Noah Read online

  "Good afternoon, shorty."

  "Hey," I grumble as I nudge him away from the speckled granite counter and grab a mug to fill with coffee for myself. There's always a fresh pot of coffee on in my apartment when I'm home. I need caffeine continuously flowing through my veins to survive. You'd think I'd get enough at work to last the day, but I don't. "Next time you come over you should knock and wait for someone to let you in."

  "Why would I knock when I have a key?"

  Ugh.

  I never gave him that key. Caleb did. Around the same time we stupidly decided to rent the apartment across the hall from Noah.

  "Because knocking is the polite thing to do. We were...sleeping and you startled us."

  Turning to face him, I lean back against the counter and place my mug down next to me so I can fix my messy hair. I pull my short, shoulder length blond hair with subtle pink and purple streaks up into a messy ponytail and then resume sipping my coffee.

  "I almost forgot," Noah says, reaching into his pocket and changing the subject. Pulling out a Hershey's Kiss, he hands me the single piece of my favorite chocolate and I smile over at him before unwrapping the silver foil and plopping the chocolate kiss in my mouth. "Happy Unbirthday, shorty."

  "Thanks, Noah," I mumble back as I suck on the milk chocolaty goodness.

  We stand in the kitchen in silence, both of us enjoying our warm caffeinated drinks. Noah and I have a lot of these moments where we're both present in the room, but neither of us talks much. I long for the old days and how comfortable we were around each other. Conversation used to flow effortlessly between us. I was able to tell him everything, but since I've been dating Caleb our friendship has wavered. Sometimes I think the only reason we still talk and are in each other's lives is because Noah and Caleb are close friends.

  Caleb's feet tap against the hardwood floor of our apartment as he enters the kitchen dressed in a designer suit and dress shoes. His blond curls are slicked back and he's ready for work. He's adorable when he's dressed all business-like.

  “Listen, lover," Caleb says, directing the romantic pet name to Noah. "If you're going to come barging in here whenever you see fit, you better be prepared to suck my dick. Because of you I'm struggling with a massive case of blue balls."

  Noah laughs, spitting the last sip of coffee back in the cup. "It's not my fault your girl doesn’t want to get you off."

  "Jesus," I chime in. "I'm right here, guys. Can we please not talk about this." I'm uncomfortable with where the conversation is headed. I've known Noah my entire life and I don't want him to know any of the details of my sex life.

  They both ignore me.

  "Skye was just about to come, taking me with her, and then you came in and killed the mood."

  I wish I could say this is the first time they've openly discussed Caleb and my sex life in front of me, but it's not. They do it because they know it makes me uncomfortable, but they also know I won't stay mad. Caleb would never talk so vulgarly about it if he thought it really bothered me.

  "If she wasn't willing to finish with me in the other room, then you aren't doing it right, Caleb. You should have your girl so hot and bothered that a Tsunami could hit and she'd rather come and flood your dick than run for cover."

  Oh my God, are they really having this conversation right now?

  "Next time I'll get here earlier so I can watch. I can critique your performance and give you some tips." Looking at me, Noah continues, "You're into that type of kinky shit, right, shorty?"

  "Ugh," I grumble, leaving the kitchen that suddenly feels too small and suffocating with the two of them in it. I storm back into the master bedroom to get changed into normal clothing. After working at the coffee house early this morning I took off from my midday dog walking job and came home to take a nap, hoping to enjoy a peaceful afternoon in and not listen to those two talk about my sex life. Caleb had a rare afternoon off but now he has to head into work.

  Just as I'm about to close the bedroom door Noah yells, "I'm just kidding, shorty. I don't have to come in and watch you have sex with my lover. Caleb already lets me video tape you–shit! What was that for?"

  "Your big mouth, dick. Now she's going to be checking the bedroom for hidden cameras."

  Their banter causes me to let out a soft chuckle.

  Men.

