny little shit, but apparently you're a bit soft for your sister, aren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up man," Cam laughs. "She's a good person."
I stick my head up and glare at them both, but they have their backs to me. Noah looks broad in his t-shirt, stretched across his shoulders as if it's a size too small.
He's double the size of Cam, and he towers over him despite Cam being five foot eleven. Noah must be at least six four.
I briefly wonder how they even became friends when they met at that uni bar. They're yin and yang, and right now they're still shushing and pushing each other around as if they're school children.
"Ladies," I croak. I clear my throat with a cough as they both turn to me. "Do you always drink that much on a Tuesday? I feel like shit."
"You look like shit." Cam replies.
I flip him off and reach over to the table for my phone.
More than enough time to shower and get ready; even a little extra time to complain about my head-splitting hangover in the process.
"Do you mind if we leave a little earlier today?" I ask Noah. He smiles at me; I already know he's going to say yes. "Wednesday is my day to get the coffee."
"You don't have a coffee machine at work?" He asks.
"We do, but it's watery and tastes gritty. Five of us take turns buying the rounds." I tell him.
"That is the most corporate thing I have ever heard, Kenzie," Cam chimes in. I wish there was more stuff around me that I could throw at his head.
Instead of looking for something that could do a bit of damage, like the TV remote, I instead will myself to get up and shower. The room smells of alcohol and there are still empty cans everywhere I look - part of me hopes that one of them will clean up by the time I'm finished at work.
The more realistic part knows I'll be the one to sort it later.
Cam moans that I take too long in the shower, and then complains that my hair has blocked the drain.
Noah is still in his pj bottoms and that muscle tee when I get back down stairs.
"No work?" I ask, eyeing his figure.
"Wednesday is my convenient day off. Best hangover cure." He grins.
I scowl at my sudden jealousy of him which only makes him smile into a spoonful of yogurt.
"I'm still your taxi though, don't worry," he states.
"You like it. Apparently," I reply.
"I'd say I only like it for girls that are pretty," he deadpans. I choke on the water I'd started sipping. He shrugs and puts another mouthful of yogurt in his mouth before adding, "but Cam wouldn't like to hear that, so…"
"It's a predictable line anyway, Romano." I tease.
"Alright, Kepner," he scoffs. "Hurry up and get those stupid heels on, or we'll be late."
"They happen to look very classy in my fancy office." I smile up at him whilst slipping said heels on.
"You're all things classy, aren't you?" he says, eyes filled with mischief.
"I'm classier than you." I say, tilting my head to the side, feeding the fire.
Cam returns before Noah can argue, complaining about banking and numbers and customer service.
He passes me two painkillers before we all leave to begin the daily commute.
I don't manage to call shotgun this morning, so I'm stuck in the back watching Cam enjoy my heated seats and blasting the hot air coming out the vents.
Noah catches my pout in the mirror, silently laughing at my loss as he reverses out onto the street.
He looks good for a guy with a hangover. Too good. It makes my knotty hair and puffy skin look like an embarrassment.
His stubble has grown slightly longer over the past couple of days, beginning to give him that five o'clock shadow that male celebrities would likely sell their soul for. His hair is curly, unruly and unkempt but continues to frame his sculpted face beautifully.
If I still looked that good after a night of heavy drinking, I'd probably already have a boyfriend by now, and I wouldn't be pining about some boy who offers to drive me around.
He taps the front seat once we've dropped Cam off outside the bank.
I accept the invitation gladly, and am grateful when he turns the hot air to the max once I've put on my seatbelt.
The silence is comfortable this time. My headache welcomes the quiet with open arms.
When we reach my office, I blindly get out of the car and begin walking towards the coffee shop down the street.
"Where the fuck are you going?" he asks, leaning across the gear box to talk through the open passenger window. His voice is rough, calloused, unusually dry. It sends a shiver down my spine.
I turn towards him, where he is trailing me slowly. Cars are beginning to line up behind him, but his eyes stay trained on me.
It shouldn't be hot. The way his stare doesn't leave me, but I find myself gulping under the intensity of it.
"Coffee run," I remind him. "It's down the road."
"Then get back in the car, you muppet," he chuckles. His eyes don't leave me.
"It's just down the -"
The person behind honks their horn. My head throbs. I refrain from shouting profanities at the old woman who probably doesn't have any place to be other than Aldi, doing her weekly shop on a Wednesday morning.
I get back into the car and he drives slowly, as if he enjoys pissing the working people off behind us.
It takes us less than a minute to reach the coffee shop, Noah managing to snag a parking spot in front of the shop next to the entrance. As if the stars align for him, and only him.
"I could do with a coffee, or three," he says as he turns off the ignition, pulling the handbrake up slowly. I watch his arm as he does. "Come on."
We walk into the shop and I groan, "Uh - I'm never drinking on a Tuesday again."
When we're stood in line, he leans down so his mouth is near my ear, and plainly states: "We'll take it easy at Emily's house, yeah?"
