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E L L I O T

I settled with a cup of room-temperature vodka after leaving to go find the drinks. Between a bottle of tequila that was lying half-empty on the floor and a sticky keg of beer, I figured the vodka was the best option.

Only a little, I reminded myself, pouring the clear liquid into a spare cup I'd found lying around in the kitchen.

Roaming around the party, I found myself thinking about Noah.

We hadn't been spending much time together lately. Between working at the convenience store and pulling the graveyard shifts at Joe's, my spare time had been wearing thin. And I probably wouldn't admit it out loud, but... I missed him. I missed the way he made me laugh.

And I hadn't been laughing much lately, either.

"Have you seen Noah anywhere?" I asked a small group of Stray Dogs that happened to be chatting amongst some loud women near the front door.

One of them gave me a pointed look. "Who?"

I sighed, quickly spotting my mistake. God, I always forget.

"Edge," I corrected myself, clearing my throat in an attempt not to stumble my words. "Have you seen him?"

The girl beside him tilted her head with a frown. From the looks of her expression, she was more than ready for me to stop interrupting their conversation.

"He's hotboxing a truck with Shooter and Chains outside," she said flatly. "Said not to bother 'em."

I did my best to offer her a grateful glance. "Thanks."

But she just ended up waving me off, totally disinterested.

I weaved through the bodies pooling in through the door and made my way out of the party. The refreshing blast of cold Boston air as I stepped outside offered a welcomed relief from the overpowering stench of alcohol and gave a pink tint to my cheeks. Perhaps I should have brought a jacket, though—it was pretty cold this late at night.

I had no idea what I was doing.

I didn't want to be a bother to Noah and his friends, but at the same time, I didn't want to be wandering the party alone. And in all honesty, hanging out with Chains and Shooter sounded a lot nicer than having to face James again. After all... they didn't mind me, did they?

Doing my best to spot them past all the lively people hanging around outside, I walked around for a little while before finally catching the sight of Noah's truck off to the side. Away from all the commotion of the party, the truck sat idle in the grass beneath the dark shade of a few tall trees. The windows were too tinted to make out anybody inside.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I made my way in their direction, leaving all the noise behind me.

And someone must have spotted me coming, because I watched a window roll down as I approached the passenger side door.

Shooter whined from inside the car. "Damn it, Chains, you're letting all the smoke out."

"You're the one who let off a stink bomb right under my nose," Chains hissed, pinching his nostrils together. "That's fucking gnarly, bro. What is that? Cabbage?"

"Grandma's enchilada, actually."

"Fuck me."

Shooter erupted in a bout of laughs—like he'd never laughed a day in his life. There was a stiiizy in his grasp, and his face was flushed the same red as his eyes. Chains was a similar picture—only he had a rolled blunt pressed between his fingers, and a hand stuck in a purple packet of Takis.

Moisture filled my eyes as the stench of weed escaped the open window, right in my face. It was noxious, like a punch to the nose.

Oh yeah. They were definitely cooked.

Noah was sitting in the driver's seat with glazed eyes. Resting one hand on the steering wheel and pinching a blunt in the other, I watched the mischievous smile pull on his lips when he came to rest his focus on me. He looked so... docile. Wavy locks of dark hair fell softly down the sides of his temples, his freckled cheeks tinted a soft shade of red. The heater wasn't on in the car, so it wasn't much warmer than outside. A heavy metal rock song played over the car's radio.

"You guys seem to be having fun," I smiled at them as I rested my elbows on the frame of the open window.

Chains' reply was a drunken jumbling of syllables that seemed to match his lazy frown.

Shooter laughed at him. "Insult me in legible sentences please, imbecile."

Ignoring him, Chains rested his hands on Noah's shoulder and huffed, "I'm hungry."

Noah passed him a look and exhaled the thin wreaths of smoke that must have been sitting in his lungs. "I literally told you to order food before we got here."

"I know, but I'm famished and Shooter opened his damn mouth about the enchilada," he said, massaging his face. "My mouth won't stop sweating."

I grinned. "You mean drooling?"