  If the two of them weren't such idiots, and Noah and I were as close as we used to be, I'd probably find their inappropriate closeness sweet. But they are idiots–my cute, adorable idiots, so it's not sweet. Plus, Noah and I aren't close anymore. Sure, I see him everyday and he still knows everything that's going on in my life because he lives across the hall and is best friends with my boyfriend, but something has changed. It's like an invisible wall is up between us and no matter how hard I try, I'm unable to tear it down.

  I miss how easy it used to be between us. I miss being able to talk to him about anything and everything, and spending countless hours with him every day doing absolutely nothing and loving every minute of it. I miss the innocence of our relationship when we were kids and our biggest problem was choosing whose house we were going to eat at that night.

  Skye

  Age 8

  "Did you know that Mattel sells a pink Barbie dream house that's two stories high and you can buy a plastic pool separately to go in the backyard? I want it so bad."

  "They probably sell a bunch of Barbie shit, Skye. That's how corporations make money. They suck you in with a cheap Barbie and then they have all these add-ons where they really make the money. My dad explains it better than me."

  "Noah!" I shout with my eyes wide. "You can't swear in my house. If my daddy hears you you'll get in trouble." Noah's a few years older than me so I'm not surprised he knows so much about corporations and stuff, but I know he's not allowed to say bad words.

  Noah rolls his eyes and continues to play with one of my brunette Barbie dolls. He takes her sparkly orange and blue top off and starts playing with her boobs. It's really frustrating because I take a lot of time finding just the right outfit for each of my dolls and then he takes their clothes off in less than ten seconds.

  "Do you ever wonder why Barbie's breasts have no nipples?"

  "Gross, Noah. Can you stop playing with her boobs and put her pretty top back on. She needs to be dressed when my Wedding Barbie marries Ken in a few minutes."

  He doesn't set my doll down and it's infuriating. When he ran over here this morning in his basketball shorts and yellow video game t-shirt he wanted to spend the day on the lake, but I was already playing with my Barbie dolls. I thought he was being a good friend agreeing to play with me, when really he just wanted to get my dolls naked.

  "You know, if Wedding Barbie and Ken are getting married then we should set up a bed for when they have sex." He grins at me and wiggles his eyebrows, causing warmth to spread in my belly. His smile makes me happy.

  "What's sex?" I ask. I've heard the word used a few times before but no one ever explains it to me. They almost say it like it's a bad word.

  "You don't know what sex is? I sometimes forget what a baby you are," Noah teases.

  "Hey, I'm not a baby! I'm eight and you think you're so special because you're eleven, but when I get older I'm going to be way smarter than you and I'll be calling you a big baby."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yep!" I say triumphantly. I finish putting the veil on my Wedding Barbie that's getting married today.

  Noah doesn't say anything more and quickly puts the orange and blue top back on my Barbie he undressed earlier. He sits her down on the carpet next to my other Barbie dolls. They're all waiting for the wedding to begin.

  "This is so stupid. Make this wedding quick and then we can go back to my house and play Zelda on my Nintendo 64. I don't want to go to the lake anymore."

  I stand Barbie next to Ken and then look for my other Ken doll that's going to be the priest. When I have all the dolls ready I ask Noah, "What's sex?"

  He sighs–frustrated as he adjusts the
Mario and Luigi t-shirt he's wearing. "You're too young to learn what sex is, Skye, so don't ask me. I'll tell you what sex is when you're my age."

  "But I want to know now," I whine. I cross my arms and pout out my lower lip so he'll think I might cry. That always works with Noah

  "If your mom and dad found out I told you what sex is, they'll never let me play over here again. My parents don't even know that I know what it is."

  "I won't tell them, I pinky swear."

  He tilts his head and looks at me, deciding if he should tell me or not. After what seems like forever he reaches his right hand out and curls his fingers into a fist, but leaves his pinky out.

  Smiling because I wore him down, I reach out to do the same and we seal my promise with a pinky swear.

  Noah picks up my Ken and Barbie doll and places them in his lap–then he blows my mind when he starts undressing them.

