Songs for this chapter are:

Never Knock- Kevin Garrett

Pushing Away- Kevin Garrett

In The Night- The Weeknd

(if you listen to the songs of this chapter, they go along with it )

....

After a few minutes of silence, music begins to plays from the kitchen and I know the song. I sit up, not ready to get out of bed, but impressed that Nora knows this song. It's one of my favorites.

Ironically, the lyrics speak to me more now than ever before. I hear the humming of Nora's voice in my kitchen and imagine her moving her body to the slow beat, singing the words, and moving effortlessly around my kitchen.

I lay back on the bed again, this time with my back against the metal headboard. This bed took hours to put together and it still creaks when I move. Tessa and I spent the entire afternoon at Ikea and it was absolute hell. It was crowded and way too big.

As we tried to follow the map Tessa kept going on about a red ladle in some book she's reading about a murderous stalker guy who she, for some weird reason, is in love with. She literally told me that Beck (the main woman aka his pray) "doesn't deserve him". I rolled my eyes and told her she needs to get out more, but when I googled the book, a lot of people seemed to have the same reaction. It's fascinating the way a narrator can have you questioning what you think you know about the world.

No matter how great the book was, or how many red ladles Ikea sells because of it, I would be perfectly fine if I never go there again. They give you small pencils to write the numbers down of the items you want and while we were there, we wanted everything. Then we got home and had boxes that were hell to carry upstairs and even worse to put together. To top it off, we were missing a bundle of screws and I waited on hold with customer service for forty minutes before I hung up and decided to go to the hardware store down the street.

Nora hums louder and I grab my laptop from the desk and switch the light on. I need to keep myself occupied and distracted. I really shouldn't go out there and I feel all rebellious because the more I focus on why I shouldn't, the more I want to. Being friends with Nora is fine and dandy. We can be friendly when Tessa is around, but there's something about Nora that screams danger, and I'm already in a mess as it is. I know we would never date, or anything close to it, but if she kissed me again, or if I keep thinking about her kissing me, things will get awkward for Tessa.

I press the power button on my laptop and try to remember my password. I keep having to change it because I can't remember it and the more times I change it, the more difficult Apple makes me make it. For example, the first password was LANDON123 and the last one I can remember was LaNdON123123!@# . I thought I saved it in my phone somewhere, but I don't remember that either.

Finally, after four tries, I get in. My research paper for U.S History 201 is still on the screen, even though I finished it. I have three windows open, my iTunes, my paper, and Yelp. Since I moved to Brooklyn I use Yelp nearly everyday. Except when I did zero research on the bar Nora was taking me to to meet her friends. It feels so long ago now, even though it hasn't been long at all.

It's hard to believe that Dakota left just about thirty minutes ago. I feel like it's been hours, days even. I'm going to wait until tomorrow to call her. I know that when she needs space, I should give it to her.

The next song plays in the kitchen and it's Kevin Garrett again. He's singing about being pushed away and feeling alone, and I've loved him since I heard his cover of Skinny Love, but I've never related so much to him before now. Come to think of it, nearly every song on his EP is extremely close to what I'm going through right now with Dakota.

Nora's voice is louder now as she sings along. Could it really be such a bad thing for me to go out there and just make casual conversation?

It's not like we dated or anything close to it, and I'm still, whatever this is with Dakota, so it's not like she's going to kiss me or anything. Without thinking, my fingers raise to my lips and I shove my laptop away. I'm a grown man, I can surely handle being friends with someone I'm attracted to. It happens all the time in movies.  

Except they usually end up together in the end. I really should stop comparing movies to reality and porn to actual real life sex. They are both so far fetched from life, especially my life. This is the second time I've thought about porn today. I swear I'm not as obsessed with it as it seems. I've actually watched it less than most guys my age, I'm sure.

I really need to stop rambling inside my head and go out there and socialize.

I should put a shirt on first, right?

Definitely.

I open my closet and grab the first sweatshirt I see. It's a blue and green and the logo for the Seahawks is in a big circle on my chest. The Seahawks remind of when Hardin and I went to a Thunderbirds game last year and he nearly got in a fight over some guy being a jerk to me. I don't usually condone violence, but that guy was a douche.

