Authors: Holly Bourne
I moved my face closer and kissed him. “We could do…anything…and nobody could see us.”
Noah kissed me back tentatively. “Poppy. You
are
drunk.”
“I’m not any more!” I protested, curling my arms around his neck. “I was, but only for about five minutes. Then I looked at my reflection, that always helps, but it didn’t look like me.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
I couldn’t wait any longer. I just wanted to be kissing him, right now, at the ballet.
So I silenced him with my lips and whenever he tried to stop or complain I kissed him harder. Soon his hands were twirled up in my hair and he was eagerly returning my kisses, both of us oblivious to the show we were putting on for the audience below. The lights dimmed and the orchestra began to play. I pushed Noah away mid-kiss and turned my attention to the stage.
“Oi,” he said.
“Shh – it’s starting.”
I pulled my chair closer to his so our legs were touching. Then I gripped the railing and leaned over so I could get the best view of the dancers. They swirled their athletic bodies around the stage in a series of fluid, gravity-defying movements. I was transfixed by the beauty of it, by the costumes, by the way the men seemed able to pick up the women and throw them through the air effortlessly. However, the spell was broken and replaced by a much stronger one when I felt Noah’s hand on my knee.
“Hello, you,” I whispered, looking down at my leg. His hand had already crept an inch higher.
“Shh,” he said, his face still intently studying the stage. “I’m watching the ballet.”
My leg had started to burn with his touch as heat radiated out of his hand. Determined not to lose face, I returned my attention to the show, but was scarcely able to concentrate.
Noah’s hand moved up another inch, so it was just underneath the hem of my red dress. I readjusted myself in my chair. This was a mistake – it made Noah’s hand travel even further up my leg. His wrist was only resting on the middle of my thigh but it was enough to put me into sensory overdrive. Just the slightest flutter of his fingers left me feeling like my body was plugged into a high-power socket. All I could do was try and get some sort of revenge, so I reached out and put my hand as high up his leg as I dared. Noah gasped. I smiled and drummed my fingers as I kept my head facing forward.
I honestly couldn’t tell you what happened in the second half of the ballet. All I could say was that it was the most insanely erotic forty-five minutes of my life. I felt as though we were one surging current. Noah, to be fair, was a complete gentleman and his hand never went any higher, but it was still intimate enough to incite a massive reaction in me. Every hair was on end, my breathing ragged. And he, in turn, seemed to be just as railroaded by my touch. His leg was quivering. And at one point it was shaking so badly the rest of his body was practically convulsing.
Is this normal?
I began thinking to myself, but with a patter of Noah’s fingers the thought was forgotten before it had fully formed.
It was the staccato sound of applause that broke whatever trance we were in.
Noah’s hand left my leg as he stood up to clap. I shook my head dazedly and stood up to join him. The tutu-clad ballet dancers were curtsying and beaming at the audience. Surely it couldn’t be the end of the ballet already? But the curtains were drawn and the mass exodus began. The crowd jostled to slip out of the narrow exits, bags clutched to their sides, programmes tucked neatly under their arms.
“Shall we stay here a few minutes?” Noah said. “Wait for the crowd to thin out?”
I nodded, still dazed, as he took my hand.
“I don’t know about you,” he said, raising a cheeky eyebrow, “but I don’t think I could tell you one thing that happened in that final act.” He bent down and gave me a brief kiss on the lips. “You have a very odd effect on me, Poppy. I think I’m addicted to you.”
All I could do was squeeze his hand as my body struggled to return to normality.
I gingerly gathered up my coat and bag, and finished the last of the water off. Noah was right. I couldn’t feel the effect of the champagne any more. Maybe it was just the bubbles after all. He held my coat so I could climb into it.
“You alright?”
I nodded. “I’m fine…just…”
“A little overwhelmed?”
I nodded again.
Most of the audience had left. I checked around to make sure I had everything and, with Noah’s hand in mine, I left the box and stumbled back into real life.
“Ergh. It’s going to be cold outside, isn’t it?” Noah said, as we wound down the stairwell.
“I think so.”
As we got to the bottom, we saw a crowd had built up near the theatre entrance.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why aren’t people leaving the building?”
We inched our way through the massed bulk of people. The cold air from outside hit my face.
I looked through the windows.