  "Hey, what are you doing? I told you to stop undressing my dolls."

  "I'm not doing this for fun, Skye." He continues to take off their clothes until both dolls are naked. "I'm not going to give you the details of sex because you're too young, no matter what you say, and if I tell you everything you'll just have more questions. But to get an idea of what it is..." He trails off.

  Noah has Barbie lying down on her back and a naked Ken lies on top of her as Noah presses their plastic lips together.

  "It's basically two naked people kissing." He makes kissing noises as he rubs Barbie's plastic boobs against Ken's plastic chest.

  "Ewe. That's disgusting." I quickly grab Barbie away from him and put her wedding dress back on. "When I get married my husband and I are never having sex."

  "You'll change your mind."

  “No, I won't. Why would you think that?"

  "Because when I marry you, Skye, we are definitely having sex."

  Chapter Two

  The apartment is calmingly quiet as I heat up last night's take-out in the microwave. I pour myself a glass of white wine as I listen to the man on the other end of the phone.

  Tonight is one of the many nights Caleb has to work late now that he's officially a lawyer. I knew what I was signing up for when I started dating a law student, and now that Caleb works for a prestigious firm in the city he has to prove he belongs there.

  Or at least that's what he tells me when I complain.

  When Caleb was starting law school I thought he'd go into Business law, but instead he decided on Criminal law and being a defense attorney, which mean long hours working for some innocent, but mostly guilty clients. The money is great, which is what Caleb wants, but he has to leave his morals at the door to be a defense attorney.

  And that's what life is all about, isn't it? Money.

  Growing up where I did, in a small town outside Marquette, Michigan, we weren't poor but we never had a ton of money. It was something that occasionally held me back, and something I always said would change when I became an adult. That's why I wanted to go to college. My dream was to become a nurse during the day, and write my first book in the evenings–maybe becoming the next J.K. Rowling.

  So when I met Caleb my freshman year, I was a nineteen-year-old with endless dreams and possibilities. I never thought I'd settle down with my first real boyfriend, and I definitely didn't plan on dropping out of school after my freshman year and following that boyfriend to New York so he could further his education and continue on to law school.

  We moved from shitty apartment to shitty apartment while he finished school, but when we finally moved into our expensive apartment last year, Caleb offered to pay the entire rent. He was finally a lawyer and could afford the place, but being the stubborn woman I am, I insisted on paying half. We aren't married or engaged so it didn't feel right to let him pay for everything. I figured I would struggle now and once we settle down and have kids then I'll let him pay for everything.

  Stupidest decision ever.

  Our monthly rent is over four thousand a month and I can't afford paying half that working the jobs I do. It's crippled me in ways I never imagined, and I definitely can't go back to finish school if I'm expected to pay half the rent. I don't regret moving here, though. I'm glad I got out of my small town and get to experience New York.

  I've thought about taking Caleb up on the offer now, but he's been so great and he's proud of how hard I work, so I would feel like I let him down in some way if I asked him to pay it all now. My dream of going back to school will just have to wait, but I don't want Caleb to know that. It's why I've told him over and over again that giving up school was what I wanted and that when we get married one day, being a housewife will be satisfying for me.

  That statement is probably true for many women all around the world. Being a housewife is a hard job with many rewards; it's just not what I want. It won't satisfy me. Telling Caleb it's what I want is one of the few small lies I've told him over the years. I gave up everything I ever wanted to move to New York and be with him as he followed his dreams.

  Including my dignity.

  "You like that big boy," I say huskily into the phone. "Are you hard, baby? Do you want to spank it against my lips?" The voice on the other end of the line responds back with something vulgar and demeaning. I swallow my disgust and in my most sultry voice I moan into the phone, "Oh, yes...right there."

  The microwave beeps and I pull my dinner out and take a bite, moaning for real this time as the tender, juicy chicken satiates my hunger. The man on the other end of the phone thinks I'm moaning for him and then he grunts. I know he's probably coming all over himself, wherever he is.

