Chapter 26 Brad
Brad
Noah’s been acting weird. Weirder than usual, at least.
After the day in the park, he’s been avoiding me. No eye contact, no heated glances, he hasn’t even been joining us for dinner.
Just heads to work and back home again. No talk in the car, just short answers to my very boring questions. That’s all I get.
To top it all off, I have no idea where he’s been going in the evenings and it’s been driving me insane.
He’s been asking to borrow Veronica’s car once we get back home after work and once he leaves, he doesn’t get back until late.
I hear him come in around eleven every night.
It’s ridiculous. He’s running on little sleep, and if it were affecting his work, I’d say something.
But it’s not. He shows up, and he handles what I ask of him.
I asked Noah to leave things with us alone, but I can’t help but feel strange.
I hate that he won’t talk to me. I hate that I had to push him away, but at the same time, it felt like my only option.
The distance is making my skin crawl.
I wish I could let it roll off my back, but I can’t.
I’m in the kitchen, cooking on Sunday night, when his familiar footsteps echo down the stairs.
My pulse quickens, like it always does whenever he’s near.
Veronica is talking to me from the living room, as she plays with Paislee on the play mat.
I try to focus on what she’s saying about the upcoming girls’ weekend, but I just can’t tune in.
Not when Noah is leaving while looking like that.
I see him slip past out of my eyesight, headed for the door. He’s wearing a black sleeveless shirt and cuffed dark jeans. His longer hair has been trimmed, but not enough to lose its messy style. It hangs perfectly in front of those beautiful green sparkling eyes, like it always does.
“You heading out?” I speak out before he can leave.
His hand hesitates on the doorknob. “Yeah, why?”
I hate that I’m asking. I hate that I’m giving in to the most significant weakness I have. But, I’ve got to know. It’s eating me alive.
“Just curious." I shrug, folding my arms across my chest. "Where are you off to?"
His eyebrows raise, shocked by my audacity. Frankly, I’m shocked too. “Why? You want to come with me?”
Is that an option?
“Just want to know what time we should expect you to be home. You woke up Paislee last time,” I lie.
He squints. “No, I didn’t. I checked on her before I went to my room and she was sleeping.”
Shit.
“Well, you’ve been out a lot lately. Maybe you should stay home. It’s a work night.” I clench my jaw.
Fuck, I’m so not cool right now.
“I shouldn’t be too late.” He twists the door handle, and before I can say another word, he exits.
Dammit, I lost him.
“Honey, you have to let him spread his wings.” Veronica comes in, bouncing Paislee on her hip. “Maybe he’s met a girl.” She smiles, making a funny face at Paislee. “Oh, does Noah have a girlfriend?” she asks in a baby voice, cooing in Paislee’s face. “Yes, I think he does.”
I close my eyes, wishing this nightmare would end.
***
When Monday night comes and Veronica takes Paislee to bed, I tell her I’m going to step out for a moment.
Veronica barely looks up from her phone when I tell her I’m leaving. She’s been obsessing over this girls' weekend. Thank god for distractions.
She believes me because she has no reason not to. I don’t lie.
Not usually.
Unless it comes to him.
I catch up to Veronica’s car rather quickly. We don’t live in a big town, so her hot red car is easy to spot.
Staying a few cars behind, I take the necessary turns to keep up.
I know this is crazy. I understand how this is stalking.
But, at this point, I can’t rationalize it. When it comes to Noah, I can't act normally.
He’s got me so completely fucked up.
I push him away, only to wonder why he isn’t chasing after me.
It’s complicated, and frustrating, and I don’t have time to apply common sense before I spot him driving into a parking lot with a neon sign named, ‘Tipsy’.
We’re a little ways out of town, but I know of this place. Heard about it, at least. It’s a rock bar out here that often hosts live bands.
It’s a pretty popular spot here among the younger crowd.
I hear some of the work crew talking about it during the day.
I can tell by the clientele standing outside smoking their cigarettes and vapes that I’m well above the average age group.
I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.
My stomach twists to the point where I might be sick.
What is he doing here?
Is he coming here to meet someone?
I feel struck by a wave of sadness. The thought of Noah…my Noah…on his knees for someone else. Or, them on their knees for him. Moaning someone else's name. Those are my moans. They belong to me.
Fuck this.
Before I know it, my keys are out of the ignition and in my pocket. I march to the front of Tipsy. The doorman looks me over and gives me a nod, not bothering to ask for my ID.
The bar is packed, but I’m sure this is nothing compared to how it is on the weekend.
