Chapter Six

Fiona

I wake up with a knot in my stomach, the memory of last night hitting me all at once. Noah. The break room. The kiss that turned into something so much more. My face flushes as I sit up in bed, staring at the ceiling like maybe if I don't move, I won't have to deal with what happened.

I should regret it. Any sane girl would, right? I mean, I'm twenty-one years old, and I let some gruff, older biker be my first real experience. My first kiss, my first…

A blush rushes up my neck as I think about his mouth on me and the way his hands felt on my body. I did all of that with him and in the back of a dingy break room, no less. Real classy, Fiona . But as much as I try to convince myself I feel ashamed or embarrassed, I just don't.

Instead, there's this electric thrill running through me, a feeling like I've finally done something bold, something exciting. For the first time since my mom got sick and everything went to shit, I feel alive. Free.

I promised her, didn't I? I told her before she passed that I'd live. That I wouldn't just waste away in this small town, becoming another nameless face who never did anything but punch a clock and go home to an empty house. Mom had big dreams for me, and when she knew her time was running out, she made me swear I'd follow mine too.

Now, I doubt getting eaten out by a stranger in the back of a motel was exactly what she had in mind when she said, "Live a little."

Still, something about Noah makes me feel more than I've ever felt before. It's not just the thrill of being with someone so different from the guys around here—it's the way he looks at me, like he sees me. Really sees me. And for someone who's spent the last few years hiding, trying to keep her head down while the world moved on, that feeling is addictive.

But here's the thing. Noah said his bike's only down for a week. That's it. A week. So that means I've got, what? A few more days of his company, if I'm lucky? Then he'll be gone, back on the road, leaving me behind like he probably leaves everyone behind. And I'll just be another memory, another stop along the way for him.

I pull the covers up over my head, groaning into the pillow. This is so stupid. I'm getting way too attached, way too fast. I barely know him, and I'm already falling for him. Hard.

The thought makes my chest tighten, and before I know it, I'm reaching for my phone. I can't go into work today. I need a break, some time to think. Maybe if I take a step back, put some distance between me and Noah, I can figure out what the hell I'm doing.

I text my boss, telling him I'm calling out sick. It's not entirely a lie—I feel sick, just not the kind that has anything to do with a fever. More like a heartache waiting to happen.

I sit there for a few minutes, staring at the message, wondering if it'll actually help. Maybe it's better if I just don't see him today. Maybe that'll make things easier.

But I already know that's a lie. Not seeing him today is going to make me miss him more, not less.

Before I can wallow in my own thoughts for too long, my phone buzzes. It's Jeannie, my best friend since forever. She's the only person in town who knows me as more than "the girl whose mom died." And thank God for that, because I couldn't take any more pity stares or awkward conversations about "how I'm holding up."

Jeannie: Bar tonight? I'll pick you up at 8. Don't even think about saying no.

I almost do say no. I'm not in the mood for crowds or loud music or anything, really. But then again, maybe getting out will be good for me. Maybe a few drinks will help me forget about Noah and how much I'm already dreading him leaving.

Fiona: Fine. But you're buying the first round.

Jeannie: Deal. And wear something hot. We're not wallflowers tonight.

I roll my eyes but smile. Jeannie always knows how to pull me out of a funk, even when I don't want to be pulled. Maybe tonight's exactly what I need.

After I text Jeannie back, I set my phone down, staring at it like maybe it'll give me some kind of answer, some kind of clue about what I'm supposed to do next. But of course, it doesn't. It just sits there, silent and useless, while my brain spins a hundred miles an hour.

Climbing out of bed, I make my way downstairs. I look around my tiny house. The house I grew up in. The house my mom died in. The house I wish I could sell off and leave behind with all of the painful memories it holds.

This place isn't much, but for now, it's mine, and right now, it's a mess. Dishes piled up in the sink, laundry spilling out of the basket in the corner, and dust collecting on just about every surface.