Now that I'm dressed, I open the door and walk to the kitchen. It's a short walk and Nora's still singing when I enter the room. Her back is to me and she's standing over the stove, turning the dial. She's taken off her long sleeved work shirt and is now wearing a black tank top.

The straps of her white bra are visible and she has a tattoo on the top of her back, just above her bra line. A dandelion, with half of the seeds detached and scattered across her back, as if someone had made a wish and blown on it. I'm not surprised that she has a tattoo, her body seems to be made for it somehow.

I lean against the doorway and watch her, waiting for her to notice me. She grabs a bottle of olive oil and pours some into the sauté pan on the burner. Her hips move slowly and her voice is softer now, like both cooking and singing this song are second nature.

I watch as she takes the chopped broccoli and pours it into the sizzling pan. She turns the heat down when it sizzles a little too much and she grabs a spatula from the utensil holder on the counter and stirs. I feel creepy, like the guy in Tessa's book, as I watch her. She hasn't even caught on that I'm here watching her. Is she distracted by her own thoughts? Or does she just zone out when she's cooking? These are simple things I will never know about this mystery woman.

The song changes again and now it's The Weeknd. I don't know if I can stand here and watch her dance to him, his songs are already sexual enough, her hips are so curvy and her pants are so tight. I should take my ass back to my room and go to bed.

Yet, thirty seconds later, I'm still watching. She stirs the broccoli, pouring some sort of sauce on it, and then turns around, spotting me.

She doesn't act surprised or embarrassed at all when she sees me lingering in the doorway. Her lips turn up into a smile and she waves the spatula at me for me to come closer. The oven beeps and she sings her way to it. I don't say anything, I just walk over and sit down at the kitchen table. The kitchen is small, the table is in the corner, but still only a few feet away from the stove and fridge.

Nora grabs a sunflower printed potholder from the counter and opens the oven. She pulls out a cake and sits it on the empty side of the stove. She's definitely good at multitasking. I can barely bake a boxed cake and breath at the same time, let alone make a cake from scratch and cook something on the stove simultaneously.

"Tessa just text me. The twenty-top just got their food. She's going to be a while," Nora tells me.

I glance at her and nod, trying desperately to ignore the way her breasts spill out the tank top she's wearing. Would it be rude to ask her to put her other shirt back on?

Yes, I'm positive that it would be.

"That sucks." I stop staring at her boobs. "How's she liking it there? She tells me that she likes it, but you know she would never complain." I keep the conversation neutral. Unrelated to any part of her body. No matter how sexy it may be.

Nora grabs a fork and sticks it into one of the corners of the cake. She tosses it into the sink and turns to me. "She says she likes it and now that Mr. Blond Doctor is there, I'm sure she will like it even more."

I glance at her, then the wall, then back at her.

"Hmm." I don't know what to say.

I don't know how much Nora knows about Tessa and Hardin's breakup and I don't want to overshare. It's not my place.

"He's cute. Tessa says you met him before too. He's cute, right?"

Is he attractive? I don't even remember what he looks like.

"Oh come on. Please don't tell me you're one of those guys who's too insecure of your own masculinity to say another man is attractive," Nora rolls her eyes.

I laugh. "No, I'm not. I just don't remember what he looks like."

She smiles. "Good. I didn't peg you as the type. He's hot though, take my word for it."

He wasn't that hot. All I remember is blond hair. I'm sure he's not that hot.

"Sure." I shrug my shoulders.

Nora lifts the pan and pours the steaming broccoli onto a plate.

"Look, I know Hardin is your brother and all," she begins. "And I also know that Tessa is still madly in love with him, but I don't think her being out in the dating world is such a bad thing. She isn't ready now, but as her friend, and completely biased and loyal to her, I want her to be happy."

I did not expect the conversation to go this way. "I've tried to fix a guy before and..." she doesn't finish her sentence. Her voice catches like she caught herself saying something she shouldn't.

"You're entitled to your completely biased opinion," I smile at her to ease the discomfort of whatever it is going on in her mind. "Even if it's wrong."

She laughs at this and walks over to sit next to me at the table.