“Uh-oh.”
Somehow, in the space of one ballet performance, an aggressive blizzard had hit London and there was a good couple of inches of snow everywhere. Elegantly dressed women were stepping outside and slipping over immediately in their heels.
“How the hell has it snowed so much?” I asked Noah.
He stood on his tiptoes and looked over the heads of people in front.
“I don’t know,” he replied, looking concerned. “But getting home might be an issue.”
Oh God. The trains. England had this annoying habit of grinding to a stroppy halt the moment any unforeseen weather occurred.
“Are we going to be able to get home?”
Noah pulled a face. “I don’t know.”
We started to barge through the crowd. The hold-up was being caused by people simply refusing to exit the theatre, as if the snow would magically melt just by them being angry at it. After a few strategic elbow jabs, we were out in the cold, with fat heavy snowflakes falling softly onto our heads.
“Let’s head to the Tube,” Noah said, his hand gripping me tightly to stop me sliding around in my heels. “Hopefully there will still be trains going to Middletown.”
I was slightly panicked. I didn’t really know anyone in London so there was nowhere to crash if we got stuck. I was also still quite confused. I’d only just woken up from my Noah-induced coma and the heavy unexpected snow was just too random an occurrence to process easily.
We thumped down the steps of the Tube station, hurried onto a carriage and waited impatiently for it to slither towards Victoria Station. Noah held my hand all the way, but not in an affectionate way – more as if he was treating it like a stress ball. After fifteen minutes or so we jogged up the escalators and re-emerged onto the snow-filled streets, slipping every step or so. We ran to the information board at the station and stood in front of it, both shivering.
“Look,” I said, pointing. “There’s a train to Middletown…oh…it’s cancelled.”
In fact, as I looked up at the giant screen, I realized every departure had a blinking red light next to it announcing its cancellation.
“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh indeed.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure.”
My phone went off in my bag multiple times, its vibrating urgency matching our situation. I retrieved it and saw Mum had tried to call twice while I didn’t have any signal on the Underground.
“Oh God. Mum’s worried. I’ll ring my parents and see if it’s snowing at home,” I said.
“Okay. I’ll check the National Rail app and find out what’s going on.” Noah flipped open his phone with a scowl on his face.
I stomped my feet to try and keep them warm and dialled home.
Mum answered after only two rings.
“Poppy?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Oh dear. Where are you? It’s snowing like crazy here. Please say you got home from London before it hit?” Her voice was slightly panicked but I could tell she was trying to cover it up.
“We’re stuck at the train station. The ballet only finished twenty minutes ago. We didn’t even know it’d been snowing.”
“Well they’re saying on the news that this snow was completely unpredicted, just like the storm. I don’t like it. It was only a few days ago I was out in the garden wearing short sleeves. Poppy, what are you going to do? How are you going to get home?”
“I’m not sure.”
“There must be some trains running?”
“Yes. Of course there will be.”
Just as I finished saying that I heard Noah a few feet away from me, badgering a rail worker.
“So you’re telling me there are absolutely no trains running for at least another four hours?” he said, a growl in his voice.
“Oh no.”
“What is it?” Mum asked.
“I think the trains are a no-go.”
More people had filtered into the train station, lots of them dressed for a night out too. They stood next to us, and I could see the panic form on their faces as they clocked the departures board. Noah was on the phone. I turned my attention back to Mum, who I could hear flapping.
“Oh my, Poppy. How are you going to get home?”
“I’m not sure.” My stomach started knotting. More people streamed into the station as other shows finished and they began to pick on the railway workers in bright reflective jackets, demanding more information.
“Maybe I could ring Auntie Suzie? She might be able to take you in for the night.”
I shuddered at the thought. My mum’s sister was one of the most awkward people I’d ever come across. She was a very devout Catholic and lived alone in this large spooky town house in the furthest tip of north London.
“Hmm. I’m not sure how she would feel about me bringing Noah along as well.”
Despite her worry, Mum laughed down the line.
“Yes. You’re right. It might give her an early heart attack.”
Noah was now off the phone and making hand gestures to me.
“Hang on, Mum, Noah’s trying to say something. I’ll call you back.”
I flipped my phone closed. “What?”
“All sorted,” he said, with an uncomfortable look on his face.