Perfect. Something to keep my hands busy, something to keep me from thinking about him.

I grab a sponge and start scrubbing the kitchen counter, putting all my energy into making it spotless. I scrub and wipe and rinse, but every time I get into a rhythm, Noah pops back into my head. His hands, his mouth, the way he made me feel in that break room. It's like no matter how hard I try to push him out of my mind, he's right there, front and center.

I mutter under my breath, "You're not thinking about him, Fiona. You're cleaning. That's it."

But it's a lie. I'm definitely thinking about him. All damn day, I've been thinking about him.

I move on to the living room, picking up random clutter and dusting off the shelves. Each motion is mechanical, but my mind is still stuck on Noah. The way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. The way he touched me, like he knew exactly what I needed without me even saying a word.

God,, it's pathetic how much I'm hooked on him after just one night. I barely know the guy, but I can't stop myself from replaying every second we spent together.

And then, of course, there's the little voice in the back of my head reminding me that he's only here for a few more days. That as soon as his bike's fixed, he'll be gone. Back on the road. And I'll just be—what? Another girl in another town? Just someone he hooked up with to pass the time?

I throw a pile of laundry onto the couch and collapse next to it, groaning into a pillow. This is stupid. I'm being stupid. I knew going into this that it wasn't going to be anything serious. I'm just some small-town girl, and Noah's…well, Noah's something else entirely. He's free in a way I've never been.

But damn it, I can't help how I feel.

I spend the rest of the day bouncing between cleaning and thinking about Noah, and every time I catch myself daydreaming, I force myself to focus on whatever task's in front of me. Cleaning the bathroom, sweeping the floors, folding laundry—it doesn't matter. As long as it keeps my hands busy, I figure maybe, just maybe, it'll keep my heart in check, too.

By the time 8 PM rolls around, my house is spotless, and I'm standing in front of the mirror, staring at myself and wondering why the hell I'm getting so dressed up for a night out. I mean, it's just Jeannie and me hitting the bar. I don't need to look good. But here I am, fussing with my hair, debating whether I should put on more makeup, wondering if Noah's going to somehow run into me while we're out.

Because if I'm being honest with myself, I'm kind of hoping he will.

I shake my head at my reflection. "Get a grip, Fiona. You're just going to the bar with your friend. That's it."

But deep down, I know that's not it. Deep down, I know I'm dressing up because I want to feel good. I want to feel like the woman Noah made me feel like last night. And if I can't have him tonight, at least I can pretend for a few hours that I'm not just some ordinary girl in a nothing town.

I throw on my favorite jeans and a low-cut top, the one that makes me feel a little braver than I actually am, and I swipe on a final layer of lipstick. It's not much, but it'll do.

By the time Jeannie picks me up, I've managed to talk myself out of the worst of my bad mood. I'm wearing my tightest jeans and a low-cut top, and I even bothered to do my hair for once. If I'm going to be miserable, I might as well look good doing it.

When we get to the bar, it's already packed. It's one of those places where everyone knows everyone, and the minute I step inside, I feel like half the town's eyes are on me. That's the downside of growing up in a small place like Cherrywood Village—everyone knows your business, whether you want them to or not.

But tonight, I don't care. I'm here to forget about all that. I follow Jeannie to the bar, and she orders us two shots of tequila to start. We clink glasses, and I throw mine back, wincing as the alcohol burns its way down.

"Now we're talking," Jeannie says, grinning at me. "Let's find us some trouble."

As the drinks start flowing, I can't help but spill my guts to Jeannie and by the time we're on our third round, I've told her everything about Noah. Wasn't I supposed to be pretending not to think about him?

We're about halfway through our fourth drink when I spot them—Joy Marcer and newlywed Erica Marcer, the talks of the town lately. Joy's dad is the head firefighter, now married to Erica, who is well a bit of a mystery. She left Cherrywood Village when we were teenagers, and no one really heard from her again until she showed back up a year or two ago. They've both been the top of the gossip considering their my age and both now in relationships with men way older than them. It doesn't help that both Theo and Steven were prime real estate for the women in our town.

