The Kissing Booth by Beth Reekles

Chapter 3

SUNLIGHT WAS TRYINGto filter through the drapes, but it was weak early morning sunshine, and the glow turned the room a dark blue. I closed my eyes again, trying to snuggle my head down into the soft squishy pillow under my head. I curled into a tighter ball under a thick comforter.

I was so cozy and warm. And everything smelled . . . it was something between citrus and woodsy. Whatever it was, it was a really great smell. And I was sure I’d smelled it somewhere before on someone . . .

I gasped suddenly, sitting bolt upright.

My bedroom didn’t smell like that. And my bed was not this comfortable. Neither did my room have blue drapes.

So . . . where the hell was I?

I looked around. Everything was sort of familiar . . . But I definitely hadn’t been here before. I threw the covers off and saw I was wearing a boy’s shirt that was too big on me, just a plain gray shirt. It smelled just like the pillows.

I still had all my underwear on though – that was a good sign.

I climbed out of the bed carefully. What the hell had happened last night? I strained my memory, but came up short. I vaguely recalled dancing on the pool table. Had I really had that much to drink?

There was a disgusting taste in my mouth to match my pounding headache.

I must have thrown up. I remembered someone holding my hair back for me. It must’ve been Lee; he would’ve taken care of me.

But where was I?

I tiptoed over to the door of the bedroom and poked my head out. I practically cried in relief to see I was in Lee and Noah’s house. It must be Noah’s room I crashed in – in all these years I’d never been in his room.

So . . . why was I in Noah’s room? Why not one of the guest rooms? Or Lee’s?

I went back to the bed, my head pounding so hard I didn’t think I could stay on my feet much longer, and looked at the alarm clock. It was only half eight in the morning. In the hopes of sleeping off my hangover, I snuggled back under the covers, breathing in Noah’s smell.

Just as I was about to drift into unconsciousness again, the door opened slowly, making the hinges creak.

My eyes flashed back open immediately, and my eyes met Noah’s. He was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, hung right down low, and his chest and abs were still streaked with droplets of water, his black hair dripping.

My eyebrows shot up. Six-pack. Who’d have thought it?

I couldn’t help but blush at how he made my heart was race just by looking at me.

‘Sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘It’s okay,’ I said, my voice a little croaky. I cleared my throat, but even that noise hurt my head. ‘I just woke up anyway.’

‘Right. Hungover, much?’

I grimaced in response, making Noah chuckle. ‘You have no idea. I didn’t know I’d drunk so much.’

‘You had a load of vodka, I know that,’ he said, sitting on the end of the bed. My heart went wild. Couldn’t he have grabbed a shirt or some jeans before stopping to talk to me?

‘What do you mean? You know that? When did you see me?’

‘When you were about to strip off on the pool table in front of a bunch of the guys and then go skinny dipping,’ he said casually, looking sideways at me with those bright blue eyes.

I wondered if he could hear my heart racing. Probably. I hoped I wasn’t blushing anymore, at least. That would just be peachy.

My jaw dropped when his words sank in. ‘Oh, God. Tell me I didn’t.’

‘No, you didn’t. I had to carry you out.’

I gaped, my cheeks flaming, and covered my face with my hands, looking through my fingers at him. ‘I can’t believe I did that.’

‘Yeah, well . . .’

‘Thanks though. For stopping me. That would’ve been embarrassing this morning.’

‘You don’t say,’ he said sarcastically, but he smiled. ‘You threw up, too. Just FYI.’

‘What, in front of people?’

Oh, God, this just gets worse!I thought, mortified.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head and flicking water over me. ‘In my bathroom. I was trying to make sure you didn’t make an idiot of yourself or get hurt.’

I groaned, humiliated. ‘Sorry about that. I’m really sorry, Noah, I didn’t mean for you to miss the party or anything . . .’

He shrugged. ‘It’s okay. I didn’t mind.’

I scoffed. ‘Sure. Whatever. I think we both know it wasn’t exactly the highlight of your night having to take care of me.’

‘It wasn’t all that bad,’ he said after a moment, and smiled again. It wasn’t a smirk. It was a real, genuine smile that showed the dimple in his left cheek and made his eyes crease a little at the corners. It was infectious; I had to smile back at him.

‘Well, thanks, Noah.’ I couldn’t help but put a taunting emphasis on his name.

‘Anytime, Shelly.’

He reached over to ruffle my hair, and when I went to push him away I somehow ended up tumbling off the bed and pulling him down with me.

Noah was really heavy. He didn’t have a spare half-pound of fat on him, but he was a hell of a lot of muscle. And he was crushing me.

But I was caught by his bright eyes. He didn’t budge, either – just looked back at me.

Before it turned into too much of a staring match, I found my voice again. ‘Noah . . .’ I breathed.

‘Yeah?’ he said in just as hushed a voice.

‘You’re crushing me.’

He blinked a couple of times, like he was jerking himself back to reality. Then he said, ‘Oh, right. Shit. Sorry.’

He got to his feet, holding the towel around him – I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d dropped the towel.

No, Elle! Don’t even go down that road! Shut up! Stop thinking!

He offered me a hand and I got to my feet too. The shirt I was wearing reached barely past my butt, so I felt extremely self-conscious.

‘Um, when did I change?’ I asked, plucking at the shirt and looking around. I saw my dress draped over a chair.

‘Oh, I came back up to check on you and you woke up, and then you started to take off your dress because you didn’t want to crease it, you said, so I found you a shirt to wear.’ He shrugged, and scratched the back of his neck briefly.

I blinked, my brain trying sluggishly to catch up. ‘So . . . you saw me . . . in my underwear . . .’ Please say no, please say no, please—

His mouth twitched; he was trying so hard not to smirk. ‘Uh . . .’

‘Oh my God.’ I buried my face in my hands.

‘I averted my eyes, I swear.’

I laughed it off, saying, ‘Don’t worry about it,’ when truthfully, my pulse was roaring in my ears. Mr. Player averting his eyes? Likely story.

‘Lee’s downstairs cooking breakfast if you want any,’ he told me. His words tumbled out, as though he were trying to change the topic.

My stomach decided to growl in answer to him, making us both laugh. ‘Awesome.’

I headed downstairs, closing his bedroom door behind me. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, and sagged against the door.

‘Oh my God,’ I breathed, talking to myself. I thought I was totally over Noah. But after those five minutes – with him in a towel and me in his shirt, and him falling on top of me . . . My heart just wouldn’t calm down!

It was ridiculous. I knew Noah never saw me as anything other than the annoying girl who was his brother’s best friend. To him, I was nothing more than that, I was certain.

But still . . .

I fell backward suddenly, the door behind me disappearing.

Flat on my back, I blinked up at Noah, now wearing a pair of boxer shorts.

I cracked up laughing. ‘You wear Superman boxers!’

He looked down at himself, as though he needed visual confirmation of this. I watched pink blossom over his cheeks, and all I could think was, I made Noah Flynn blush!

He was smirking like he didn’t care, then winked and said, ‘You know you find them irresistible, Shelly.’

Is it that obvious?

‘Oh yeah, right,’ I scoffed. ‘Sure I do.’

I pushed myself to my feet again and pulled the shirt down as far as it would go. Still grinning foolishly at the knowledge I’d made him blush, I headed downstairs to the kitchen.

‘Rochelle, Rochelle, Rochelle,’ Lee sighed when I collapsed onto a seat at the bar table. ‘What am I going to do with you, my stripping, skinny-dipping little friend?’

‘Make me some breakfast?’ I replied hopefully.

He laughed, and turned back to the stove, throwing some more bacon into the pan. ‘The things I do for you.’