Chapter 3
NOAH
The mic clunks to the floor with a loud clatter and a jarring squeal of feedback.
All eyes in the bar swing between Rhett and me as Black River’s golden boy stomps out of the door.
Embarrassment pinkens my cheeks, and tears sting the back of my eyes.
I fight not to let them fall. Chin dipping to my chest, I step off the stage and avoid the glares from the patrons.
They want to say our theatrics have put a damper on their night?
Let them. Ignoring their jeers, I push my way through the disgruntled crowd.
I pass the booth full of Rhett’s family, and before Sage can grab me, I shake my head, catching her eye so she knows not to follow.
“It’s been three years, Noah. Let him go.” Brandy stands from the booth like she’s the one who should comfort him.
Sage grabs her arm. “Sit down and keep your nose outta their business.”
Brandy glares. “They aren’t anything to each other. He’s—”
Cole inhales with an audible sniff. “Jace, there’s a whiff of desperation in here, do you smell it?”
“Yes, Cole. Yes I do.”
Although I feel some kind of way that the twins are on my side, I push past the table, overwhelmed by the wave of emotion that crashes down over me.
Hurt, jealousy, regret … but most of all, white-hot rage.
How dare Rhett make me feel like I did something wrong?
He’s pissed? Well, guess what, cowboy? I’m pissed, too.
And that backstabbing so-called friend? She can fuck right off, and when she gets there, she can fuck off again.
I dash toward the door that’s just banged shut. Seriously? He’s going to storm out like I did something wrong? I’m not the one out here sticking my dick where it shouldn’t be. Of all the people he could have moved on with? He chose my fucking friend.
Leaving the blaring music and stale beer smell behind, I exit.
Warm night air does nothing to cool my skin or calm the fire rippling through my bloodstream.
I scan the row of trucks, knowing every cowboy and rodeo star in that damn bar owns one.
But then, I spy a familiar hat over the top of a cab where Rhett’s about to pull open the driver’s side door of the same sunburnt Chevy he’s been driving since high school.
I suck air into my lungs, and I can’t stop from marching toward him. The closer I get, the angrier I become. He hasn’t moved an inch, though, almost as if he senses me coming. I stop about six feet short of him with a sharp exhale. “Brandy? Brandy, Rhett? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What do you care, Noah? Last I checked I’m free to fuck whoever I want. I’m not married. Not even engaged, am I?” He shakes his head, reaching for the door handle.
“’Spose not.” I throw a hand up and cringe as the diamond on my finger glitters under the glow of the neon lights.
His eyes close briefly as he turns, unable to even look at me. Under his breath, he hisses, “Nice ring. A bit gaudy for my taste. I preferred the one you left on my dresser.”
I clamp my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to meet my gaze again. “Fuck. You.”
In a move so swift I barely register my back hitting the truck door, I’m suddenly caged between his arms as he lowers his face in line with mine.
His voice drops to a husky growl. “No, Noah, fuck you. You don’t get to waltz back into town after you left like you did and tell me who I can or cannot do.
You lost that right the night you took off runnin’. ”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” I spit. “I’m surprised the soles of your boots haven’t worn through with the way you ran outta that bar.” As he steps closer, completely into my space, the scent of bourbon, petrichor, and cedar surrounds me, too familiar, too much.
Dark eyes roam over my body, like he’s searching for something, and when they capture my gaze, heat flickers there. I know Rhett. But I feel as if I don’t know this Rhett anymore. “And yet, you chased me out here, darlin’ … didn’t you?”
The familiar term of endearment has the sour lemonade and vodka mixture churning in my stomach. It’s not something I have a definitive answer to. Not one that I care to share with him in the middle of this parking lot, anyway.
“Admit it. You were jealous. But that’s nothing new, is it?” His warm breath mingles with mine as he baits me.
My face heats, not only from rage, but from the raw sexual energy exuding from him. I can’t. I close my eyes, trying to distance myself from his intense glare. He grips my chin, fingers dimpling my cheeks. “Seeing you jealous has always turned me on.”