I weave through tall bar tables full of people standing, swaying to the music, chatting and having a good time.
I even catch a few eyes on me, running their gaze down my body as I step through.
I could’ve sworn I even heard someone mutter “sexy” seductively at me.
Flattered is the last thing I feel right now when blinding hot jealousy is raging through me.
My eyes scan the dancefloor, but at every turn, I come up empty.
I’m not one hundred percent sure what I’ll do once I find him here.
The jealous thoughts return full blaze.
What if he’s already with someone else?
What if he’s making out with someone in the bathroom? I’m not sure what I’ll do when it comes to him if this doesn’t prove that enough.
I feel pressure behind my eyes as I keep searching. Why can’t I find him? Jealousy is quickly turning into panic as fear washes through me. What if he’s in trouble and someone’s making him do something he doesn’t want to do?
Oh, Noah. Where are you?
I need to find him, right now. And after this, I’m getting him a damn phone.
Right when I’m about to admit defeat and ask whoever is controlling the music to call out his name and order him to the stage, my eyes land on the bar.
That’s when I see him.
He lines up a row of empty shot glasses along the bar, the clatter drowned out by the cheers of a group of eager twenty-somethings.
Holding the vodka bottle high, he pours a steady stream into each glass, his sleeveless black shirt open on the sides enough to tease the sharp cuts of his ribcage.
With his free hand, he flips his hair out of his eyes, chewing on a wooden toothpick that hangs from the corner of his mouth.
I swallow deeply. He looks like a fucking dream.
The group finishes off their shots, cheering and making their way back to the dancefloor.
My feet move, and before I know it, I’m sitting at a bar stool.
His back is to me as he wipes down the bottle and places it back with the others.
His co-worker down at the other end signals to him that he’s going for a smoke, and Noah nods, giving him a thumbs up.
He turns back around, and his eyes connect with mine. He immediately freezes.
I see all the emotions across his face. Confusion. Anger. Acceptance. Intrigue.
He leans on the bar, arms spread like he’s commanding the space. “What can I get you?” he asks, a glint in his eyes.
I wish time would just freeze. Just like this. His attention on me, just how I like it.
“Vodka cran. Hold the vodka.”
He nods his head, looking down at his well. “I can do that.”
I swallow deeply as I watch him move. “You work here often?”
“Every night till around ten,” he says, setting a cup on the bar and pouring some cranberry juice into the glass.
“Do you like it here?”
“Just trying to save some extra cash. Figure my shit out.” He shrugs, wiping splashes up with a cloth before setting it on his shoulder.
Am I not paying him enough to cover his bills?
I know I pay him the same as the rest of the men, which is a pretty decent wage.
Way more than a lot of contractors I know.
Plus, it’s not like he pays for groceries or anything.
But still, if he needs more, I’ll give it to him.
I’ll give him anything he needs. He doesn’t have to do this.
“First time here?” he asks, cutting into my thoughts.
I lift the glass to my mouth. “Yeah. I don’t normally make a habit of following my fiancée's son to random bars.”
His eyebrows furrow. Dammit, I shouldn’t have said that.
“Who would that be? Would I know him?” he asks.
My gaze locks in place. Oh, he’s playing a game.
He takes a moment to take another person's order at the other side of the bar, but I don’t miss the way he comes right back to me once he’s done.
“No, you wouldn’t know him. He’s a work and no play kind of guy.” I shrug, deciding to play along.
Noah cringes. “Sounds like a dork.”
This makes me laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “He’s the coolest guy that I know.”
Noah’s eyes drift over my face. Softness smoothing his features. “Is that right?”
I nod my head slowly before looking over my shoulder. “Yeah. He’d love a place like this, actually.” My gaze returns to his. “Just his vibe.”
“You seem to know a lot about what he likes,” he says, arching his brow.
I feel my heart beating out of my chest.
Powerless under his spell, my mouth moves before I can decide otherwise. “I want to know what you like.”
He stops moving and stares at me, straight into my soul. I hold my breath.
“I have a feeling you know exactly what I like.” His eyes flicker down to my lips.
“When’s your break?” I rush to say it before I lose courage.
“I can take it when my co-worker gets back.”
“How long do we have?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “How long do you need?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Make it ten and I’ll meet you behind the bar.”
I lick my lips. My cock is already throbbing inside my pants in anticipation. Truthfully, all I need is five seconds, but I’m not going to tell him that.
His eyes jump to the other side of the bar. His coworker steps in behind the wood, giving him a nod.
I feel my breath catch in my throat.
Noah’s heated eyes look back at me.
“See you soon.” He winks.