We Make Mayhem [boyxboy]

Chapter Sixteen

Dawn was staining the sky by the time I was finally able to peel my burning eyes off my laptop screen. I lay there as pink light filled my room, staring at the ceiling. The Temptr FAQ, endless online forum posts, and a million of my own questions ran through my head. They almost overpowered out my elation... almost.

I pressed my face into my pillow to silence my giddy laughter. I kicked my feet in the air. Bubbles of hysterical happiness swelled in my chest for the umpteenth time since I had read the words Noah Lord on that motherfucking app.

Noah. Noah Lord. He was mine and I was his and this whole Temptr thing was real.

I had been so stupid. So ignorant. All those months of tagging along with Chloe on her activist bender and I never knew a damn thing about Temptr. I just assumed it was fake, because how could it be real?

But it was real. I knew how I felt about Noah long before his name came up on my screen. I didn't know if it had started from the moment I saw him, but I had gone to the party intending to make a move and when he finally brought me into his bedroom, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me... it all felt like it was meant to be.

The question that really kept me awake was whether Noah knew we were matched. I kept going back to his words that night—"I knew." He said he knew we would end up hooking up, and when I pressed him, he shrugged and repeated it: I just knew.

He must know we're matched. Get up here, hot shot—he'd have to be the boldest, most reckless flirt on the planet to say that to a guy he thought had a girlfriend.

I rolled over in bed. Now to make a plan for when I saw him on Monday. Should I just come right out with it? So you and I are biologically, emotionally, intellectually, and sexually attuned, eh?

But what if he didn't know?

First thing, I had to find out. Then... well. Ask him out on a date or something. Then deal with Chloe.

That was definitely a problem for a Riley who had had some sleep.

I finally fell asleep to the sound of birdsong and the memory of Noah's lips.

*

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It sounded like someone was hitting the house with a hammer at eleven in the morning. As I woke up, I realized that someone really was hitting the house with a hammer. The bangs reverberated through the whole house. I could tell Dad was fixing the siding at the front of the house, under the eaves—something Mom had been asking him to do for years. Why was he doing it now, after weeks of barely even seeing us?

I went out onto the front lawn and watched him work. He was up on a ladder, pounding away at the shingles near the roof. He didn't notice me until he twisted around to reach for more nails from his tool belt.

"Mornin', Ri," he said, as if there was nothing weird about this.

"Where've you been?" I asked.

He fished a couple nails out of the tool belt, stuck them in his mouth, and continued nailing the replacement shingles. When he was down to one nail in his mouth, he grunted, "Been really busy at work lately."

Bang, bang, bang.

"Awfully convenient that work gets busy right when you most want to run away."

Dad sighed. "Riley, I don't know what to say."

I crossed my arms. I didn't want to let him off easy, even though I desperately wanted to drop the tough-guy act and break down in front of him and ask him what the fuck I should do.