Chapter Three

Noah pulled up his pants. Zipped his fly so fast it was a wonder nothing got caught. He was still shirtless, still panting, and despite the number the shock had done to him…he was still undeniably hard from the sight of Amanda’s flimsy T-shirt partway off her shoulder, her nipples protruding through the fabric. Her short, bleached hair sticking up wildly from where he’d run his hands through it, drawing her near.

Shit, no. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about Amanda’s lips, her body, how out of his mind he’d been only seconds ago.

Just think about how to get himself out of the unbelievable nightmare he’d woken up in.

“Noah,” she gasped, wiping her hand across her mouth as though to get the taste of his kiss off her tongue.

“Be quiet,” he snapped, glancing toward the door. If someone heard them, if God forbid Luke heard them and knocked on the door to find them half-naked together, that just-about-to-fuck look in their eyes…

He stepped closer to the bed so they could whisper—not to be nearer to her. If it were up to him, he’d be running out of the room so fast, their friends would think the house was on fire.

But he couldn’t do that. He had to stay disciplined. In control. He had to make this right.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, the words urgent and harsh.

“What am I doing?” she said, so loudly he practically jumped on top of her, waving his arms for her to shush. Did she want to bring the entire house running? Was she trying to get Luke to see what they’d done?

Finally, quieter, she said, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep,” he shot back.

He expected her to storm off. Or at least, hell, wouldn’t the normal thing be to apologize?

But instead, she started laughing. The only thing worse than realizing he’d just had his hands down Amanda’s pants was the fact that she was laughing in his face.

Not laughing like something was funny, though. Laughing like she wanted to kill him and go parading through town with his head on a spike. Laughing like he was the biggest idiot she’d ever met.

Which, maybe, he was. She ran her eyes up and down his body, lingering, he noticed, over the plane of his abs. “That didn’t feel like sleeping,” she said, staring at the bulge in his crotch.

His face flamed. See? This was why he’d never liked Amanda. She was so smirky and snarky and in-your-face about everything. Why couldn’t she just apologize nicely and leave?

“We traded,” Noah said, arms folded across his bare chest.

“After that whole song and dance about how Luke wanted the biggest room?”

“He liked the mattress in the other room better,” he mumbled, wondering why that, more than everything else, made his face feel impossibly hot.

Amanda threw up her hands. “And of course you gave it to him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She raised an eyebrow. Opened her mouth like she was about to say something then closed it and shook her head. “Forget it,” she said. “Let’s just—” She made a face, like she still tasted something bad. “Let’s pretend this never happened.”

“Fine with me,” he said.

“Fine.”

“Luke’s room is down the hall. You can wake him up instead.”

The look Amanda gave him was straight up murderous. But obviously he knew who she’d come in here trying to get with. Obviously, he knew who she wanted—and it sure wasn’t him.

With anyone else, it might have been funny. Some silly mix-up they could laugh about later—oh my God, remember that time when you got into bed with me? But neither of them were in the joking mood.

He waited for her to book it out of there so they could move straight to the never-speak-of-this-again phase instead of dissecting it more. But God forbid Amanda let anything slide.

“Who’d you think I was, anyway?” she said, her nose scrunching up in an ick face.

“I don’t know. I was half-asleep. I was just—” He couldn’t finish. He had no clue.

“You were just going to fuck anyone who crawled into bed with you?” she said crassly, giving him a you’re seriously disturbed look while she was at it.

He knew that was what the look meant, because she wore it all the time. Especially when talking to him. Luke was some demigod who could do no wrong in her eyes. But Noah? Half the time, she acted like he was a third wheel even though Luke was his brother, and Amanda and Luke weren’t even in a relationship, so it wasn’t like she had any claim.

The rest of the time, she acted like everything he did was nuts. Running was nuts, coaching was nuts, waking up early was nuts, being disciplined and giving a shit about anything besides himself was nuts. After Kristina had said she wanted her freedom, Amanda had told him he was “lucky” it had ended then instead of when things got even more serious.

