Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
When Bree gets up for a break, there’s a short moment where it’s only me and Noah left on this side of the table.
And Noah leans back toward me and gets close to my ear.
I feel his breath and my cock throbs suddenly, starting to harden uncomfortably beneath my swim trunks.
If I moved to the side a few inches, I could kiss him.
I don’t care if it’s bad.
I don’t care that he’s pissing me off more with every passing minute, because he kisses me like he wants to be fucked, and that’s all I’ve been able to think about all goddamn week.
I want to taste his infuriating mouth.
I want my cock in his throat, and his eyes on mine while I give it to him.
I want to fuck him so hard it hurts.
Yet he’s standing there glaring at me, fighting with me again, acting like he doesn’t feel this pull between us, too.
You aren’t a liar, Noah.
Kiss me.
Tell me I win.
“By the way,” he tells me under his breath, “to answer your question, it’s none of your business who I’m fucking.”
I snap.
I reach for his wrist below the table, cuffing it in my hand as I move close to his ear, instead.
“Tell me the goddamn truth. Are you fucking her?”
“Get the fuck out of my life,” he says more loudly, not bothering to whisper this time.
He stands up, yanking his wrist from my grip.
I don’t want to do this.
I don’t want any of this.
For fucks sake, I was sitting there thinking about kissing him, and now something has set him off.
I stand up as well. The two girls around the fire pit are looking over, and they definitely heard what he said to me.
“You need me in your life,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice low and even. “I saved you that night. And now you want more of me. The sooner you can admit that, the sooner you can pull the rod out of your uptight ass—”
“I was never uptight before you got here. Ever. I was the life of every party.”
I narrow my eyes. “You were obliterating yourself at every party. That wasn’t your life. That was you fucking running from your life.”
He doesn’t respond, his eyes flaring wide just for a moment.
It’s as if I splashed ice water on him.
He’s frozen, then after a beat, I regret the words I chose. And then he turns away slightly, looking off into the distance.
He seems fragile, for the first time all night.
I wish I could shove the words back in my mouth, but they’re out there. I’ve never had the urge to apologize to Noah or really to most people in life, but it’s happening now, and I don’t know how to handle that.
I don’t know what to say.
So I reach up and bring my palm to the top of his back.
I bring my hand down the length of his spine, rubbing his back, trying to bring him back down to Earth.
And then I pull away.
“I need to get some air,” he says suddenly, taking two steps to the right, then backtracking and going to the left.
Roman’s walking back outside from the kitchen, and he gives Noah a confused look.
“You’re already outside,” Roman tells him. “You drinking again, Noah?”
“Haven’t had a drop,” Noah says. “I just need a minute. I’ll, uh, be around—”
He doesn’t even finish his sentence before he takes off into the house.
Roman glares at me the second Noah’s gone.
“What?” I snap at him.
“What did you do?”
I puff out a breath, turning to head back inside. “I’m doing everything you refuse to do, Roman.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“If you keep saying you can fix this shit, then fix it,” I tell him. “Noah is in danger while you’re walking around sipping drinks. Understand?”
“I am handling things. Don’t walk in here and act like you know how my life works. Or how Noah’s does, either.”
“He can’t ensure his own safety without me.”
“Leave him alone,” Roman says.
I want to clock him right in his strong fucking jaw.
Instead, I ignore him.
Stay.
In.
Control.
I walk off into the house, and when I head upstairs Noah’s door is closed.
I rinse off in the shower and change into pants and a white T-shirt, but instead of relaxing, I’m starting to feel that fucking dynamite go off inside me.
“Fuck this,” I say under my breath.
I arrive at Noah’s door and when I push it open, he’s not inside.
I look around upstairs and he’s nowhere to be found.
He isn’t downstairs, either, in the study, the kitchen, or any of the other rooms. Outside, Bree and her friends are still around, so he didn’t go off anywhere with her.
I call him a couple of times, but he doesn’t pick up.
In the entryway, I confirm that the spot where he keeps his running shoes is empty.
No fucking shot he went for a run at midnight.