I shiver at his breath on my neck. It's possibly the hottest thing I've ever felt whilst hungover.
He stands tall once he's said it, placing his hand at the small of my back to motion me forward when the line moves. I let him push me gently, glad for all the help I can get.
"This is too busy of a work-week for me to feel this crappy." I moan.
"Christmas preparation in November seems extreme," he murmurs. The man behind us is on a phone call and he doesn't sound too pleased at whatever he's hearing. I turn to look at him, but Noah's touch on my back gently presses me forward again. I rattle off my order to the smiling barista like clockwork.
"Your poison?" I ask Noah.
"A vanilla latte." He says.
I nod my head at the coincidence and add it to my order. It takes a while for all of the drinks to be ready, as we stand with each other looking like zombies. Him, one that could probably star in some dystopian zombie apocalypse film. I'd be one of the extras that dies too quickly.
He helps me carry the drinks, and then drives me back down the road with them, despite it being more trouble to turn the car around than to walk for three minutes.
Once I'm in the lift, I let my head droop again, wishing I'd called in sick and cuddled up on the sofa watching crappy 90's rom-coms all day.
Maybe against Noah's side, if he'd allow it . . .
I do the coffee round. The team seems too wrapped up in our busy schedule to notice how hungover I am, which I'm incredibly grateful for.
Except Isobel, who allows herself five minutes to grill me before she has to get on with the campaign.
I sip the vanilla latte as I open up my emails and begin doing my daily responses.
Hopefully today, the work will be mindless enough that the day passes by me.
====================================================================
Noah messages me at five on the dot, at which time it seems the entire office walks out in drones of exhaustion. Isobel waves me away from her desk when I try to say goodbye, a list of something or other on her screen and a collection of numbers scribbled on a notepad in front of her.
"Make sure you clock your overtime before you leave," I gently remind her, already walking away from her desk.
"Thanks Kenz. See you tomorrow. Tell Noah I said Uhhh!" she smirks at me. The people that remain in the office turn to look at her exaggerated faux moan and my cheeks burn red as I walk past them all.
Noah looks more put together this evening. I'm jealous that he's probably had time to wash his hair and watch crappy tv.
He gives me that familiar killer smile as I walk through the glass door.
"The heat is on," he informs me.
I practically moan as I sink into the heated leather.
"Your car turns me on," I reply.
He leans over me and pulls the seatbelt sound my body, but says nothing. I keep my eyes closed and let the warm air blow over my face and through my hair.
"Good day?"
"Hungover day," I groan, running my hands over my thighs.
His eyes track my movement.
"I actually managed to drag myself to the gym today," he states.
"I'm very sad I missed that," I admit.
Watching him workout, that is. Not working out myself.
His laughter is infectious which means I can't help but smile to myself.
"I haven't seen Squish since I met him." my eyes snap open, my head rolling towards him. He glances at me, grinning closed-mouthed with fire behind his eyes, and then looks back at the road as if he didn't just light up my stomach like fireworks. "You're surely not hiding him from me now?"
"Shut up, Noah." I giggle.
"Come on. I think it's sweet," he glances my way again. "I remember when I was a rebel child too, you know."
I eye him. The tattoos. The messy hair. The killer grin that melts my anger. "I don't doubt that for a second."
"Now that's presumptuous. At least haggle with me a little." he laughs. I close my eyes again. "It's cute you wanted something so bad that you stole it. Ruined that kids whole day, I'm sure."
"I don't even remember it. Cam does. He could be making the whole thing up, for all I know. . . Maybe he's the one who stole it." I laugh, covering my face with my hands.
"I highly doubt that," he jokes, his tone slightly higher for emphasis.
He pulls into the driveway and switches the car off, and then his headlights. He turns his entire body to look at me.
My breath catches in my throat.
He sighs, "I think I should be allowed to see Squish."
It's not what I expected, so it brings a loud, ugly laugh out of my mouth that makes him laugh too. I shake my head, reaching for the door handle.
With a faster reaction time than I can comprehend, he locks the car.
"You're being creepy," I say.
"You're withholding the sheep," he replies instantly.
I sigh, pretending I'm bothered by the big show he's putting on and that it's ruining my day, when really I'm just glad to be out of the office and in the comfort of his BMW.
Instead of unlocking the door at the source, I lean in towards him; I put on the most serious face I can muster and I gesture with a finger for him to lean in closer too.
He leans in over the console, staring into my eyes.
I wait a second, two, three.
"You may have Squish for one night," I whisper.
His face is so close that I could move a mere centimeter and rub my nose against his, but the moment doesn't feel romantic, and he's grinning again.
"Deal," he whispers back. "Tonight. The sheep and I will cook dinner."
I lean away from him and unlock the door with the tab on the middle console, rolling my eyes as I step out of the car and towards the front door.
He doesn't follow me until it's unlocked, and even then, he rushes past me and upstairs into the bathroom once I'm through the door.
I find Squish tucked away in one of my bags and leave him on the kitchen counter.