  Wanting to end the call now that he's finished I say quickly, "That's good, baby. Go clean yourself up and I'll talk to you another night." I tap my phone to end the call and let out a huge sigh of relief because my last call of the night is over. No matter how many times I make and receive those calls, it never gets easier. I feel dirty and cheap and want to take a nice, long shower when it's over. The only good thing about being a PSO is the paychecks I get every week offset the funds I need after getting paid from my honorable jobs.

  That's right, I'm a phone sex operator at night.

  Caleb would flip his shit if he knew.

  I brought it up once, asking him what he thought of the women who work for Forbidden Desires, Inc., and he had only nice things to say. He believes that anyone trying to work to make money to live is doing okay in his book. I jokingly asked what he'd think if I started working there, and after a moment of hesitation, he said if I wanted to work there he'd support my decision.

  That moment of hesitation was all I needed to know that he wouldn't be okay with it...so I withhold it from him.

  It's easy to hide this third job from him on nights he works late. He usually doesn't come in until one or two in the morning and by then I'm done with my calls. On nights he's home it's a different story. We go to bed together and I feign sleep, waiting for the moment I hear his soft, subtle snoring and then I crawl out of bed, tiptoeing out of the room so he doesn't hear me. On those nights I make my phone calls out in the living room and pray he doesn't wake up.

  I tried to earn money the respectable way, I really did, but my coffee house job and dog walking in the late mornings and early afternoons just isn't enough to pay the bills. This isn't where I thought I'd be at twenty-five. I thought my life would turn out differently, but I'm looking at this as short-term. I can get over how much I dislike being a PSO if it's only going to be for a short time.

  Becoming a phone sex operator was a lot easier than you might think, not that I was seeking this job out. Noah has owned Forbidden Desires, Inc. for several years since inheriting it. He owns a successful bar with a club in the back that's considered one of the hottest spots in New York and has some of the classiest strippers. He has a legitimate escort service, a webcam series, a dance studio that teaches pole dancing and a class in the art of seduction.

  Forbidden Desires, Inc. has it all, including a 1-800 number where dirty men can call in and talk to hot,
young women. I'm one of those hot, young women, but Noah doesn't know it and I hope he never finds out. If he were to find out I'd never hear the end of it, and then he'd tell Caleb.

  Noah's signature may be on my paycheck every week but he thinks he's signing a check for my best friend, Kendall, who works as a secretary at his office. She set the entire thing up, made up some excuse on why she needed a separate paycheck for each job title, and every time I deposit my paycheck in her name, I withdraw a small percentage to help her out with taxes.

  Noah is none the wiser, leaving my secret safe...for now.

  After eating the rest of my chicken and rice take-out from my favorite restaurant down the street, I leave my glass of wine on the counter in the kitchen and walk back into the bedroom and strip naked. I change into my pink fleece unicorn pajama pants and carry my black tank top with me into the bathroom so I can wash my face before putting it on. I pull my hair up in a knot and brush my teeth, glad my night's work is over and I can relax on the sofa and wait for Caleb to get home.

  Sometimes I enjoy the solitude in nights like these. As much as I love living with Caleb, I like my alone time, too. There are nights where I've been alone for too long and complain to Caleb about it, but not tonight. Tonight I'm going to sit around and watch chick flicks, paint my nails and maybe treat my skin to a facial. I'll make popcorn along with a mug of hot cocoa and relax on the sofa until Caleb comes home. It's the perfect way to spend the rest of the evening.

  A sudden burst of noise comes from the living room, startling me because Caleb's still at work. While most women would hide or maybe call the police, I run to see who's in our apartment. With my black tank in my hand and drops of water running down my face I enter the living room and halt suddenly as I try and cover up my exposed breasts with the tank top. Noah is sitting on my sofa in sweatpants and a hoodie, scrolling through my Netflix queue and eating an open box of my favorite butter cookies.