"What's he like, this Hardin guy?"

"You've met him, haven't you?" I have to think back to a few months ago. Yeah, he met her once or twice, I think. To my knowledge they never spoke directly, but they definitely crossed paths. I think I remember him calling her the wrong name.

"Yes. I've met him, but what's he really like? Is this one of those situations where she's better off without him and as her friend, I should give her a push in the right direction, or do they actually have a shot at getting their shit together and being together?"

Nora speaks quickly, like this is important to her. Like Tessa's well being is important to her. I like that.

"It's complicated," I pick at the paint chipping on the table. Ikea fails, once again.

"But as her best friend and his step-brother, I try to stay as neutral as possible. I care about them both and if I ever thought it was a waste of either of their time, I would tell them. But I honestly don't. I truly believe they will be fine. Somehow. And if they're not, well, my whole family is screwed because we all love both of them."

Nora stares at me, seeming to examine every inch of my face. "Do you always say exactly how you feel?"

Her question surprises me and she lifts both of her elbows onto the table and rests her chin in her hands.

I shrug. "I try to."

Except that I can't stop thinking about how beautiful you are.

"But sometimes, less is more."

"I thought that rule only applied to plastic surgery and douche capes." Nora challenges.

                        "What the heck is a douche cape?" I must know the answer to this.

            Nora grins, obviously happy to instill her knowledge of whatever a douche cape is, onto me.

"You know those shirts that men where that are covered in rhinestones and big crosses? The ones that are always too tight and the men wearing them are always too greasy and look like they just shot up steroids in the bathroom?"

                        I don't even try to stop my laughter. "Now I've heard it all."

                        She tilts her head and lifts her hand up. Her index finger touches the tip of my nose and she giggles. What an odd but adorable gesture. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

                        And I do. Thank god I've never worn one, but I know exactly the kind of shirt she's talking about. Half of the guys at my high school wore them. Her description was spot on and it makes me laugh harder.

            "I do." I admit. She smiles again and when she closes her mouth, her lips look like a heart, full and plump, and pink.

            "Do you want to help me decorate the cake? I made it for your friend downstairs. Everyone should have a birthday cake on their birthday." Nora says, kindness dripping from her words like honey.

            "When's your birthday?" I don't know why I just asked that. I love that she would make a cake for Ellen, even though she spent her entire day at work baking and having a shitty day.

            "Next week, actually. But, if we are going to be friends, you have to promise me something." Her voice is lower now, serious even.

            "Okay?"

            "You won't ever, ever do anything for me for my birthday."

            What a weird promise to make.

            "Um, okay?"

            She shifts in the chair and stands up. "I mean it. No cards, no cakes, no flowers. Deal?"

            Her eyes are dark and her lips are pulled tight.

"Deal."

I oblige and she nods, letting me know she's happy with my agreement.

            I don't know why she's requesting this, or if she's joking or not, but I don't know her well enough to pry. If the day comes when we're close enough for her to tell me, I'll gladly listen but I get the feeling that there are very few people that know anything about this woman.

                        "So, what color do you think we should go with?" Nora climbs out of the chair and goes to the furthest cabinet lining the wall.

                        I've never even opened that cabinet before, maybe that's why I didn't know it was full of food.

            Nora pulls out a bag of powdered sugar and a little box with a rainbow on it. Food coloring maybe? My thoughts are confirmed when she opens the box and pulls out four little bottles with white lids. Red, yellow, green, and blue.

            "Can you grab a stick of butter and the milk from the fridge?" Nora asks. Her hands tear at the bag of powered sugar and she opens the drawer in front of her. She pulls out measuring cups and I find it funny that I live here and didn't even know half of this stuff was in here.

            "Yes, ma'am." I tell her and she turns around, her lips forming a devilish smile and I'm too innocent for her to be looking at me like this.

(Author's note: I'm updating twice tomorrow! Soo... I was in Los Angeles this weekend and I'm exicted to share that I'll be moving there in July. This is a dream come true for me and I can't believe that I have such an amazing career that takes me down these unexpected (AND FREAKING AMAZING) paths. Thank you thank you thank you for making my life what it is<3 )