I didn’t understand.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“I’ve booked us a hotel room.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You’ve done what?”
“A hotel room.”
“What about getting home?”
“Well, it’s not going to happen, is it?”
“But…”
“But what?”
“Well, I don’t have any money.”
“It’s okay. I just rang my parents. They’ve charged the suite to their company account.”
I had to really shake my head this time to ensure my brain was working properly.
“Hang on. When did this hotel room become a suite?”
Noah did his casual shrug, but I could see through it. It was like he was trying to pretend everything was okay for my benefit, but he was obviously just as nervous.
“That’s always what I mean whenever I get a hotel room.”
“Of course. I forgot.”
Noah cupped my face and forced me to stare into his eyes. “Poppy? Are you okay? It’s only for the night. I just don’t see how we’re going to get back so I thought crashing in London was the only answer.”
I looked back at him, calmed a little by his gaze. “I’m…fine. It’s just, well, a bit of a shock, that’s all.”
“It’s freak weather. Again. You just have to run with it when stuff like this happens.”
I knew he was right but still felt a little dazed. And Noah seemed a little…off, too. I think he was trying to be the man – all together – but the situation was bothering him. I could tell. What about it though? I hoped he would tell me. An involuntary full-body shiver reminded me of how cold it was.
“This hotel?” I asked. “Is it nearby?”
Noah smiled, though it was strained.
“Just round the corner. Come on. Let’s go.”
And he walked me out of the train station, leaving the teeming mass of confused people wondering how they were ever going to get home.
The snow was still falling heavily as we weaved our way through the streets of the capital. My shoes were ruined and my feet soaked. Most people we encountered were still in headless-chicken mode, crunching through the wetness in evening finery with their phones clutched to their faces. I allowed myself to feel relief. We didn’t have to get home tonight. It was going to be okay. I rang Mum and explained the plan. She seemed shocked but admitted it was the wisest thing to do.
“You say his parents have booked you a suite?”
I turned my face from Noah’s and covered my mouth with my hand.
“Yeah. It’s charged to the company account.”
There was a pause as the neurotic cogs in Mum’s brain whirred.
“Does this mean we have to pay them back?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve offered but Noah refused. I don’t think booking last-minute hotel suites is such a big deal for them as it is for us.”
Sensing he was being talked about, Noah cocked his head and gave me a puzzled look.
“Gotta go, Mum.” I hung up before he could overhear anything else.
Noah was right. The hotel was so close that we arrived within minutes. I stopped outside and stared. It wasn’t just any old hotel – it had massive marble steps leading up to the glass-fronted entrance and screamed five-star.
“Couldn’t we have just stayed in a hostel?” I asked, eyeing the pretentious potted mini-trees lining the staircase. “This place seems a little…pricey.”
Noah took my hand and led me up the steps. “When are you going to realize that money isn’t really an issue for me? We may as well make the most of it.”
A little man wearing a bowler hat came and held the door open. I thanked him, feeling guilty he had to come out into the cold, but Noah strode past him, slipping a note into his hand without looking.
It was odd seeing Noah like that. Okay, I knew he came from money. He had told me. But seeing him in this place, so accustomed to a way of life you’re only comfortable with if you can afford to be, was like seeing a different person. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. Or him. And the fact he had barely spoken since we left the train station wasn’t helping.
Just the reception area of the hotel blew my mind. After the ballet, it was almost affluence overkill, and I was very aware that I didn’t know the behaviour protocol. I tried to act nonchalant as I took in the lush red carpet, marble statues and high ceilings. But my mouth kept dropping open. And as Noah checked us in at the giant gold reception desk, I found myself saying “Thank you” at least a million times.
Noah was still…weird. He wouldn’t say thank you to anyone and seemed distracted. I tried to hold his hand as we walked to the lift, but he just squeezed it then let it drop.
The lift was gold as well and I gawped as we shot up several floors. With a ping, the doors slid open onto a floor with only one door.
More gawping. “We get a whole floor?”
Noah shrugged. “It’s a suite.”
Okay. Something was definitely up.
“Of course.”
Noah slid a black credit-card thing into the lock and the doors sprung open to reveal the plushest hotel room I’d ever seen in real life, or even in a magazine. It was more a luxury apartment than a hotel room. There was a living room with a cinema-size TV screen and a remote-controlled fire, and a bathroom with a bath you could swim laps in.
