Would You Rather: A Novel
Would You Rather: Chapter 17

The next two weeks went by in a blissful haze. Mia went to class and studied as much as she possibly could while Noah was at work.

Because when he got home, all bets were off.

Sometimes they didn’t even make it past the living room.

He would have respected her request if she asked for more time to focus on school in the evenings, but she thought about him constantly. By the time he walked through that door every day, it was all she could do not to throw herself at him.

She did once and had been very well received.

Her favorite discovery to date: Noah was more dominant in the bedroom than she would have expected. Forget coffee creamer or toothbrush arrangements, him taking her against the wall by the front door would be the thing she replayed in her mind when she was old and alone, thinking about the brief point in her life when she allowed herself to let go and be carefree with someone.

Sometimes he made love to her slow and sweet, as if he were trying to communicate from the very depths of his soul. Their bond felt unbreakable, and in those moments she didn’t want the feeling to end.

But nothing compared to the times when his control slipped. The knowledge that she could turn her sweet, gentle, thoughtful husband into a crazed man hell-bent on making her scream his name turned her on beyond reason.

Which brought them to their current predicament: naked on the kitchen floor, which was neither comfortable nor particularly sanitary. The magic had happened on the kitchen table, but somehow they’d ended up here, sharing a plate of sugar-free cobbler Mia had pulled out of the oven minutes before he walked through the door.

Noah let out a satisfied hum. “If being a dietician doesn’t work out, I second Claire’s idea that you should open up a bakery.”

She grinned. “I love the idea of baking as a complement to my job. Share my recipes to help kids and parents replace ways to make foods healthier, but still taste good. And be creative when kids have allergies or food aversions.”

“That works, too.” He grinned. “I benefit either way.”

After taking another bite, she leaned her head against the cabinet and studied him. She let her eyes roam his muscled body, and reached out to touch a small raised scar on his upper left thigh. “I’d never noticed this before.”

“I don’t think you had reason to see that area before recently.”

She laughed. “True.” She bit her lip and glanced at a nearby body part. “Speaking of, I don’t know how you kept that hidden from me for so long.”

The fork clattered to the plate. “Shit, Mia.”

“I’m just saying. Damn.”

“Weren’t you trying to ask how I got my scar? Because you’re quickly derailing my attention.”

“I can see that.”

“Alright.” The plate hit the floor and he was on his feet, holding out his hand. As soon as she was standing he dipped down and hauled her over his shoulder.

She squealed and laughed as he carried her down the hall to the guest room. When her back hit the mattress, she looked around. “Why are we in here?”

“We haven’t done it in here yet.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re one of those men who wants to christen every room in the house.”

He stood before her in all his naked glory. She’d never seen anything sexier. How had she not wanted to jump him every single day for the last nine years?

“Not just every room. Every surface.”

“Impossible.”

“Try me.”

“The toilet.”

He made a face. “Okay, every feasible surface.”

She laughed and pulled him onto the bed, rolling on top of him. She sat up and ticked off her fingers. “We’ve taken care of your room, the living room, the entryway, and the kitchen.”

He lifted his hips. “The guest room is as good as done.”

She sucked in a breath. “Mmm-hmm…and um…” His large strong hands began massaging her thighs, and it was hard to think. “Sh-shower?”

“We can make that happen.”

“Laundry room.”

“Add it to the list.” He slid one hand slowly up her back. “You done yet?”

“Hallway,” she whispered as he put pressure on her neck to pull her down to his lips.

“Consider it done.” He kissed her. “I’ll never get enough of you, Mia Adrian.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her mouth more firmly to his, hoping to distract him from her lack of response. It would be so easy to say it back. Tell him she never wanted this to end.

And it would be true.

But she couldn’t only think of what she wanted. She had to consider the good and the bad, and the baggage that followed her wherever she went. Noah had his own to deal with—more than she’d even realized—and she couldn’t pile more on his shoulders.

Couldn’t and wouldn’t.

Neither had said they loved each other out loud yet—at least not in the “I’m in love with you” way—even though she felt it, and she knew he did, too. It was as if they were both holding back just a tiny bit to keep their bubble intact for as long as possible.

If she said those words, it would be almost impossible to walk away. So she did the only thing she could for now and tried her best to show him.

The next evening Noah drove them to meet Claire, Graham, and Reagan at Top Golf.

She watched him drive for a few minutes, admiring his forearms on display and his strong hands gripping the wheel. “Hey. You never told me about the scar on your thigh.”

“Technically, you never asked.”

“You distracted me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little.” Mia fidgeted in her seat. “But we can’t do that now—”

“I don’t know, we haven’t done it in the car.”

“Noah.”

“Mia.”

“We’ll be late.”

His lips thinned. “Fine.”

