Chapter 22 Brad
Brad
I try to steady my shaking hand as I pay the pizza delivery guy.
“Shit—sorry,” I mutter when the change slips from my fingers and clatters to the ground. I scramble to gather it, cheeks burning.
He offers a polite smile and hands me the pizza once I finally get the right amount into his hands.
I’m all out of sorts. I couldn’t fucking breathe the moment I saw his face. His beautiful, perfect, fucking face.
Just standing there, looking at me like he expects me to crumble to my fucking feet.
Well, the joke is on him. I’m not going to. I’ve built a life here since he walked out of it.
Such a fucking asshole.
Such a tight, tight, fucking asshole.
No!
I breathe out heavily as I drop the boxes on the counter. I have got to pull my shit together.
My stomach is so twisted right now, completely destroying my fucking appetite. I don’t know why we ordered three large pizzas when Veronica won’t eat more than two slices and Noah, with his tight, fit body…
No, fuck! God fucking dammit.
“You okay?” Veronica asks, looking at me with arched eyebrows. She’s sitting on the couch, bottle feeding Paislee. “You seem…tense.”
Them. They are what I should be focusing on. Not her son. Not the guy who is currently upstairs right now, lathering himself in the same body wash I used to stroke my dick with the other night, thinking about him—
Shit.
“Yeah,” I finally answer. “I mean, no. I’m fine.”
Veronica lets out a heavy breath. “Listen. I know you and Noah have never gotten the opportunity to really get to know each other. I honestly really wish the camping trip went better for the two of you. But, maybe this is your chance for both of you to form a real bond.”
“I highly doubt that.” I slam the cabinet shut, harder than intended, making Paislee start to cry.
Dammit.
He’s already got me so fucking messed up.
How am I supposed to make it through this? Being so close to him while I feel so much.
Looking at his face out there on the back patio reminded me how much I opened up to him last summer.
How much I let him in. And when shit hit the fan, how willing I still was to figure it out because he meant just that much to me.
And it still wasn’t enough for him. He gave me one look and walked away. No—ran away.
My blood boils as I walk over to Paislee, choosing to redirect my attention before I get really angry.
“Hey, Honeybee. I’m sorry. Did daddy scare you?
” I coo, picking her up from Veronica. I see her tears run down her face as she continues to suck on her bottle, which makes me feel even worse for making her cry.
When I was young and my dad was angry, it was really scary.
That is not something I want to emulate. I want to be better. I’ve got to be.
“Maybe he won’t stay for long. Working with you will help him save up, and before you know it, he’ll have his own place again. We can be alone.” Veronica smiles up at me.
I look away. The thought of that makes my stomach uneasy all over again. He just got back, and she’s already okay with him leaving?
“Yeah,” I answer softly, swaying side to side.
“Oh, is that pepperoni I smell?”
His deliciously charming voice startles me.
I look over my shoulder to see him make his way into the kitchen.
His hair, still dripping on his shoulders, hangs in front of his face.
With no shirt, he chose to wear nothing but low-rise black sweats.
My eyes take in his tattooed chest and shoulder pieces that he must’ve gotten while in Hawaii.
Shaded and complex, weaving into each other like one big intricate art piece.
Those are new.
“Noah, let’s all sit at the table.” Veronica gets up from the couch. “Eat together, as a family.” She winks at me.
I tense. She's doing this for me? Closeness is the last thing I need with him.
I look over at him and see his eyes fixated on me as he answers, “Sure”.
I swallow deeply. This is not going to be easy.
***
“Oh, Reef sharks are nothing to be scared of. Perfectly harmless.” Noah explains before biting into the tip of his pizza.
I look away. Watching him insert something into his mouth isn’t something I should be doing. I focus on my own slice, picking off the pepperoni so I can eat it last.
“You eat like a toddler,” Noah says to me, breaking me out of my distraction and right back onto him.
I look up and deadpan as I slip one in my mouth to prove a point. “I like saving the best for last.”
“Clearly.” He narrows his eyes at me.
I pause, meeting his gaze before taking another bite. What does that even mean?
“Well, all sharks scare me,” Veronica says, shaking her head, wiping her hands on a napkin. “I don’t care if they’re harmless. I could never go near them.”
This makes me laugh, reminding me of how Noah was terrified of bears on our camping trip.
I found it so endearing then. So, cute and adorable how close he’d snuggle up to me.
As if my only job were to protect him. Even though it's painful to remember, the memory still makes me smile.
I look at Veronica to make it not obvious that I was thinking about the beautiful boy across from us.
Even though I can feel his fiery stare, like it’s drilling into the side of my head.
“So, what are you two now? Married? Engaged? Just fucking?” Noah snaps, making my head whip back towards him.
Veronica’s jaw drops. She clamps her hands over Paislee’s ears, seated on her lap. “Noah! Where’d that come from!?” she hisses.
His eyes lock on mine. His mouth is getting him into trouble, the same way it always has. It’s like he can’t control himself. He needs some sort of reaction to feel seen.
“We’re officially engaged.” Veronica holds up her hand to flash the ring I bought her a few months after Noah left. “Life has been pretty busy, clearly with Paislee, but we’ll get married as soon as everything settles down.”
I take a deep breath in and I look down at the pizza on my plate, refusing to make eye contact with him. I don’t need him deciphering how I truly feel about the situation. I should feel happy about the engagement. Excited even. But it turns out, a diamond ring can’t fill an empty heart.
“Oh, that’s just amazing,” Noah says, a tight smile curling his lips. “Great news, actually. I’m just so sorry my congratulations is so late,” he sneers, sarcasm dripping from every word.
I look up at him, unable to control my mouth as the words spew out. “You would’ve known sooner if you had picked up one of our million calls.”
This takes Noah back. I see it all over his face that he wasn’t expecting me to come back with that. Well, fuck it. I’m standing up for myself. He can’t sit there and make me feel like shit about doing what was right. It would’ve been different if he had stayed.
When we could’ve figured it out together.
“Got rid of my phone. Needed a break.”
“You ran away.” I huff.
“I gave you space,” he answers. His eyes flick over to his mom. “You all space. To focus on Paislee.”
“Yeah, but going silent for a whole year? Not cool,” Veronica adds, sliding her plate closer. “It’s normal for us to be upset,” she says, then takes a bite of her pizza.
It’s nice of her to want to help, but this runs far deeper than she even knows—which just adds another layer of pressure and guilt.
“You didn’t need me.” Noah looks between the two of us. I’m sure he feels ganged up on. But, I don’t care. He needs to hear it.
“I needed you,” I say, too fast. Noah flinches, barely, but it’s enough.
Shit. My hands shake.
“Your mother needed you. Paislee...you missed her birth.”
Noah sits back in his chair. Obviously, that strikes a nerve.
“Yeah…well… I am sorry about that,” he says quietly.
“Good to see you actually give a shit,” I mutter under my breath.
Noah’s eyes lift to mine, and all I see is heat and fire. “You know what? Fuck this. I don’t have to sit here and be scrutinized. I just got back.” He moves out of his chair and heads into the kitchen, putting away his plates.
“I leave for work at five-thirty tomorrow morning. You’re either on time or you miss your ride,” I call over my shoulder.
Veronica gives me a subtle thumbs up, as though I need the encouragement to keep him in line.
“Yeah, whatever,” Noah mumbles. I listen as his footsteps fade, followed by the sharp slam of his bedroom door.
Okay, maybe this could work. Keeping him where he’s supposed to be.
At arm's length and not an inch closer.