28. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Noah
" M an, that video was hawt ," Chuck Lawson, who I had gone to high school with, announced to the restroom at large.
"No kidding," his friend, whose name I couldn't remember, guffawed. "If I called my wife a slut, she'd knee me in the nuts."
"And you got her to call herself a whore…and her tits…those were—"
"Shut the fuck up," I said tightly. "That was a private video leaked by a bitch with the same sense of decency as you. My sex life is not up for discussion, especially in front of me and mine. So, I suggest you quietly walk the fuck out of here before I break your jaw."
Chuck was a linebacker in high school before he scraped himself off the bottom of the class and joined his father's advertising firm as head of business development. He wasn't the quickest horse in the race because, if he had been, he'd have let his friend take him out of the restroom with him.
Instead, he snarled at me. "Fuck you, Carter. I can say whatever I want, wherever I feel like it. It's my first fucking amendment right."
"Actually, it isn't. This is a private establishment and not the fucking Federal government, you dipshit."
His friend dragged him out. I followed and I waved a hand at the floor manager of the restaurant and pointed to Chuck and Dumber.
"Sir, we would like to request you to leave the restaurant," the manager said.
"What the fuck?" Chuck blasted.
"I own this restaurant, fuckface, and I don't want to serve you. Ricardo, make sure the staff know they're not welcome here again."
"Our wives are with us," Chuck's friend protested.
"We'll escort them out as well," the floor manager said helpfully.
As Chuck and Co. blubbered, I went back to our table.
Dinner was surprisingly relaxed. Usually, it was just Stella and me—and we had enough sexual energy between us to light up Savannah—so it was almost calming to have Royal and Neveah bantering.
At one time, I thought Royal was interested in my sister sexually, but I knew better now. They were friends—close friends. He knew more about Neveah than I did—and he knew more about me than my sister did. But sometimes I wondered.
"Why is Lawson's wife trying to kill you with her eyes?" Royal wondered.
"I kicked them out of the restaurant," I said. When all three of my companions looked at me expectantly, I shrugged and explained, "I can't stand the asshole."
"He said something to piss you off, didn't he?" Neveah probed.
"Doesn't change his asshole status."
I put an arm around Stella. We were in a booth, and she and I were sitting next to each other. I liked being close like this. The way she smiled and talked, it was like the old Stella was back, the one who looked at me with adoring eyes.
Stella stilled for an instant, and then, as if making a decision, didn't push my arm away. Was it shitty of me to take advantage of being out in public to touch her like this? Yes . Was I going to stop? Hell, no .
I had a few weeks to convince Stella to stay in Savannah, stay at Savannah Lace, stay in her house, and stay with me. I would use every advantage at my disposal to make her see that, despite how we began, we didn't have to end.
"What did he say?" Stella challenged me.
"He said you have grade-A tits," I replied huskily. That's not exactly what he said, but that was what I had called said about them.
"Baby, these are A-grade tits." I suckled her nipples, squeezing, pulling, biting. Fuck, she was so soft and responsive.
"Noah, harder, suck me harder."
She remembered it, too, because her eyes sparkled with arousal and memory.
"Well, in his defense, Stella's tits do look good," Neveah joked, "and I'd know. I've seen more tits than you both put together."
"I doubt it," Royal teased.
"We women go to gyms where it's tits and ass galore," Neveah stated smugly. "We know all about tits. Stella, yours are spectacular."
"Thank you, Neveah. Your breasts also look very nice, albeit I would have to see them up close and personal. Maybe we could—"
"Anyone but my sister," I groaned. "You do that with anyone but my sister, for pity's sake."
Stella laughed then, and my heart stopped. She could make fun of me all she wanted if it made her sound like she just did.
"That was a nice evening," she told me that night after we came home. Neveah went to bed, Royal went to his place, and Stella and I sat out in her garden under the moonlight, with glasses of vintage port.
"Thank you for coming along."
We were in the small gazebo that looked like it had been plucked out of a fairytale. A mosquito coil was burning around us to protect us from the bloodsuckers, the breeze was mild, and the woman I was in love with was sitting next to me.
"I like Neveah."
"She likes you, too." I drank some port and leaned closer to her on the small bench. "Stella, what would it take for you to give us a chance?"
She jerked at the question and some of her drink spilled on the floor of the gazebo. "What? Why?"
I grinned. "Can you give us a chance because I love you?"
"What does giving a chance mean, Noah?" she asked blandly, her voice devoid of the contentment that was just there. Gone again because of my stupid question.
"Date me."
She was silent for a long time, and I wondered if she'd even heard me, but I didn't want to push her or make her sadder. Living with her had taught me that the new Stella wasn't really angry, she was hurt and sad. She was alone and lonely.
"You don't love me," she whispered. And I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or herself.
"Baby, I know how I feel."
"Love is not…love shouldn't hurt."
"Come on, baby, you know that's not true. Love hurts because we care too much. You wouldn't have given a flying fuck that your father was humiliated by that sick video if you weren't in love with me. It would've hurt your ego but not your heart."
"For an asshole, you're pretty insightful," she mocked, and then let out a deep breath. "I'm not that same woman—so the Stella you were in love with is not me."
"Give me a chance to show you that I love all of you, just the way you are." Her skin glowed in the moonlight. I couldn't resist it, so I kissed her lips. "I fell in love with you. I just didn't know it, and definitely didn't understand it. I do now. I know you love me. I know I hurt you. But I'm not that man anymore."
"And how have you changed?" she demanded softly.
I rose and paced the gazebo like a trapped animal. "Fuck, Sweet, I'm not driven by revenge any longer. It doesn't mean a damn thing, I got it, and it didn't make one bit of a difference…except it hurt you, and I lost you."
"That just means you have a whole lot of regret." Her tone was nonchalant, like she was discussing the temperature of her tea, but I knew my Stella now, and I could hear the uncertainty, the hope.
"I do have regret. I have a lot of guilt that I'm processing as well. All that doesn't mean I don't love you. I do. I love you very much. I want a life with you. Tell me how the past month with me has been?"
I felt unpracticed, afraid. I was putting everything on the line for this woman, and the truth was I didn't deserve a second chance; hell, I hadn't deserved a first.
"Good," she said, and then chuckled. "Sexually frustrated."
I laughed at that. "My right hand is tired," I admitted.
"I can't believe I'm joking about sex with you."
I crouched in front of her, and set her port glass aside. I took her hands in mine. "One chance, Sweet. Let me take you out on a date. If that goes well, you can let me take you on another."