Island Vibes

17. working hard

Noah looked wounded, and that tugged on my heartstrings. He opened his mouth once or twice, clearly trying to think of something to say, but he kept coming up short. I stared at the paint swatches on the wall to distract myself from looking at his adorable, confused face, because I knew I'd cave if I did.

"Like I said," I sighed, "it's totally okay. You're just... too much," I said, grinning a little and continuing to avoid eye contact.

Noah blew out a small breath and pursed his lips together.

"No one's ever told me not to flirt with them before," he said. He looked almost dazed, like this had completely blindsided him. I was sure he'd never had this problem before, because he was truly charming, in a super annoyingly genuine way. I just couldn't work with that.

"Weird," I said, holding back a laugh.

Noah looked down at his coffee, then took a slow sip. When he looked back up at me, he looked almost panicked.

"I wasn't-- like, uh, bothering you, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "I mean, duh, but only because you have a girlfriend. Single Noah?" I stopped, my eyebrows raised, and allowed myself one quick fantasy where that was a reality. "I could put up with Single Noah," I laughed.

Noah chuckled, pointing a finger out at me in accusation. "Now who's flirting, huh?" His grin lit up the room again, and I breathed a little sigh of relief.

I raised a hand in surrender, shaking my head. "Last time ever, promise," I said, smirking.

"Wait, can I get a last-time-ever, too?" Noah had his nose scrunched up and his head tilted.

My smirk turned into a grin that could've rivaled his own as I shook my head.

"Come on, just a quickie?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Phrasing," I said, with a small, incredulous chuckle.

"Fine, fine," he sighed. "I was just gonna say how cute you look--"

I was laughing while I started to blurt out a long, loud string of la-la-las, cutting him off and blocking out his irritatingly sweet attempt at a compliment.

"Fine," Noah said again, even louder than my noise-making. "I'll do my best."

"That's more like it," I said encouragingly, as I re-secured my hair so we could get to work.

He had another gulp of his coffee, then put the cup on the bar to heft up one of the cans of paint.

"There's so much to do, I'm not gonna have time to flirt, anyway," he teased, shooting me a wink that made me roll my eyes.

"Noah--" I began, putting as much disappointment as possible in my tone.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding, I swear," he laughed. "That was a joke," he muttered, picking up another can. "I love my girlfriend, wouldn't change a thing, not gonna flirt with you," he said, and honestly? It was weirdly good to hear it.

I imagined my parents watching over the whole scene – their daughter was actually telling a really, really hot guy to quit flirting with her so they could work more efficiently. They would've been beyond proud of me. I almost wanted to call them and tell them right there and then, or maybe sneak a video so they could see it for themselves, or--

"Alright, since we're totally not flirting, we'd better do something, right?" Noah burst my bubble. "How else are we gonna fill the days?" He chuckled and turned to gesture out to his van. "There's a bunch of old sheets in there, we've gotta cover the floors in case we spill any paint. By we," he grinned cheekily at me, "I mean you."

"Whatever," I said, shooting him a pouty look.

"I'm gonna start taping up the skirting boards, so do you wanna grab the sheets and we'll go from there? I think I have an old set of overalls in there too, in case you're worried about getting all painty..."

I bit my bottom lip. I hadn't thought too much about that, and this was a cute outfit... I supposed I wasn't exactly trying to dress to impress anymore, so what did it matter if Noah saw me looking less than stellar? He already knew I was a smokeshow, anyway. I traipsed out to his van and dug around until I had everything, and then we got down to work.

Around four hours later, we had a quarter of the room painted. It looked awesome – and mostly that was down to Noah, while I'd been struggling to get the hang of how to keep the coverage totally even, but I'd still helped.

I heaved a tired sigh. "Okay, we should take a break," I said.

"Working hard or hardly working?" Noah teased.

"What are you, my Mom's Instagram?"

Noah laughed, chuckling out a faux-offended "How dare you?" before he dabbed his paintbrush back in the pallet and quickly flicked it at me, sending a spray of robin's egg blue in my direction.

My mouth popped open into a scandalized O.

"Noah!" I gasped, looking down at the flecks of blue that covered me.

"They're my overalls," he said, as if that justified his childish behavior, before spattering me with the paint again as I yelped, putting my roller down hurriedly back in its tray. I took a few quick steps back, away from him, trying to get out of the danger zone.

"And it's my skin," I countered, looking down at the little specks that were all over me like alien freckles.

"I think you'll be fine," he said, coming closer while I inspected myself. I blinked down at my shoes, pleased that at least they had remained pristine. I couldn't afford to lose another pair, not after the others had snapped on me after the party.

"That's not the—" Noah cut me off, a bright blue fingertip smearing across my right cheek like war paint. "Point," I finished, tersely. I hadn't even seen him wipe the paint onto his finger, so the move kind of took me aback for a second, while I processed what had happened.

Noah had his lips pressed together, trying not to crack up as he watched me figure out how to react. I felt like he wanted me to be angry, like he was enjoying seeing me get pissed off. It was hard to suppress the desire to bitch him out for the next half an hour, but I somehow managed it.

"I swear, if this stains..." I said, pretending to get all sulky. "You will have hell to pay, Flores. Hell," I emphasized, as I crossed over to where the fresh, open can of paint was. "Like, for real, what if this stains my skin?" I asked, looking at him with wide eyes, as I nudged the already-ajar lid away and then stuck my entire hand inside. The paint was thick and gloopy, and it was all I could do not to cringe.

Noah's mouth dropped open too, and he stuttered out a surprised laugh.

I lifted my entirely pale blue hand up, and let the majority of the paint quickly run off my skin and back into the can.

"Callie--" he began, stunned, amused, and a little bit terrified. "Holy shit."