Shooter, who was roaring with laughter in the back seat, slapped his knee over and over. "Famished? Famished?" he repeated, tears in his eyes. He then resorted to mockery. "My my, I'm utterly famished, distinguished gentlemen! Might I trouble thee for some bread?"

More raucous laughter. I saw Noah smile, shoving Shooter's head away.

"I think I saw a Wendy's down the road," he told Chains. He spoke slowly, like he could fall asleep at any second. "If I give you cash, will you both piss off?"

"Bro," Chains confessed, "I think I might be in love with you."

After Noah gave the silver-haired biker money, I stepped out of the way so Shooter and Chains could stumble out of the truck. Chains slung his arm over Shooter's shoulders and ruffled the bulkier man's hair, while said man giggled over seemingly nothing in particular.

Chains rubbed his stomach and promised, "I'm going to eat the Wendy's, bro."

Shooter was in stitches. "Oh how tremendously ravenous you are, my good lad! Rapacious... insatiable!"

Thankfully for Noah, the two of them were gone in seconds.

"Headcases," I heard him sigh.

The Stray Dog inhaled from his blunt while I got into the car beside him. He messed with the radio—dialing down the volume and changing the station to something calmer. The empty packets of junk food by his feet he made sure to kick away.

"Are you here to cuddle me to death again?" He teased.

My cheeks went beet red.

"Sorry again about... that," I mumbled shyly, realizing that I hadn't really planned out an excuse for coming to find him. "I'm not a very good drunk. Though, uh, you should be pretty safe tonight. I just thought we could hang out."

His stare lingered on me for a brief moment, but a chuckle left his lips not long after.

"Hang out," he said as if tasting the words on his tongue. Amusement crossed his expression. "What about your friends?"

I pursed my lips. "They're all kind of wasted... and noisy... so the fresh air is nice."

A slow rumble of laughter filled the truck. "Well, hate to break it to you, but there's really not much fresh air in here."

A smile pulled on my cheeks.

Changing the topic, I asked, "What are you doing here? It's not really a party for Stray Dogs."

Noah shrugged.

"Oh, you know. Someone invites their friend, who invites another friend, who knows a biker, who invites Chains... who invites me," he uttered slowly. "That's usually how these things go—whoever owns the place doesn't really cross our minds."

He leaned in and added, "But I'm glad I ran into you, Alley Cat."

His words made me chuckle.

"I'm starting to think we've made a nasty habit of running into each other, Stray Dog."

Noah smiled at the answer while breathing in from his blunt, humor dancing in his expression. He held it in for a few seconds before letting an exhale of smoke out the window. And his attention turned to me.

"Look here," he said softly. There was a flirty gleam in his eyes as I met his gaze.

He brushed his knuckles against the curve of my cheeks and pushed the soft fringe out of my eyes, making my skin glow with heat. But as the tingles were just beginning to electrify my nerves, I felt Noah's arm snake suddenly around my waist.

And, as if I weighed nothing, he lifted me over the center console and pulled me onto his lap. I opened my mouth to blurt out my surprise, but the motion was so seamless that I was already straddling him before I could even get a word in.

He whispered playfully, "That's better."

With wide eyes, I tried to process the position we were in.

I was sitting at the top of his muscled thighs, shamelessly straddling his waist while an amused smirk graced his rosy lips. My head hadn't hit the roof of the truck, thankfully—though I figured any haphazard motions from this point would quickly change that. Noah's chest was only inches from mine and his head was resting against the back of his seat. An incriminating blush stained my cheeks. I could feel the warmth radiating off his body in waves, subconsciously gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"You know, maybe it's a good thing you're not here to cuddle me tonight," he uttered, voice like liquid silk that made my body shiver all over.

"Why's that?" I slowly breathed.

He traced his lower lip with his tongue.

"I'm not sure I would've been able to contain myself."

A single sentence, and yet it had every nerve in my system firing on all cylinders. If the earth was flat, I would have walked all the way to the edge and thrown myself off. Noah drew me away from the thought.

"Your hair looks nice, darling," he murmured, purposely sticking his face up to be closer to mine. Tracing his fingers over the soft folds of the braid, he said confidently, "I did a good job."

