Something of a Kind - By Miranda Wheeler Page 0,47

“Well, that’s terrifying.”

“Awkward andconfusing,” Owen added.

“Compliments to the chef!” Luke shouted, kissing pinched fingers and flicking them towards the water-damaged ceiling.

“Will you shut up?” Noah laughed. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it's not.”

“Young, what are you even saying? I don’t know what you’re even saying right now. Locklear, what the hell is he talking about?” Owen intervened, looking back and forth between them.

“No idea.”

“You don’t know? Bro, I don’t even know. That’s why it’s beautiful,” Luke snorted, drawing out each syllable as though they were separate words. “So, is she?”

Noah glanced at his wrist. It was growing irritated, his fingers tracing the ink raw. He had offered his necklace and let the artist work it up. When he saw the design on paper, he knew he wanted it. Nothing else mattered – not the fresh paycheck in his pocket, not Tony’s cautious warnings to consider it fully, not what anyone would think. It suited him, spoke to him– rebirth, second chances – clichés he would have killed for. It came easily, saying yes, putting everything he had on the table. He had been prepared to sit through the cost of marking his skin – pain, time, lectures. He knew full and well that it would graze the bone.

“You sure, man?” The guy had asked. “It’s pretty big for your first. Thick lines, black ink, and the wrists… it’s gonna hurt and it’s gonna take a while. You prepared for this?”

Aly was a different desire– different, obscure, complicated, but maybe just as wrong.

He looked at his friends. They exchanged a glance, grins spreading.

“I hope so.” Noah shrugged, swallowing. “Is that wrong?”

Luke shook his head. Owen shrugged

Both said, “Not wrong at all.” CHAPTER 13 | ALYSON

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

It wasn’t the first time he had asked. Noah had pulled over, bringing it up again at the town’s only stoplight, paused outside of the parking lot, and offered to leave again while idling inside it.

Though Aly knew he had somewhere to be, Noah didn’t seem rushed or anxious. Instead, they both sat buckled, sneaking sidelong glances. Her hands were folded around the phone in her lap. Noah kept one loosely folded eleven o’clock on the wheel, the other on her knee. He hadn’t started the ignition to leave, and she hadn’t worked up the courage to step out.

Stalemate.

Unable to answer just yet, she bit her lip. Nodding towards the flashy silver in a reserved space, she observed, “I think that’s Greg’s SUV. I guess he’s home early.”

“I thought it was at the diner.”

She swallowed, nerves twisting in her stomach. “Me, too.”

“Jerky,” he commented, having jumped to the same conclusion as her. Greg got impatient and controlling and dug for the extra keys.

Did he lie about the trip?

“I’ll take you in the morning. You can figure out what you’re going to say,” he added, squeezing her knee. “I’ll take you home right now, if that’s what you want. Or you can come back with me. You don’t have to go alone.”

Aly shook her head, hair falling across her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to push it back in the tight French braid her mother adored, or spend the night hiding behind it.

Noah’s hesitation had keyed doubts in her testimony, forcing her to consider the motives she couldn’t identify. It seemed strange his support now was the only thing keeping her brave enough to go through with it.

He tucked the strayed curls behind her ear and twisted in his seat to face her. She sighed, raising a hand to cover his as it rested on her cheek. Closing her eyes, she focused on his warmth, like fire after sundown. When they fluttered open, Noah leaned close. He kissed her forehead, pulling her into an encompassing embrace. Pressed against his chest, his touch sent heat through her skin. Her hands rested against his muscular back, sliding to fold across his spine as her arms crossed. Breathing in his scent, Aly shivered.

“Whatever you decide, it’s going to be okay,” he promised.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

As she unbuckled and gathered her things, Noah kissed her. Trying to hold onto the courage she felt when he made her tremble, she waved after shutting the door. He didn’t start the engine until Aly stopped looking back.

The office was pushed back in the trees down the road from Yazzie’s, almost curling onto a side-street, the building’s back to the marina. At least two stories high with reflective glass paneling, double-door entrances, and a lit-up marble