32. NOAH
Chapter 32
NOAH
I ’m finally back in the United States, home sweet home. I can’t help but wish I could go back to help before deployment is over, but since I know that’s not happening, I’ve resigned myself to the idea that I have to chill for a while. I’m still recovering from surgery after all, and I couldn’t even lift ten pounds if I wanted to.
Doctor’s orders.
Which leads me to now. I’m getting some belongings out of my storage unit to head back to Peachtree City, where Tyler is waiting for me. Tyler, my best friend. Tyler, the love of my life. Tyler, the fucking traitor.
I can’t believe he didn’t leave her. I shouldn’t be a stranger to pain inflicted by him, but this one just fucking hurts . He made me a promise, and he didn’t keep it. No matter what he has to say about it, he didn’t keep it, and right now that’s all that matters. I can’t go over there and pretend everything is okay. As of right now, nothing will be again. Because there’s no way in fucking hell I can be okay with this. No way I can just show up, the picture of forgiveness. It’s just not happening.
Tyler and I are done.
What pisses me off even more is that I have nowhere else to go. Truly nowhere, or I’d go just about anywhere else. The last thing I want to do is be with both of them under the same roof. Not when I know Scarlett is going to try to rub their relationship in my face.
Are they still together? Are they intimate still?
Those questions make everything even more painful because now that they’ve made it here, they’re not leaving my brain until I know for sure. And I know that getting those answers will be dangerous for my heart. No matter how much I try to protect it from Tyler, it’s useless. He has unfettered access to it, and I don’t know how to revoke it.
Opening the door to my storage room, I grab my suitcases with my clothes in them and put them in the bed of my truck. There’s not much I’m going to need either way, so I close the door and get in.
The road home is a straight shot from Fort Benning, and it has always been easy to pick up and go whenever I have the time to do so. I watch as the pine trees blur by and sing a country song on the radio— Burn It Down by Parker McCollum. I’m pretty bad at it—singing—but it’s a way to try to calm myself down. My hands tighten on the steering wheel, and my leg shakes as I attempt to fill my lungs with air. The drive to Peachtree City usually soothes me, but not this time. Not when I know what I’m getting myself into.
I can’t deny that I still love him. It’s not easy to get over the person who is in all of your memories growing up—literally all of them. From being in my pool to going to the zoo and even joining us for family vacations while his parents worked. There’s not one important day where he wasn’t there, not one fucking holiday left unattended. And sometimes I wish I could take it all back, take all my memories and wipe him from every single one. But then I remember his beautiful smile and the crinkle in his clear-blue eyes, and I just change my mind. Life without him would have been pretty bleak. I guess he’s the most important part of my childhood. I wouldn’t be who I am without him.
And that sucks even more.
He’s my one constant.
I finally pull up to the bar, Tyler’s , and park in the only spot available. He’s doing pretty well in this town, and I guess it doesn’t hurt that his bar is located at The Avenue. I watch as a drunk girl gets on a golf cart, and laugh when she falls right off, landing on her ass on the asphalt. People do that a lot here, ride around in their little golf carts like the entitled rich pricks they are. I was one of them once, but I’ve learned to be a little more appreciative nowadays.
Getting out of my truck, I make sure I lock it. But before I even make it inside, Tyler is already whistling at my blacked-out F-150. It’s a beauty—I switched all the chrome to matte black paint, and even the wheels are black. I spent a pretty penny on this truck since it’s the only thing I have going for me. There’s nothing else I own that I’m proud of. None of my accomplishments lie in material things.
Tyler’s strides are quick and sure, and before I can think to back up, he’s already wrapping me up in a tight hug. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, briefly pressing my nose into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t tense—but I do. I don’t want to be this way. Always wanting him, needing him, craving him.
I pull away.
“How are you?” he asks softly, looking at me from head to toe, probably worried about my injuries.
“I’m fine, Tyler,” I snap, and he swallows hard. Then in a softer tone, I say, “I’ve been healing pretty quickly. My incision is scabbed over, the stitches should come off any minute.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Then what did you mean?”
“I meant emotionally.”
I ponder his question, thinking about all my friends—my comrades. Then I think about losing him too. “I’ve been better,” I reply honestly.
“Wanna go inside and have a drink?” he asks me, eyes pleading.
“Can’t.” I shrug. “I need to take my pills when I get back to your place. Haven’t taken them since this morning since I needed to drive.”
Tyler nods. “A soda won’t kill you.”
“Ty—”
“ Please .”
I nod once. “Fine.”
We both turn towards the entrance, and he opens the door for me, ever the gentleman. There’s a burst of cold air that greets me, and I shiver from the sweat running down my spine. I’m fucking nervous, and I don’t even know why. Country music is playing, but not too loud to where you can’t hear each other. It’s the perfect volume, and as I look around, I realize Ty has this place all figured out. There are booths lining the walls, a corner with pool tables and darts, and a bar top with stools. The walls are brick and there’s football memorabilia on them. As I walk up to the bar, I notice there are pictures of our childhood behind it, and my throat constricts with emotion. Fucking hell, I did not sign up for this.
I’ve never asked him what prompted him to take over a bar, other than his dad buying it for him. When did he give up his dream of being a teacher? And why? He’s had plenty of time to get it done. Scarlett finished school a lifetime ago, and he had been working a dead-end job anyway. I want to pry, but I know I probably shouldn’t.
There’s barely any room in here from how busy it is, but he finds us two bar stools immediately as if he’s been saving them for us. And he may have been. We sit down next to each other, and he orders me a coke. He orders himself a shot of Jameson, our favorite. I take a sip of my coke as he downs the first round, and once his shot glass slams on the bar top, we look at each other. At least I really look at him.