My heart skipped a beat. Darling?

Noah inhaled from his blunt again. It was soft, slow, and longer than any other inhale he'd taken so far. His demeanor was one of calm bliss. It was as if his head were up in the clouds, attractive eyes sparkling like a thousand stars with the outline of my reflection. And the words he'd spoken... all of it helped me realize just how intensely high he was.

Doing my best to mask my flustration, I asked, "What on earth have you been smoking?"

A smooth hum filled the air in reply. Glancing down at the blunt momentarily, he tilted his head and paused in contemplation, resting his free hand on the side of my waist.

"Did you wanna try it?"

I bit my lower lip in thought—but I already knew the choice I was going to make. It was like I were under some kind of spell. This kind of passiveness wasn't something that I often got to see from Noah... so I couldn't help but entertain his whimsical ideas.

Succumbing to the feverish shimmer in his eyes, I slowly took his blunt between my fingers. The very smell of it was strangely familiar. Watching as Noah rolled the windows of the car shut, I brought the thinner end of the blunt to my lips and drew in a long inhale of thick fumes. It weighed heavy in my lungs. The smoke's earthy taste stained my tongue, somehow sweet and sour, flowery and muddy, bitter yet spicy—all at the same time.

"Trainwreck?" I deduced, letting the smoke clear out through my nose. Passing the blunt back to him, Noah licked his lips, somehow impressed.

He asked, "Now how'd you know that?"

I gave him a small smile and paid a little too much attention to his moist lips when rested put the blunt between them. "It's an old-time favorite... one of the very few that didn't taste like total shit."

Noah laughed lightly, shaking his head to himself. "You little pothead."

He met my gaze through thick lashes and licked his lips again—he seemed to do that a lot. I figured it was the high.

"I don't smoke it for the taste," he murmured to me, something risky in the way his eyes traced over my features. "Some of us like the way it makes us feel."

There was a dangerous game at play here.

"And how does it make you feel?"

Noah paused in contemplation, sitting up so that I had no choice but to feel his breaths fanning over my lips.

"Slow," he murmured by my jawline. "Hazy. Euphoric. Good. And kind of frustrated. Frustrated... because all I can focus on is the fact that my heart's been pounding like crazy since I first saw you walking over here. And it makes me reckless. It makes me feel like I can finally quit with all this damn restraint and act on every impulse I've had since the night we first kissed."

Oh my god...

Electricity flurried down my spine. A shaky breath left my lips at his words, a slow wave of desire creeping into my mind. He'd just said out into the open air what we'd both been holding back since that first night we kissed back at the apartment—that all this restraint was driving us crazy.

And like a magnet, my body was pulled to him at that moment. My gaze lingered on his lips. They were soft and round and a marvelous shade of deep pink, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't look away.

This was it.

In the next few seconds... I had to make a choice. A choice as simple as yes or no, but as difficult as separating the heart's desires from the reasoning of the mind. And, at least in terms of reasoning... I always made the mistake of placing my heart first. Every time.

But for once... it didn't feel like a mistake.

Sitting myself up on his lap, with my chest close to his and my arms wrapped around his neck, I found myself getting lost in a daze. Noah's lips... they were so perfect, smooth and plush and begging for me to kiss them.

His eyes embraced all the features of my face. I must have had my lips puckered, because when I finally leaned in to kiss him, Noah's hand suddenly cupped my mouth to stop me.

Surprise made my eyes widen. His cold rings pressed against my skin, my jaw held gently between his fingers and thumb. I watched him chuckle.

He said, "Careful there, Darling... you're the one who said no more kissing. You can't draw a line and cross it first."

Pulling his hand away, I drew in a soft inhale.

"I know what I said," I murmured, my lips so close to his that they were almost touching. It was driving me insane. My body was reacting on its own, and his smooth hands beneath my shirt weren't helping. I couldn't take it anymore. With my words hardly above a whisper, I finally asked, "Can I please kiss you, Noah?"

He kept his eyes locked with mine and pushed me back so that I was resting against the steering wheel. Fully expecting him to kiss me like I'd been anxiously waiting for, he just reached around to the glovebox and found what looked like breath mints. Swallowing down a few white pellets, he shook out the back of his dark locks and met my gaze.

