When August Ends

Noah: Don’t be.

Heather: I’m embarrassed about how she treated you.

Noah: You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You didn’t do anything.

There was something I really wanted to get off my chest.

Heather: You don’t have to feel sorry for me…for my situation. I can tell you do. I have a choice, you know. I could’ve left home. I made the choice to stay.

I could see he was typing a response.

Noah: I know that.

Heather: So…34, huh?

Noah: Yes.

Heather: That’s not that old.

Noah: Still old enough to be your father.

Heather: Yeah, if you were 14 when you had me!

Noah: Technically possible.

Heather: You had me thinking you were in your forties, though I never thought you looked it. This makes more sense.

Noah: There’s a world of difference between 34 and 20.

The only thing standing between thirty-four and twenty right now was the short walk to the boathouse. I couldn’t contain what I was feeling. We’d been connecting out there tonight. I could feel it. I wanted to see him again.

Heather: Can I come over?

After a minute, he finally texted back.

Noah: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

I’d been bracing for that response, but it was still a bummer.

Heather: Ok.

I felt so defeated. Even if he wasn’t interested in me romantically, I wasn’t ready to say goodnight to him. Okay…maybe part of me still hoped he would change his mind about me.

Several minutes later, the last thing I expected was for my phone to chime again.

Noah: Unless…

My heart skipped a beat as I typed.

Heather: Unless what?

Noah: Unless there’s leftover bread. We never touched it. Did you throw it out? I’ve been jonesing for it.

Heather: No! I forgot about it. It’s still sitting on the counter.

Noah: Well, it would be a shame to let it go stale. You should bring it over and I’ll throw it in the toaster oven.

Bread—and a side of you—would be great.

I couldn’t stop smiling as I responded.

Heather: Be there in five.

***

I should’ve known he had no plans to invite me inside.

Noah was out smoking a cigar on the porch when I arrived. I guess I couldn’t blame him. Aside from a small table, the entire boathouse was pretty much a bedroom. There wasn’t even a couch, just the bed and a kitchenette. We would have had to sit on the bed, and I knew he wasn’t having that.

“So…” I said. “Teddy brought me this as I was walking out the door.” Noah’s big shoe landed with a thud after I tossed it to the ground.

“Is that his name? I call him Fathead in my mind.” He chuckled.

“He does have a really big head.”

“Biggest one I’ve ever seen on a dog.”

“I’d have to agree with you on that.”

“Yeah, he had my shoe in his mouth when I was leaving, then took off with it. I didn’t feel like chasing him upstairs, so I let him have it.”

“I think taking your shoe was him trying to get you to stay. Why didn’t you come get me instead of walking home with one shoe?”

“Sometimes you have to know when to walk away, even if it’s without your shoe. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, in this case, I do. I don’t blame you for booking it out of there.” I sighed.

“Your mother is just looking out for you. I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

Why did I trust Noah so implicitly? It was a gut feeling, I guess.

“I’ll put the bread inside,” I said, squeezing past him and making my way into the house. After placing the loaf next to the toaster oven, I returned to the porch.

I sat right next to him, and he automatically moved a few inches away. He seemed very conscious of my closeness, and I could tell it made him uncomfortable. I just didn’t know the reason why—whether he didn’t like it, or he liked it but didn’t think he should like it.

Noah blew out a couple of smoke rings. His hair was wet from the shower. Thinking about him taking a shower made my nipples hard as I imagined the water streaming down that carved back to his muscular ass.

He had changed into a fitted white T-shirt that hugged his chest. I looked down at his forearms and imagined him using them to lift me. I loved the way the veins protruded.

Since I’d also taken a shower, I chose my words carefully to gauge his reaction.

“Looks like we both had the same idea. We showered together tonight.”

His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. Had my comment created a visual?

There’s definitely something there.

He remained quiet, so I said, “I don’t know why, but I have this feeling there’s more to you being here than you’ve said, that there’s a reason you ran away from your life. It’s none of my business, and it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”

“You’re right about that.”

“That you’re hiding something?”

“That it’s none of your business.” He blew out some smoke and ignored my quest for more information. “I assume you didn’t tell your mother you were coming over.”

“No, but it doesn’t matter. I’m an adult. She can state her opinion, but she can’t tell me how to live my life. I’ve given up enough by staying home with her and running things around here. I’m not letting her tell me who to spend time with on top of that.” I gestured to his cigar. “Can I try it?”

“No.”

“Come on. You don’t buy me wine. The least you could do is let me have a puff. I’ve never tried a cigar before.”

He flicked some of the ashes and let out a frustrated breath before handing it to me.

I wrapped my lips around it, noticing the wetness from his mouth. It made me long to feel his actual mouth on mine. His eyes were glued to my lips as I inhaled and coughed.

Handing it back to him, I coughed again. “Thank you.”

Noah was amused. “What did you think?”

“Not for me.”

He chuckled.

We were silent for a bit and then he asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I hadn’t realized I’d been looking at him funny. But I knew the answer.

“Because there’s so much I want to know about you, but I’m afraid you’ll chew my head off if I start prying.”

“You’re probably right.” He stared down at the cigar in his hand before he turned to me. “What do you want to know, buttinski?”

“Everything. Too much.” I sighed. “But for starters, why is a catch like you not married at thirty-four?”

“You’re assuming I haven’t been down that road already.”

My heart nearly stopped. “You were married?”

He looked down at his cigar, then up at me. “Yes, I was.”

Wow. “What happened?”

He blew out some smoke as he gathered his thoughts.

“Well, I could lie and tell you we grew apart because we got married young or some shit, but that wouldn’t be the only reason. The truth is…I was a selfish bastard who put myself first. I chose to travel half of the time instead of being home, and I didn’t give her the attention she deserved. She found what she needed in someone else. So, if that’s your definition of a catch, maybe you should reassess.”

Holy crap. Noah had been married. I was still trying to wrap my head around it.

“You’re formally divorced?”

“As of three years ago, yeah.”

“Do you regret how it ended?”

“I regret how I acted, that I was a shitty husband, but I’m not sure I regret that it ended. The experience made me realize I’m not really cut out for marriage, and she found someone who is. So it worked out in the end.”

“Do you still speak to her?”

“Do you ever stop with the questions?”

“No.” I grinned sheepishly.

He sighed. “Yeah, I just spoke to her today.”

“Really?”

“We’re friends. She’s remarried now. But she still checks in on me from time to time.”

“Well, that’s nice, at least, that you’re on good terms.”

“We’ve known each other a long time, since we were kids. We started out as friends. I suppose we’re ending that way, too.”

“Wow,” I said, soaking in everything he’d told me.

We sat in silence for a bit, and then I realized something. “We’re both in the same situation now.”

He lifted his brow. “You’re divorced, too?”

“No, what I mean is…you like to point out that I haven’t lived, that you’ve gone to college, traveled the world, and now, come to find out, you’ve been married. Our lives couldn’t have been more different—up until this point. Yet, here we are in the very same place looking at the same moon by the lake, both single and uncertain of the future. Don’t ask me how I know that about you—that you’re in some kind of limbo—I just do. We’re both in the very same place in life despite our past experiences and the years between us. Am I right? We’re not so different, Noah. We’re not. Maybe you were meant to meet me.”