“So how’d you get it?”

He sighed, a muscle in his cheek flexing. “It’s a glass cut from the accident. I fell when I was climbing out through the window and a shard lodged in there pretty good.”

Everything seemed to slow as Mia pictured the scene and how horrible it must have been. Losing Nathan had been awful, but the selfish part of her was deeply grateful that Noah made it out alive.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

He reached across the console and took her hand. “Me too.”

She held his hand tight for the rest of the drive, and only released it long enough for them to get out and meet at the hood of the car.

The others had already secured a bay on the third floor with couches that faced the open-air side of the building and the driving range beyond.

“You made it,” Reagan greeted.

“Can’t trust them to be anywhere on time these days,” Claire remarked with a sly grin. Mia hadn’t gone into much detail, but had let her best friend in on the recent development in her and Noah’s relationship.

Her left ear was still ringing from Claire screaming through the phone.

“Lucky bastard,” Graham muttered.

Noah clapped him on the back and sat on the couch, settling Mia close to his side. “Have you ordered anything yet?”

“Just drinks,” Claire said.

“Have you ever been here?” Mia asked Reagan, who sat on the opposite end of the L-shaped couch.

“Nope. Never been golfing, either.”

“That’s okay, I suck, too,” Claire said. “Mia’s the best out of everyone.”

“Excuse me,” Graham interjected.

Noah rolled his eyes. “You know it’s true.”

Graham glared at him. “Fine. But I’m second best.”

Claire studied her thumbnail. “Second best at hitting the ball or getting drunk while hitting the ball?”

“Both.”

Mia pointed to Graham. “You’re definitely better at getting drunk than me.”

Graham did a fist pump and grabbed a club. “I’ll get us started. Reagan! Watch and learn.”

Mia settled against Noah’s chest, watching Graham attempt to give Reagan a crash course in perfecting a golf swing. Noah’s arm curved around her shoulder, his hand stroking up and down her arm while his pine-scented aftershave did something funny to her insides. The September weather was perfect, and she sighed with contentment.

She caught Claire watching them with a satisfied smile, and Mia made a mental note to thank her friend for helping them down this road. She’d always been Mia’s cheerleader, encouraging her to do things she never would have considered on her own.

Drinks arrived, they ordered food, and began cycling through to take turns hitting the ball. Mia had grown up golfing with her dad, so she usually took the lead early on. She hadn’t golfed much after her relationship with her parents became strained, so she always enjoyed coming here, even if it brought back memories. Half the places marked on her family’s map of dream travel destinations had been linked to some golf course her dad wanted to play, and there was a time she’d thought maybe she’d get to go and play a few with him. A pang of sadness ripped through her earlier contentment, and she thought about the letter that remained in the duffel bag she’d brought from her old condo, still unopened.

A cheer from Reagan brought Mia out of her thoughts, and she forced herself to focus on the present.

Mia beat everyone the first two games, but second place was tied between Noah and Graham. As was typical when he’d had a few beers, Graham became Mr. Competitive.

“Best two out of three, my man,” he said to Noah. “What do I get if I win?”

“Bragging rights?” Noah offered.

“Pfft. That’s nothing.”

“Okay…drinks are on me?”

Graham frowned. “That’s better, but I don’t know. I was thinking something bigger. Along the lines of you coming on the ice-climbing trip in November.”

Mia looked up at that. “Ice-climbing trip?”

“Good Lord, he won’t shut up about it,” Claire said.

“It’s true,” Reagan agreed. “I know more about crampons and ice screws than I ever cared to.”

Mia regarded Noah beside her, but his eyes were on Graham, expression hard. “What are they talking about?”

His gaze softened as he looked down at her. “Graham and some other guys are going ice climbing in Banff. He mentioned it a little while back, but I can’t go.”

Graham snorted. “Can’t? More like won’t.”

An edge entered Noah’s tone. “Either way, the outcome is the same. I’m not going.”

Mia looked between the two men, trying to decipher their standoff. Noah and Nathan had talked about ice climbing often, and it was something on both their bucket lists. They’d made her watch K2, their favorite climbing movie, three times before she put her foot down and said it was too depressing and had too little love story for her.

Would Noah really forgo something he’d always wanted to do because Nathan was gone?

Graham darted a loaded look in her direction before shaking his head and grabbing a driver.

Noah sat stiff beside her, his eyes locked somewhere beyond the open course. Reagan’s words from the day Mia moved out echoed in her brain.

He can’t be going out of town every weekend and leaving you alone.

Or did his reason have nothing to do with Nathan at all?

She thought about it the rest of the evening and considered asking Noah about it on the drive home. In the end she remained silent, unconvinced it was worth it to ask a question she didn’t really want to know the answer to.