I let out a yelp and ran inside to examine everything more carefully.
“Noah, there are dressing gowns!” I yelled at him. “Actual dressing gowns, like in the movies.”
No answer, but I was too excited to care.
I ran into the living room and flopped onto the sofa.
“You could actually fit twelve people on this sofa,” I yelled again in his direction. “How did they fit it through the door? Ooo, look, chocolates!”
I ripped open the black box and delved into the layers. I picked a caramel and stuffed it into my mouth. Still a tad overexcited, I ran to the giant windows and ripped back the curtains.
I hadn’t realized how high up we were. You could see the whole of London. Blobby snowflakes obscured my view slightly, but I could still see the city stretching out for miles. It looked much prettier than usual. All the grime and grey were on hold, replaced by a white-carpeted winter wonderland.
Although I was very excited, much of my enthusiasm was covering for Noah’s sudden bad mood. I wasn’t sure when it had come on, but he’d gone from perfect to weird somewhere between here and the train station. I was shivering, so thought the best thing was to leave him to stew and get myself warm.
“I’m having a bath.”
Again, no answer. So I locked myself in the bathroom.
As the water gushed out of the fat gold taps, I experimented with all the free beauty goodies on display. I poured generous amounts of Molton Brown bubble bath in and opened up all the other bottles to smell them. When the bath was ready, I shrugged off my beautiful silk dress and gratefully sank into the hot bubbly water.
It was gorgeous. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d got until I was submerged in the blissfully warm water. To my delight, pressing a button on the tap transformed the bath into a supersized jacuzzi. The pressure from the jets erased any stress I’d felt about the snow, getting home, and what was up with Noah. I even started singing “Kiss” by Prince at the top of my voice, trying to recreate the bath scene from
Pretty Woman.
I floated about until the water turned cold, and emerged transformed. I climbed into an oversized dressing gown and walked into the bedroom with my half-damp hair swirling around my shoulders.
The bedroom’s widescreen television was on and Noah was sitting on the bed watching it. Bad vibes still emanated from him and he barely registered the fact I was in the room. That was enough to make me worry, but then I saw something even worse.
Noah had constructed some elaborate barrier down the middle of the king-sized bed. He had collected all the decorative cushions off the sofa and combined them with spare pillows to create a big speed bump covered with a sheet. He was sitting on his side, intently watching the TV. It would have been less obvious if he’d drawn a line down the middle with paint.
A number of emotions ran through me. Panic. Upset. Hurt. Confusion. But anger won out. And before I had time to run through what I was going to say, I found myself running over, grabbing the remote, switching off the television and then hurling the remote at him.
“What the hell is going on?” I demanded.
Noah held up his hands to protect himself from further missiles.
“Ouch! I don’t know what you mean.”
He still wouldn’t look at me. The anger intensified.
“Noah, I am not one of those girls who will just put up with your crap and sit here smiling sweetly when you’re behaving like an arse. Of course you know what I mean.”
I pointed to the makeshift barrier.
His eyes followed my finger.
“Oh. That,” he deadpanned.
“Of course that.” My arms were flailing in the air with rage. “What the hell is it? Do I have some hideous disease or something? You’ve barely spoken to me since leaving the ballet, you’ve completely ignored me since we arrived at this hotel, and now I find you’ve created some kind of physical manifestation of an anti-Poppy force field down the bed. What’s wrong? What have I done?”
Anger gave way to sadness and my voice cracked. I realized I was dog-tired; too much had happened today. It seemed like years ago that Lizzie and I had walked to college. And now, here I was, less than twenty-four hours later, trapped in a posh hotel suite with the world outside resembling
The Day After Tomorrow
and my boyfriend behaving like a jerk. To my embarrassment, a single tear slid out of my left eye.
“Am I so repulsive that you have to create an actual barrier to keep away from me?”
Another tear fell.
Immediately Noah was at my side, his arm around me, gently shushing me. I tried to shrug him off, humiliated, but he held on strong and stroked my hair.
“Shh, Poppy. I’m sorry. It’s horrible seeing you cry.”
“Well don’t make me then.” I wiped my eyes to capture more tears.
“Do you really think I’ve made that barrier because I don’t like you?”
