Chapter 10
ALEX
I might be drunk.
Four empty bottles of wine remain on the table beside a carafe of coffee. I stopped counting after my fourth glass. Pretty sure I contributed to draining each of those bottles though.
Noah sighs contentedly, leaning against Gabriel’s shoulder as he sips his coffee. He looks relaxed—unlike me. Just his presence alone is making me jittery, even after four-plus glasses of wine.
I hate to admit it, but they actually look good together.
Noah, with those striking blue eyes and soft, almost feminine features. He’s a beautiful man, for sure.
And Gabriel, all masculine swagger, with that chiseled jawline and storm-gray gaze. He’s extremely handsome. I swear, he won the lottery in the Spanish gene pool.
I’d never tell him that though.
Not that it diminishes how sexy Elijah is. Obviously, I think he’s a hunk—more masculine than Gabriel in that quiet, effortless way.
Gabriel’s somewhere in the middle.
Kind of like me, I guess.
Ugh.
He’s not anything like me.
Taking another sip of my coffee, I keep watching him… admiring his stupid good looks as he runs his fingers through thick waves of hair. Strands fall right back into place around his face, like they know exactly where to land.
He’s so good-looking, he could probably model if someone gave him the chance… which I am definitely not about to do.
Why do I have to be such an ass?
He’s the reason Elijah and I found our way back to each other, after all. And he’s such a good father to Ana. Emilee too. He accepted her right into his family without any hesitation. Welcomed both of us into his world when he didn’t have to.
But that’s him—a really nice guy.
I’m the ass.
I glance sideways. Noah’s face is still flushed that beautiful shade of pale pink, lips soft and doughy.
My hands skate across my thighs as he leans toward Gabriel and smiles.
Such a pretty smile—simple and sweet.
It’s addictive.
Just like he is.
It’s messed up in a way because he’s not someone I’d actually date. Or even fuck. Okay, that’s a lie. I’d definitely fuck him. But that aside, what I’m trying to say is he’s not my type. He’s not Elijah.
And how in the world could he not realize who he was dating?
I mean, do they even talk? Probably not. They probably spend all their time fucking.
“Goddamn it!” I hiss, scalding my tongue and spitting hot coffee onto the table.
All eyes snap toward me.
Thankfully, I’m saved by the chime of the elevator.
“Hey, Dads!” Ana singsongs, practically bouncing into the penthouse, full of her usual flair.
I’m pretty sure I’m included in that fatherly greeting—she’s made it abundantly clear that she’s over the moon about having three gay men in her life. That said, I’m still Mr. J most of the time, which is perfectly fine by me. Honestly, it’d be weird if she started calling me Dad.
Emilee skips in right behind her, looking like her twin, hair pulled into a high ponytail.
“Hey, Dad.” She waves, and my heart melts—scorched tongue and all.
Rounding the table, she makes a beeline for Gabriel, blowing a kiss to each side of his face, clearly comfortable with the European custom she picked up on her trip to Spain.
Then she looks across the table—and her eyes light up like someone just flipped a switch.
“Hey, Noah!” she bursts out, her grin stretching ear to ear.
She bounces over to him, arms looping around his shoulders, her lips grazing his cheek—too familiar, too easy. My chest knots.
What the actual fuck?
Stunned doesn’t even cover it. I’m floored.
Gabriel goes rigid, shoulders locking like he’s been snapped upright by a spring. The tension rolls off him in waves. Elijah notices too—his fork hovering midair, a bite suspended. For a split second, it feels like we’re all caught in the same held breath.
“I wasn’t aware you knew Noah?” I manage, nudging my coffee aside like it somehow complicates things.
She blinks at me. “What kind of question is that, Dad? Of course I know him. We met in Spain.”
Elijah’s fork slips from his hand; the clatter ricochets off the plate.
My jaw goes slack.
Noah’s eyes flick to mine, nervous, apologetic, something.
Gabriel squirms, the chair creaking under him.
A thin, uneasy silence settles over the table, the kind that makes you suddenly aware of every tiny sound you’re making just by existing.
“Excuse me,” Noah mutters, coughing as he pushes away from the table. He doesn’t wait for a response—just slips out, heading for the bathroom like it’s a lifeboat.
“Stephania,” Elijah says through his teeth, still staring straight at Gabriel. “Take Emilee to your room.”
The full-name treatment lands hard. Elijah only uses it when he’s two seconds from combusting. Ana knows it too—everyone does—but of course it glides right off her like everything else.
“Oh boy… here comes the gay drama.” She’s mocking, rolling those dazzling green eyes. “We should really consider putting you three on reality TV. A Day in the World of Gay.”
