Chapter 15 Maya #2
“I’m sorry, Maya. That was terrible.”
That should’ve been my out. My chance to steer the conversation somewhere else. But for some reason, I kept going. Like once I’d started, I couldn’t stop.
“The last time I saw him, he was on the ground, gasping for breath. And I…I was in cuffs. I lashed out and tried to get to him, but they held me back. I couldn’t do a thing. I got slapped with a misdemeanor for it, initially assaulting a cop, though the judge went a little easy on me.”
A hollow laugh scraped up my throat. “The next time? It was at his funeral. The prison let me out just for that, but they sent guards. They made sure I didn’t forget exactly what I was.
What they thought I was.” An ache gathered beneath my collarbone.
“My mother hated me even more for it. Like I hadn’t lost enough already. ”
Noah didn’t speak right away. He just held me, as if he understood something no one else had ever tried to.
And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was standing alone in the wreckage.
A beat of silence stretched between us.
Then Noah said, “You know, I don’t believe in bad luck. But if I did, I’d say you got dealt one hell of a hand.”
I didn’t know why, but that nearly undid me.
He wasn’t telling me I was strong. He wasn’t handing me some hollow line about everything happening for a reason.
He just…got it.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
I didn’t feel like I had to apologize, didn’t feel the urge to explain or justify. Because he listened.
The music softened, the world shrinking until it was just him and me, his fingers pressing lightly against my back, his breath so close that I could feel it.
Noah leaned in.
And for one reckless, breathless second, I almost let him.
But I pulled back, shaking my head slightly.
I wasn’t staying. A kiss would’ve been unfair to both of us.
His eyes flickered, but he didn’t push. Instead, he drew in a breath, then let loose a smile that wasn’t big, though it hit like it was. “Guess I’ll have to work on my timing.”
“Guess so.”
We found our rhythm again, slipping back into the waltz.
But I held him a little tighter this time.
Beneath the charm, the confidence, and the strength, I felt something raw, something breakable. And all I wanted was to shield him from what was coming. We weren’t fooling anyone. Feelings had tangled between us. And when I left, it wouldn’t just be distance. I’d be the one to break his heart.
He didn’t deserve that. Not him.
The song ended, but my pulse hadn’t slowed.
And that was a problem.
A big one.
“Drink, Blue?” Noah’s voice curled around the nickname with just enough heat to stir something inconveniently warm in my center.
“What happened to the ‘Storm’ bit?” I asked, raising a brow.
That crooked smile of his stirred up every wrong idea in my head.
“Nah. Just Blue for now. Gotta earn the rest.”
I crossed my arms, mock stern. “Lucky you didn’t go with Blueberry Muffin. That would’ve been downright offensive.”
“Could’ve gone with Bluebell. Maybe Bluebird,” he said, laughter in his voice.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’d let those slide. As long as it’s not muffin-adjacent or remotely princessy.”
He leaned back slightly, enough to give me space, but not enough to break the moment. “All right,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “So, drink?”
I made the universal pondering face, half frown, half flirt. “It’s gonna bloat me up, but yeah, sure.”
The truth was, I needed something cold. Something to reset my brain.
His lips twitched. “Worried you won’t be able to squeeze back out of that dress?”
Bastard. I smacked his arm, but my laugh came too loud, loud enough that Sheryn shot me a look like I was the one getting married.
Pleased with himself, he asked, “What’s your poison?”
“Champagne,” I said, mostly because it was the closest thing within reach.
He smirked. “Safe choice.”
I arched a brow. “If they had bourbon on the rocks, I wouldn’t be playing it safe.”
He glanced around, scanning the drink table. “Hate to break it to you, but unless you want to chase down a ranch hand and wrestle a flask off him, champagne’s all we got.”
I sighed, eyeing the empty corner. “Tragic. I guess the open bar’s just running fashionably late.”
“You’re early, Blue,” he said, passing me a glass.
We turned toward Sheryn and Nick.
“To the bride and groom,” Noah said, raising his glass.
I quipped, “To the poor guy who now has to live with Sheryn’s color-coded spreadsheets.”
Sheryn chucked a fistful of confetti at me as the room burst into laughter.
Noah barely managed to take a sip before he said to me, “Brutal. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
I hummed, swirling the champagne in my glass. “That’s the thing, Noah. I don’t really have a good side.”
He looked me dead in the eye with something there that I didn’t understand. “You sure about that?”
I wasn’t.
Not when I was standing here, laughing with him, and letting the night settle around us like it belonged to us alone.
Not when he looked at me like I was something more than a series of bad choices.
A waiter passed with a tray of champagne, and I took another glass. Maybe my third, maybe more. Hard to keep track when my heart’s already a mess.
Dinner was served, conversations carried on, and through it all, Noah stayed beside me.
Saying goodbye to him would be worse than prison.
Because men like him didn’t just break through walls. They made you believe the ruin had been worth it.