Tyler is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, with his styled curly brown hair and tanned muscles. Big blue crystalline eyes that steal my breath away every time I look into them. He’s also taken up a liking to bodybuilding, and he’s bigger than when I saw him last.
“So what brings you here?” Ty asks me, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. “Scarlett is home.”
“I was just about to tell you I think I’m going to stay in a hotel,” I tell him softly as if the blow will be lessened by the tone in my voice. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay with y’all.”
Tyler visibly tenses, his jaw ticking. “And why the fuck not?”
“Besides the obvious fact that Scarlett hates my fucking guts?” I laugh. “How about the fact that you didn’t leave her, Tyler,” I growl.
He flinches, and suddenly I want to reach out and try to make him feel better. But I don’t. He needs to understand that he hurt me. That whatever was transpiring between us before deployment is over. “Noah—I?—”
“No excuses.”
“Why won’t you hear me out?” he asks with clear exasperation, and the urge to reach out is almost too strong to ignore. Almost. If only I wasn’t so angry. “I can explain.”
“Save it, Tyler,” I sigh. “What’s done is done.”
“But it’s not done.”
“You’re right.” I nod. “And that’s why we’re done.”
Tyler scoffs, turning toward me and grabbing the back of my neck roughly, pulling me toward him. His breath fans over the shell of my ear, and I shiver. His fingers practically burn my skin, and it tingles. “We will never be done, Noah Milner.”
Anger crawls down my spine, and my nostrils flare. I turn my face toward him until our foreheads are pressed together, and I roll mine over his. His breath is warm against my lips, and I stare right into his dilated eyes. I want to close the remaining distance between us. I want to press my lips to his and put myself out of my misery—put us both out of our misery. But I don’t. “We are. And the sooner you get over it, the sooner we can get back to being friends. I’m here for six weeks, Tyler. Don’t test me.”
“You’re angry,” he whispers, and his lips brush against mine. I’m aware we’re in public. Aware his employees are probably questioning what the hell is going on. But frankly, the pull between us is stronger than me. “I get it. But I’m not letting you walk away from me—I want you. I need you. I love you.”
My breath hitches. “A little late, love.”
I shove him away, and with his tight grip on my neck, we both almost topple off our stools. But after a quick look around, he finally lets go of me, letting air return into my lungs. I inhale deeply, welcoming the oxygen, and lick my lips. His eyes follow the movement, and my body turns hot.
“Go home, Noah,” Tyler pleads. “Go home and wait for me to clear things up. I can’t do it here, but we need to talk.”
I nod. “Only because I don’t want to spend a fortune on a hotel.” But even I can hear the lie in my voice. I’ve saved every penny for the last six months. I’m just weak for him.
“See you soon.”
“Goodbye, Tyler.”
I get off the barstool and leave, not once looking behind to see if he’s staring longingly after me. I don’t have to look back to know though. I can feel his stare branded into my back. The heat of it is palpable, and I hurry out the door.
A few minutes later, I’m parked in their driveway, contemplating my life choices. It was probably a bad idea to come here, to even ask to come here.
The porch light is on, and I get out of my truck, holding my breath. The path to the door is lined with flowers on either side, rose bushes, and I know how much she loves those. I bet Tyler planted them for her. Jealousy sinks its claws deep into my heart, but I don’t have much time to dwell on it because the front door opens and out comes—Scarlett.
My breath stutters in my lungs, my heart squeezing in my chest as Scarlett Mahone and I make eye contact. She hasn’t changed much, her face looking not one day older than when I left. Her pouty lips purse as we assess each other, and I don’t breathe as I hear her sniffle.
“Noah?” she whispers. “Is it really you?”
My heart squeezes again, and I hold my arms open for her, even though I don’t want to.
But she just stays in place.
And I don’t know what to do.
Tyler thankfully interrupts the moment, pulling up behind me, and I say, “I’m tired, can you tell Ty that I’m going to bed?”
She narrows her eyes on me. “Sure.”
“I’ll see myself to the guest room.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Scarlett steps aside and lets me in, and I realize I don’t have my pain medication or any of my belongings, but I’ll be damned if I go back and get them. I don’t want to run into Tyler, and I definitely don’t want to deal with her. There’s no way Scarlett and I can be in a room together right now. Things need to cool off. They’ve needed to cool off for five fucking years.
I make my way to the guest room, which unfortunately shares a wall with their room. Great, wonderful. I fucking hate my life and myself right now, but I just lock the door behind me and strip. The bed is cold and comfortable, so I close my eyes and ignore the pain. That is until I hear their door slam and a commotion.
“Scar—” Tyler says loudly.
“Fuck you, Tyler,” she seethes, and I can feel the anger in her voice. I feel it in my bones. “You brought him here, knowing I don’t want him here.”
“He’s our best friend!”
“No.” I can just imagine her shaking her head, pursing her lips in anger. “He’s yours.”
“Oh?” Tyler scoffs. “And when did you stop being his?”
“You know damn well when.”
“No, actually, I do not,” he says softly, yet I can hear him clear as day. I never told him about his wedding day. “Clarify for me.”
“You are not a fucking child, and I don’t need to explain to you how you fucked up. I am not responsible for your failures! I’m not responsible for lies, and I’m definitely not responsible for how you ruined our friendship. You are.”
“You’re right,” he sighs. “We can talk about this tomorrow when we’re not sharing a wall with him.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” She laughs. “That’s it? Noah gets here and you stop caring?”
“I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”
“You do that, Tyler.”
My eyes scrunch and I let out a deep sigh.
Fuck my life.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, knowing I’m probably too weak to resist leaving my room to go see him. But I won’t give him the satisfaction. Not this time.
He needs to know just how much he screwed up.