Jeannie sees them too and gives me a nudge. "Hey, look who it is. The Marcer girls. Let's go say hi."

I hesitate for a second, but before I can say anything, Jeannie's already making her way over to them. I follow her, because what the hell else am I going to do?

"Fiona! Jeannie!" Joy says, grinning when she sees us. "Come join us! We're celebrating."

Erica gives me a polite smile, but it's clear she's more reserved than her new sister-in-law. "Yeah, come have a drink with us. We're celebrating my first week as a married woman," she says, lifting her glass.

Well, I wasn't planning on getting involved in someone else's celebration, but hey, it's a small town, and there's no escaping anyone here. Might as well make the best of it.

Jeannie and I squeeze into their booth, and pretty soon, we're all clinking glasses and toasting to Erica's new life as a married woman. The drinks keep coming, and before long, I'm feeling more relaxed than I have in days.

"So," Joy says, leaning in closer after we've all had a few rounds. "Have you guys heard about the sexy new biker in town? Apparently, everyone's talking about him."

My stomach flips at the mention of Noah. I don't know if I want to join in this conversation or run from it.

Jeannie smirks at me. "Oh, Fiona knows all about him."

I shoot her a warning look, but it's too late. Erica and Joy both perk up, their eyes widening.

"Wait, you hooked up with him?" Joy asks, her voice full of disbelief and maybe a little admiration. "Seriously?"

I shrug, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "It wasn't like that. We just, uh, hung out."

"And by hung out, you mean…?" Erica raises an eyebrow.

I groan, covering my face with my hands. "Fine. We hooked up. Sort of. But it's not going anywhere, alright? He's older, and he's only in town for a few more days. It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Jeannie scoffs. "You've been moping about him all day."

"I have not!"

"Yes, you have," she insists, laughing. "You're falling for him, admit it."

"I'm not falling for him," I protest, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.

Erica and Joy exchange a look, and then Joy leans in, her voice soft but serious. "Listen, Fiona, I get it. The age gap thing can freak you out. But trust me, it doesn't have to be a deal-breaker. Steven and I have an age gap and I love it."

"Same here," Erica adds. "Theo and I have an age gap, and it's honestly been one of the best parts of our relationship. We're on the same page about so much more than guys my age ever were."

I stare at them, trying to process what they're saying. Could it really work? Or am I just setting myself up for heartbreak?

"I don't know," I mumble. "I mean, he's got this whole life on the road. I'm just some girl he met in a motel."

"Then talk to him," Jeannie says, like it's the simplest thing in the world. "Find out what he actually wants. You're overthinking it."

Maybe she's right. Maybe I am overthinking it. Or maybe I'm just too scared to let myself hope for something more.

Before I can spiral any further, I realize how late it's getting. And I'm definitely too drunk to drive home. I can't possibly call out two days in a row or my boss will have my ass. Plus, I don't want to waste another day of my time with Noah.

"Oh my gosh, I need to go home but there's no way I can drive."

Joy pulls out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. "No worries," she says, grinning. "I just texted my dad and Steven to come pick us up. They'll give you a ride."

When they arrive, Theo greets his daughter with a warm hug before pulling his new bride into a kiss so deep I blush and turn my head.

Steven gives me a small nod before offering me a ride home. "I'll grab your car for you tomorrow," he says to Jeannie, his voice low and steady.

I mumble a thank you for the ride, sliding into the passenger seat of his truck, my mind a blur of thoughts about Noah and everything that's happened. By the time I stumble into my bed later that night, I can't help but wonder if I'm making the right choice letting myself get so wrapped up in him.

Am I just setting myself up for heartbreak, or could there actually be something real between us?

As I drift off to sleep, I can't help but hope it's the latter.