If those things were crazy in Amandaland, he wanted nothing to do with whatever she thought was “sane.” Still, he had to admit he might have deserved the look now. He really didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

“Who’d you hope I was?” she asked. “Alix? Sasha?” The you’re an idiot smirk deepened. All three women were completely different. Now that he was awake and thinking about it, there was no way to mistake them.

But that was the thing. He hadn’t thought about it. It had just…happened.

It had only been four months since Kristina had wrecked him. He’d grown so used to feeling a warm body in bed with him. Was it too much to think that for one brief second, he might have forgotten how much everything had changed?

Luke wasn’t kidding when he’d said Noah slept like the dead. It was one of the best perks of being a running coach. He was too damn tired at the end of the day to keep his eyes open. That was a big reason why he’d gotten into it in high school. When he was on the track, or the trails, there was nothing in his mind but his breathing, the pump of his chest, the steady screaming in his legs and lungs that let him know he was alive.

Afterward, the blissful silence inside him continued. It cleared away everything—worry, heartache, stress…anything on his mind.

So when soft hands had reached for him in the darkness, he hadn’t thought about it. He’d simply reacted. Felt her kissing him and kissed her back. Felt her body moving and moved with it. Her hands, her skin, her scent, the dip in her lower back as she arched and ground against him…

Shit. He couldn’t think about how good it had felt or how he’d responded so completely.

He couldn’t deny it. He’d gotten carried away. There was no telling what more might have happened if she hadn’t whispered his brother’s name.

Fuck. Just the reminder that she’d wanted it to be Luke, had been imagining Luke the whole time her hands were running over his back, down his abs, to his fly, her hips moving with him, her breath hot in his ear—

If that wasn’t a massive boner-killer, he didn’t know what was.

“You should probably go now,” he said, his voice strained.

She stood up and walked toward him, arms folded over her chest as though that did anything to hide how her nipples were perfectly peaked. He tried not to stare, but it was hard to look anywhere else—not when the heat of her touch still lingered on his skin.

She got up in his face, leaning close. Not as close as they’d been in bed. But closer than they’d ever stood before.

He thought, for half a second, that she was going to kiss him again. He had no idea what he’d do if she tried. The only answer was to pull away.

But he couldn’t help thinking about that kiss and the way she’d slid into bed with him. How it had felt in the moments before she’d opened her mouth and ruined everything.

This was Amanda Perkins. This was crazy. He didn’t even like her.

And yet it might have been the best kiss he’d ever had. Not because it was the first kiss that he hadn’t known who he was kissing, the first one that he was too half-asleep to notice or care.

But because it had been good. Soft and sweet and open and wanting—all at the same time.

It’s because she thought I was Luke, a stern voice in his head reminded himself. Of course she’d wanted it. She thought I was somebody else.

And hadn’t he, too? For a moment, when her lips had touched his, he’d been able to forget everything he’d lost. He’d remembered what it meant to be wanted again.

But obviously she wasn’t leaning in to kiss him again. She was leaning in so there could be no mistaking her intention when she told him this was never, ever going to happen again.

“I know you and Luke are inseparable,” she said. “But if you breathe a word to him, I’ll cut off your balls in your sleep.”

Lovely. But she didn’t have to worry. He couldn’t imagine anything more mortifying than admitting he’d kissed Amanda, admitting he’d liked it, all while knowing she’d wanted it to be Luke and not him.

She didn’t need to storm off quite so quickly, like spending another second in the same room as him would be the worst thing in the world. But she was right. They’d pretend it never happened and everything would be fine. It wasn’t like they saw each other that often. She was Luke’s friend, not his.

And he and Luke would be gone soon enough. Six short weeks and it’d be as though this never was.

Even if, for tonight, it wasn’t going to be as easy to forget as he’d hoped. The famous Noah knock-out sleep wouldn’t come, no matter how much he tossed and turned.

He could still smell her on his sheets…all night. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he could still taste her surprising, beguiling sweetness on his tongue.