We Make Mayhem [boyxboy]

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I chose to ignore the fact that we arrived at Noah's home less than an hour after leaving Santa Monica. There were too many worries battling for priority in my head and mind-blowing, impossible things were just too much for me.

The Edison backed itself into the garage of Noah's guest house and we, in our boxers, tiptoed inside like scared children.

"I'll get you a bag for your wet clothes," Noah said on his way to the kitchen. "Be right back."

I took my clothes out of the trunk and reached into the pocket of my jeans for my phone. There it was, the little thing that had me so conflicted. I stood there, staring at its dark screen, for far too long. The WIA and I both wanted answers, but was this the right way to get them? Should I turn on this app and walk into Decker Lord's home as a covert agent?

I shoved it back into the pocket of my jeans and balled them up.

"Here's a bag," Noah said, behind me. "And I ran up to my room and got this—I think this should fit you."

He had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. He held out a plastic grocery bag and a red silk dressing gown. I laughed. "You want me to meet your parents while cosplaying as Hugh Hefner?"

"Try it on, it's really comfortable."

I did, and he was right. I may have looked kind of sleazy, but the silk felt amazing against my skin. Tying it up in front, I almost felt like a million bucks.

"Okay," I said. "This isn't bad."

"You look smashing." Noah kissed my cheek. "Let's go up and say hi."

I was as ready as I'd ever be.

Noah took my hand and we crossed the square where Noah's party had taken place, headed up to the big house. The back wall was almost made up of wide windows, but when we entered through double doors on the lower floor, I was surprised at the house's interior. I expected a lot of cool colors and stainless steel, but no—everything was warm, old-fashioned, inviting. Noah walked me through rooms, hallways, and up stairs. Rooms were burgundy, warm yellow, and full of still life paintings and ornate crown mouldings. It felt more like a historic palace than the home of a tech CEO.

Finally, Noah paused outside a door said, "You're good?"

I nodded and he pressed my hand. With that, he opened the door.

The first people I saw were his sisters, the eleven-year-old twins, sitting on the floor playing a board game. The toddler sat and watched them, rapt. Mrs. Lord sat on a chaise longue, reading a book with a blanket drawn around her shoulders.

And finally, I saw Decker Lord. He stood at the picture window with a large, complicated-looking telescope, staring intently up into the sky. It wasn't until his wife greeted us that he looked up and saw we were there.

"Noah! Riley!" Mrs. Lord stood up, shook off her blanket, and carefully drapped her book over the chaise's arm to mark her place. "How was your trip up here?"

"Fine." Noah accepted a hug from her. She came up to his chest. "A little bit of thunder coming over the Cascades, but we made it just fine."

Mrs. Lord released him and turned to me. She grinned, and it was the same grin I've seen on Noah's face a thousand times. She had the same straight, square teeth, and the same dimples and wild joy in her eyes when she smiled. Noah might have his father's height and twig-like build, but it looked like everything else came from his mother.

"Riley Axford," she said. "I've heard an awful lot about you lately."

I laughed nervously and just said, "Oof."