17 | the club

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An obnoxious snore was coming from right next to my ear. It was like being woken up with a megaphone.

I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, calming my racing heart as I did so. I hated waking up startled. My eyes quickly landed on the culprit of the snore. Noah lay curled up next to me on the couch, his back pressed against the back of the couch and his front pressed against my side. His head was right next to mine, and I could feel his warm breath brush over my cheek with every exhale.

I hadn't felt this level of calm and contentedness in I don't know how long. Honestly, it scared me.

I let a hand rest on Noah's cheek, my thumb gently caressing his skin. I needed to know if this was at all real or if I was just hallucinating. Noah and I had sober sex for the first time last night. And on top of that, we shared several intimate moments where the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering so crazy I thought that I'd vomit. My feelings were confirmed and set in stone now.

As I studied Noah's sleeping face, I wondered what this all meant. There were a lot of "what if's" in this situation, and if I allowed myself I could talk myself out of all of this and go running for the hills. If I tried hard enough I could shut Noah out of my life and forget any of this happened. But I didn't want to. Not at all.

Why don't I let myself be happy? Is it so unbelievable that Noah could feel the same way about me that I do about him? Even if he doesn't feel the same way, I owe it to myself to at least put myself out there and see if there is even any potential between Noah and I. I was tired of running and denying my feelings for him. It was time to face the facts and do something about it.

Despite my little pep talk, nerves erupted in my stomach. I pressed a soft kiss to Noah's cheek, blushed at my boldness, then carefully untangled my limbs from his and got up from the couch. My shirt was no where to be found, so I slipped on Noah's button up and my panties and made my way to the kitchen.

I needed to keep myself busy until Noah woke up, so I figured the best thing for me to do was make us breakfast. Hopefully he'd be awake by the time I finished cooking. I promised myself that I'd talk to him over breakfast. The thought of admitting my feelings to him almost made me want to jump in front of a train. What if he didn't feel the same way? I blocked out those thoughts by rummaging through the fridge.

I was so nervous that I decided to go all out for breakfast. I was a nervous cooker and eater, so I knew I needed to make an ample amount of food to stuff in my face, regardless of the outcome of the talk with Noah. It could either go really good or really bad. There was really no in between.

I had just taken the last slice of French toast off of the stove when I turned around, jumping in surprise when I saw Noah standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Shit, how long have you been standing there?" I said with pink cheeks, setting the full plate of French toast on the island.

Noah sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Not long," he muttered. "Smells good." He nodded towards the feast I had made.

"Thanks... uh, you hungry?" I cursed myself for being so awkward. "I actually wanted to uh, talk about something? If that's okay."

To my surprise, his face brightened slightly. "Yeah I actually wanted to talk about something too. Let's sit and eat then we can talk."

He walked over and put his phone on the dining table, then went to rummage through the fridge. I grabbed the plates of food and took them to the dining table, placing them in the center of the table. Just as I placed the plates down, Noah's phone lit up with a text. My blood went cold and I clenched my jaw as I read the text.

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