I couldn't help but laugh at the gesture.

Noah's eyes were so beautiful, caring for my reflection with a deep sense of warmth and desire.  His hand brushed my face. Cupping my cheek, his fingers laced through the locks of hair that had come loose while I held my breath in wait for what I knew was coming.

Everything about him was a temptation. It felt like time had slowed for us because all I could focus on was him. His lips hovered just beneath mine, his attention centered on them. And when his lower lip finally grazed against mine... I couldn't stop myself from kissing him.

Finally.

Noah pressed up to me the moment our lips met, wrapping his toned arms around my lower waist to hold me close. My hands weaved through the dark tresses of hair at the back of his head.

It wasn't a long kiss. But it was fun. Fun, because I could notice the lingering taste of mint on him. Fun, because I couldn't help the small smile that tugged on my cheeks when I discovered it, distracting myself from his lips against my own. Noah hummed playfully in response, the complaint giving me no choice but to save the humor for later and kiss him deeply.

My mouth fit against his in a way that I'd never experienced before. His lips were everything and more—gentle, velvety, tender, and sweet. There was so much passion building at once. What started as a slow gesture of affection quickly progressed into a firm, breathless make-out session. And just as I was about to meet his tongue with my own, Noah pulled away.

I was disappointed at first. He inhaled from his blunt and put it out in what looked like a makeshift ashtray—which was really just a solo cup filled with water—before I felt his fingers weaving between the plaits in my hair.

Confused, I watched as Noah tilted his head, seven little words leaving his flushed lips.

"I always did like it better out."

And just like that, he pulled my hair free, letting the messy locks fall down the sides of my face. Soft hairs quickly fanned my forehead. I didn't even have time to react—Noah pulled my face to his and collided our lips together.

And this time, he meant it.

I was inhaling him—all of him. The vanilla cologne, the sweet mints on his tongue, the smoke locked between our mouths. I'm insane. I must be insane.

Letting his tongue brush against mine, I savored the unusual taste and felt chills spiraling down my neck the moment I felt that tongue piercing of his again. Cold metal. Hands lost in my hair, Noah held the sides of my head and kissed me with a dizzying amount of fervor, putting his tongue to use in a way that didn't leave me overwhelmed. Growing accustomed to the feeling, I sunk into his embrace and cherished the joy coursing through my veins.

It didn't feel as simple as 'making out' to me. This felt like more. The way his embrace was both protective and comforting while my heart leaped somersaults in my chest, begging never to be free from the moment we were in now. I was happy. This was good.

How did we get here again? I swore not to kiss Noah after what happened all those weeks ago, but I'd just broken my own rule like it was nothing.

It was as if there were a little red thread between us, a thread that would pull us together whenever the other tugged too hard. And maybe I would've hated that a few weeks ago... but I didn't hate the idea of it anymore. I was just scared.

I was scared, because I made the choice to kiss him. And I knew what that meant.

It meant I was ready to fall. It meant that I was making myself vulnerable. It meant that there was an opening for my heart to be broken again, and I was leaving myself exposed by my own will. It meant that I was allowing myself to be intimate again, in a way that I hadn't been in years.

So why can't I pull away?

The feeling... vulnerability... it was worse now, with Noah. Because whatever we had between us, it was intense. Our thread was woven with strands of gold, heavy and unbreakable. No matter how much I thrashed around and begged to be free, the thread wouldn't break. If anything, it just brought Noah and I closer together.

And it just felt so good. Like the lyrics of a love song. But I couldn't be in love, could I? I didn't even know what love was anymore. I just knew that with Noah... I was happy. And that kind of happiness was doomed to shatter in my hands.

We could never be in love.

Love was a lie.

Love was a two-faced snake. It was there to charm you, to seduce you with fantasies of comfort and happiness, only to sink its fangs into you and allow the venom to lay waste to your heart and mind. It was a trap for people who didn't know better. And I knew better.

...Right?

Noah and I kissed with a passion that made my face red and my heart thump wildly in my