“That sounds like a you problem.” But his words have done exactly what I’m certain he intended them to do, and my core contracts. Rhett always had the ability to dampen my panties in seconds, and from the twitch of his lips, the fucking bastard knows full damn well he still affects me.
“It’s an us problem. Always has been.” Punctuating his point, he grinds the hard length of his cock against my stomach.
I gasp. “Maybe Brandy can take care of that hard-on in your jeans. Because I sure as fuck won’t.”
“Are you worried your manager will catch wind of you suckin’ a dick that isn’t his? After all, that must be how you ended up with that ostentatious rock on your finger, right?”
Fuming, I shove at his chest, forcing him to take a step back. Before I can respond, his mouth curves into a wicked smirk. “Can’t say I blame him. I could never resist those lips wrapped around my cock, either.”
My hand connects with his cheek before I even know I’ve done it. I don’t feel bad about it, though. He’s being an asshole.
His eyes widen, and his features morph into something unrecognizable. Closing the distance between us, he gets right in my face. “That’s it, Noah. Get mad.” His nostrils flare. “It’s been three fucking years, and I’m still fuming.”
I jolt as he slams his hands against the truck’s frame on either side of my head, once again caging me in. I flinch, staring into his anguished eyes. Under any other circumstance, I would be afraid. But never with Rhett. He’d never harm me. Not physically.
He drags in a breath, his gaze boring into mine, his voice filled with gravel. “About time you felt what I feel, Noah. Every time I hear your name or see your fucking stunning face, I wanna hate you. But I can’t. And it drives me fucking crazy.”
As he finishes, my heart clenches hard in my chest, and my gaze flicks to the muscle that’s jumping at the back of his jaw. It tells me he’s not done. Not even close.
He shakes his head, astonishment bleeding from his every pore. “The fucking audacity you have coming back here, berating me for moving on with my life while you’re flaunting that prick’s ring. Un-fucking-believable,” he bites out as his chest heaves. “I wanna rip it off your finger.”
His gaze shifts to my lips, lingering a beat too long.
Every nerve ending has become electrified.
My breath catches, but I force myself to remain still.
A war plays out behind those chocolate eyes.
He wants something he knows he’s not allowed to take.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but he steps closer.
Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.
The steady beat of my heart stutters like it wants to remember something I’ve tried so hard to forget.
His breath caresses my cheek, and my pulse pounds in my ears.
It’s then I realize, if he kisses me, I’ll let him. And I’ll hate myself for it.
I should push him away. But instead, I freeze like some part of me is transported back to the summer when I wore his ring, and he looked like my forever.
“You’re embarrassing me, Noah.” Bradley’s voice is in my head, like a poison.
“Remember who made you, sweetheart. You belong to me.” I’ve heard those lines so many times, they sound like scripture.
My phone is tracked, he controls what I’m allowed to wear, and he’s pushed everyone close to me out of my life.
It’s a miracle Sage hasn’t given up yet.
I flinch every time my phone buzzes. He does all of it in the name of protection.
But I know … I’m nothing more than his possession.
Every movement I make is really him pulling the strings and calling it compromise. At least he’s not hitting me.
I should feel guilty for being in Rhett’s arms, but I don’t because the parts of me Bradley is slowly killing have finally remembered how to breathe again. Unsure what to do next, I choke out, “What are we doing?”
“I’m a good man, Noah,” Rhett rasps, “but even though you’re not mine anymore, I’m taking the goodbye we never got.
” One hand moves to my waist while the other tangles in my hair, pulling me in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
Before I can put a stop to this, Rhett’s lips land on mine like a collision.
No patience, no rhythm. Just lips crashing, teeth grazing.
Raw longing, splitting us wide open. He’s not pinning or forcing me.
It’s just urgent and desperate. My breath hitches as his tongue brushes against mine.
The cadence shifts. Slow, then fast, like neither of us can decide what this is.
A goodbye or something that never ended.
We kiss like the world doesn’t deserve to see it.
And when we finally break apart, our foreheads still touching, I get my answer.
“Go back to your penthouse with a view, Noah. There’s nothing here for you anymore. You made sure of it.”