“I don’t know. But it’s weird. And mean. And how I am supposed to know why you do anything if you don’t talk to me?”
I sat down on the bed, too upset to notice how soft and sumptuous it was. Noah sat next to me.
“Hey,” I said. “This is my side.”
He laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
He tried to get me to look him in the eyes. “I know it’s not funny. I’ve been a prick. Let me explain.”
I looked up into his beautiful face. I knew I looked a mess. I had a tendency to look absolutely awful whenever I cried, but he’d seen it now. There wasn’t much I could do.
“Okay…Poppy…God, this is hard to explain.”
“Try.”
“Right. Of course…well…I’ve just kind of flipped out, that’s all.”
“Flipped out? Over what?”
“This is where it gets hard to explain… About us.”
A crushing sense of dread raced through me and I struggled to breathe for a moment. The tears that had been retreating quickly changed direction and began to flow freely again.
“Are you having second thoughts?” My voice quivered.
“Are you kidding? Of course not.”
Relief flooded through me and more tears drained out of my eyes. Startled by my reaction, Noah hugged me tight and whispered into my ear.
“Poppy. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s the opposite of what you think. The truth is, well, tonight has been amazing. But it’s been
too
amazing. Do you understand?”
I was too emotional to talk, so just shook my head.
“The thing is, I’ve told you before, I’ve never felt this way about a girl. I’ve never been that interested in what they were thinking or feeling, and it’s just been, you know, physical. And with you it’s different. You mean so much to me that I’m terrified I’m going to screw things up.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, much as I love you, I also massively fancy you. And I wouldn’t normally hold off taking things further. But we talked about it and, you know, decided to slow things down, and, well, I agree, I really do, and I don’t want to rush you.”
My crying had subsided enough for me to enjoy how he was struggling for the words.
“So what happened tonight then? Why have you constructed this massive barrier on the bed?”
Noah did a half-smile. “That’s the thing. By me trying not to ruin things, I’ve gone and done exactly that. Poppy, do you have any idea what you did to me at the ballet?”
I remembered the touching, the fizzle of electricity between us. “Things did get a little heated…”
“A little? Poppy. You have no idea how close I was to jumping you, right there, where everyone could see us.”
I giggled.
“Seriously. I’ve never had an urge that strong. It is possibly the most overwhelming feeling I’ve ever had. It was like a force bigger than myself. I realized I could lose self-control and possibly just lunge at you and scare you off for ever.”
I smiled and sniffed.
“Poppy, I’m serious. I managed to get a hold of myself. I figured if I could get you home everything would be okay. But then there was the bloody snow. And the thought of having to spend the night sleeping next to you, but not being able to do anything…well…I didn’t trust myself…
so I…”
“…turned into an introverted tosser and made an anti-Poppy device without explaining any of this to me?” I finished for him.
Noah laughed and held my face. “Basically yes. I’m sorry.”
I exhaled in relief.
“Are you mad at me?” He looked genuinely worried.
I nodded and then shook my head. “Yes. No. Not hugely. But don’t you ever do that to me again. The not-talking. It’s horrible and I won’t stand for it.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Never again.”
I thought again of the ballet. Those feelings were instantly recalled – and we were alone now. There was nothing and nobody here to stop us acting on our hormonal impulses.
I stretched up and kissed Noah gently on the lips. He made a small grunt and kissed me back. Then, one of us, I can’t remember who, turned the gentle kiss into a frenzied passion. I lost sense of everything. Before I knew it, Noah was on his back and I was sitting astride him. My eyes were closed in blissful delirium, my arms around his neck, and his hands moving down my side, stroking my body. I moaned into his mouth.
But then Noah pulled away, leaving my mouth empty and hanging open.
“Now can you see why I made the barrier?”
We were both breathing heavily.
“Yeah, I suppose it makes sense,” I said, still incredibly turned on.
I got off Noah and he flipped his body over the makeshift barrier.
“I think I need to stay over here a few moments.”
I pouted out my bottom lip. “Do you have to?”
“Yes, Poppy. I do.”
“But what if I change my mind about this whole taking-it-slow thing?”
Noah covered his ears with his hands. “La la la. I’m not listening.”
I reached over and removed them. Just touching him again sent electric volts screeching through every limb.