She throws us a grin, bright and only slightly obnoxious, and hooks Emilee’s hand in hers, escorting her down the hall like she’s evacuating the premises before the real show starts.
The tension she leaves behind doesn’t follow her. It sits with us, settling like an unwelcome guest.
That’s when I seize the opportunity to follow—using the girls’ exit as cover to go in search of Noah.
The bathroom door is closed, but surprisingly not locked. Lucky me. Or unlucky, depending on where this goes. I skip knocking and ease it open.
Noah’s braced against the counter, delicate fingers threading through his hair. Even rattled, he’s captivating, like he stepped out of a painting. Something soft-edged and breakable.
I shut the door behind me and click the lock. The sound is louder than it should be.
I cross the small space, plant both hands on the counter, boxing him in. My pulse spikes; something twists low in my stomach.
“Look at me,” I say, trying to force calm into my voice that I don’t feel.
He lifts his head, but his eyes stay fixed somewhere near my collarbone, anywhere but my face.
“I said, look at me.” I’m so mad, I barely have the breath to carry my words, sharp against the tension humming between us.
“I c-can’t.”
His voice catches on the first consonant, and for a second, the whole room feels too small for both of us.
“You can and you will.” I lean in, lips hovering dangerously close to his. His breath stutters and lips tremble as I watch a tremor travel through him as his eyes pave their way up to mine.
“What’s going on, Noah? Are you fucking him?”
He goes still—statue still. No blink, no swallow, nothing.
“Noah!” My fist slams against the counter before I can stop myself. The crack ricochets off the quartz, sharp enough to make him flinch. A single tear slips down his cheek, carving a quiet line. And finally—he blinks.
“Are you fucking him?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh, no? Then explain to me what the fuck is going on? Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like you’re fucking.” My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears. My chest tightens around every breath, anger burning so hot it’s blurring my vision.
“W-we’re dating.”
His long lashes woosh over those beautiful blue eyes, and something inside me snaps, sending me on a tailspin.
“Oh, you’re dating? Dating?!” The word hits my tongue like something toxic. My anger spikes—white-hot, uncontained—and every emotion I’ve been choking down since dinner barrels straight through me.
Which is completely insane. I know.
But knowing doesn’t slow a damn thing down.
“You know my daughter, Noah. You’ve been to Gabriel’s house in Spain, for Christ’s sake!” My voice cracks—anger, confusion, something else I don’t want to name. “And why do I feel like everywhere I go, you’re already there? Like you’re one step ahead of me, and I don’t even know why.”
He swallows, shoulders tightening, but offers nothing.
“What am I missing, Noah? What’s there to figure out?” My hands grip the counter, hard enough to make my knuckles burn. “Tell me, damn it. Because I sure as shit can’t make sense of any of this.”
He stares at me, wide-eyed, those pretty blue eyes bathed in tears. “I didn’t know,” he cries. “I didn’t know about any of this—Ana, Emilee, Elijah, you. I promise, I didn’t know.”
He drags a shaky hand over his face, like he’s trying to wipe the panic off with his tears.
“It’s all just a coincidence—me dating Gabriel. It has nothing to do with… with—” His breath stutters, voice thinning to a whisper. “It has nothing to do with me needing you.”
“You fucking have me! Goddamn it, Noah!” And the second those words leave my mouth, I feel the bottom drop out—because I don’t even know what I mean by that. Elijah and I are solid. I’d never leave him. Not for Noah. Not for anyone.
Those pretty lips quiver as a river of tears spills over them.
I want nothing more than to slam my mouth against his—just to put an end to all of this. His panic. My intensity. Me. Him. But that’s what got me into this mess in the first place, isn’t it?
“No, Alex. I don’t have you.” His voice breaks. “You’re Elijah’s. The only place I’ve ever had you is in my dreams.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and drag in a slow, shaky breath.
He’s right. I do belong to Elijah. I love Elijah, for god’s sake.
But Noah—Noah’s like a goddamn drug.
Every time I see him, something chemical ignites under my skin. I hate how he pulls me in. I hate how he makes me forget what’s right. One look from him, one tremor in his voice, and suddenly I’m drowning—gasping for air in a sea I shouldn’t even be swimming in.
This isn’t just temptation. It’s self-destruction dressed in tear-streaked cheeks and blue eyes.
I drag a hand over the back of my neck, trying to steady myself as I breathe in the toxic temptation standing in front of me.
“I want you, Noah… you’ve got to know that. You know that I fucking want you.” I say it like I’m making a point, when really there’s no point to be made.
“But… you love Elijah.”