Chapter Twenty-Seven

KATE

“Noah, you need to stop.”

We’ve only driven out the gate and a few houses down before I manage to get him to stop, so I can take the wheel.

A whirlwind of emotions blurs my rational thoughts, still reeling at the sight of Morgan with her family—her husband and son.

His eyes are the first to react, stunned with a hurt glaze while he momentarily pieces the puzzle inside his head. My eyes are immediately drawn to his fists curled up against his side, and almost like I throw myself into battle mode, I do my best to prepare myself for a physical altercation.

The tension of his muscles is evident, and his inability to think clearly soon follows.

He’s in a world of pain.

And I have no choice but to comfort him as he has done for me.

His anger becomes an explosion of rage, but I don’t have a death wish. Drunk Noah behind the wheel isn’t how I want our lives to end.

With my hands firmly on the wheel, at least controlling our lives for just this moment, I ask him where he wants to go. He refuses to go home, needing to let off steam and not wanting Charlie all up in his business. So, we settle for a bar not too far from the strip. Maybe, with more alcohol in him, he will pass out rather than go on some sort of angered spree.

But like the idiot I am, I began to drink—subconsciously trying to do the same. Forget certain feelings because they aren’t worthy of holding my attention anymore.After my second drink, I decide to stop. One of us needs to be responsible, and it sure isn’t going to be Noah.

“I don’t need to do anything…”he slurs, dipping his hand into the peanut bowl and eating the urine infested nuts. “Oh, these taste crunchy with a slight tang.”

I motion for the bartender to stop serving us, and he happily obliges, warning me several times to calm Noah down or my ass will be on the pavement. Fucking wanker.

“She’s fucking married, Kate… and with a kid,” he shouts for the millionth time.

“I know, Noah. I was there.”

“Married with a kid,” he repeats, running his hands through his hair as he closes his eyes. “It makes sense, all of it. I’m so dumb. I was too caught up to see what was really going on. I’m just some secret affair to her.”

“I don’t think it’s just that, Noah. Maybe there’s more—”

“Wait, you’re defending her?” He turns his head swiftly, eyes blazing at me.

“No,” I say, raising my hands in frustration. “I’m not defending her, but maybe there’s something missing here. She doesn’t strike me as someone who would have an affair and jeopardize her family.”

“Yeah, and you don’t strike me as someone who enjoys lesbian anal fisting,” he says, monotone.

My mouth gapes open, and I quickly try to cover it up. “What makes you think that?”

“I accidentally saw it on your phone when my battery died yesterday. I needed to check the Lakers score.”

I cough, beet red, unable to speak clearly. “It was for research purposes.”

“That’s what they all say. I’m not judging you. If you want to get fisted in your ass by another girl, then so be it. And, hey…” he says with a devilish smile, “… I’m free now, so I’ll book courtside tickets.”

“Ha-ha,” I respond sarcastically. “Stop saying ‘fisted.’ It’s weird. Besides, it stemmed from a conversation with Eric.”

“Let’s go home,” I say, defeated, wondering how I can drag him to the car.

“Only if you’ll fuck me.”

From the moment Noah and I met, we had this connection. We grooved so effortlessly, making it comfortable for us to be ourselves. We gave it just as hard as we received it. But somewhere over the last two weeks, something has shifted between us.

There was a moment, beside me in my bed, when this line we both agreed needed to stay between us, suddenly obscured.

I saw him differently.

And craved him immensely.

I blame my insecurities and a broken heart for latching onto what I thought was more. So, I pulled away in the best interests for both of us. It’s obvious to see Noah has developed strong feelings for Morgan, scared by his own journey into uncharted territory.

As for me, I have a lot of emotional baggage to work through and started the recovery process once again to piece myself back together.

But, Noah’s actions and words question everything between us.

We drive silently to Charlie’s house. I expect him to pass out on the ride, but the alcohol almost works in reverse. His eyes are wide, too alert for someone who drank so much.

When I pull into the driveway, I turn off the engine. It’s way past midnight, on the brink of dawn. I have to be on a plane to Napa in a few hours and freshly attired to meet some business associates.

Noah shuffles beside me. “I meant what I said.”

I shut him down, refusing to do this. “No.”

“C’mon, I just need… you know—”

“You want a rebound. Someone, to take your mind off her?”

“Promise I’ll get hard this time. Look…” he place’s my hand on his cock, and true to his word, he’s rock hard. “See?”

I remove my hand, exiting the car, and walking to the passenger side to open his door. Instead of getting out, he twists his body, sliding his hand up the side of my ribcage, whispering, “Please, Kate, let me fuck you. I promise you’ll forget about him, too.”

The weight of his touch is sending mixed messages throughout my body. I crave the touch of a man, a man who will give me what I need. Yet Noah will only half satisfy me. The physical connection will be amazing, but his mind will be elsewhere.

Certainly, not on me.

Definitely on Morgan.

With a delayed response, giving him false hope, I bow my head, trying to control the anger swelling within me.

“Noah, I don’t care if you’re drunk, okay? You and I are not each other’s rebounds,” I tell him as if I splashed cold water all over his face.

“Kate, I—”

“What Noah? You love her,” I blurt out even though it hurts somewhat. “You’re hurting because you love her.”

“I’m not hurting because I love her, okay?” he shouts, removing his hands from me. “I’m hurting because she lied. I’m hurting because I’ve been following this feeling, but maybe it’s wrong? Maybe the person has been there all along…”

I shake my head, distancing myself from him. How dare he throw something like that at me, staring at me as if we are anything else.

“Kate, please.”

“Please, what, Noah?” I lift my gaze to meet his. He has gotten out of the car, his tall stature standing in front of me. “We don’t do this, you and me. We do not use each other whenever it’s convenient.”

“I’m not using you, Kate,” he preaches, an odd tone escaping him. “I’m just saying—”

“No, Noah. There’s nothing left to say,” I plead, desperate to end this right here. “You need to sober up.”

“You and I…” he continues, “… we are—”

“Friends,” I finish, ignoring the hurt festering inside. “We’ll always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

And just like that, I’ve shut down anything between us.

He loves her.

Not me.

Noah may not have realized it just yet, but I was never supposed to the woman he fell for. He’s confused, plain and simple. My job is to be his friend, help him heal from the pain of a broken heart.

Nothing more, and of course, nothing less.