Chapter 18
Eighteen
NOAH
“How did she accidentally shoot you in the ass?” Disdain drips from Vee’s words.
My family stands over me, assessing me like a zoo animal while I try and fail to find a comfortable position on the couch.
Dad brought me three casseroles like I’m dying, not recovering from a minor gunshot wound.
As long as I can avoid an infection, the doctors reassured me I should be fully recovered in a few weeks.
But you’d think they’d told my family to start planning my funeral.
For the hundredth time in an hour, Mom squeezes me to her and croons, “My baby,” while Vee stands with her hands perched on her hips. Dad clearly wishes he had a magnifying glass to examine my wound, and Killian cradles Edgar Allan Paw in his arms while trying to bite back his amusement.
Killian, previously Edgar Allan Paw’s arch nemesis, is now the fiery feline’s favorite human.
The last thing I want to discuss with my family is how I ended up in a situation where my fake girlfriend shot me because her kinks drove me to break into her apartment. Again. Honestly, it’s a miracle she hasn’t shot me until now.
“She thought I was an intruder, so she pointed a gun at me,” I explain. “When she lowered it, she accidentally fired.”
Vee crosses her arms. “Why would she even think you were an intruder?”
I cringe, but I won’t expose Summer’s stalking kink. That’s not anyone else’s business, and I’ll take her secrets to my grave. “She didn’t know I was there.”
Mom swats my shoulder. “Why wouldn’t she know you were in her apartment, Noah? Were you sneaking around? Was it one of those ridiculous pranks you and Killian like to pull? No wonder you scared her!”
“We haven’t pranked anyone since middle school, Mom.”
“Good suggestion, though.” Killian scratches Edgar Allan Paw’s head, who nuzzles into his chest. Their size difference is almost comical. “We should prank someone again, Noah. I miss it. Who should we prank first? Vee or Dad?”
Vee glares at him while Dad evaluates the wobbly leg on my coffee table.
“Carson,” I tell him.
Vee’s gaze narrows at me now. “Leave Carson alone.”
Mom approaches with a towel and soap. “Honey, tug your pants down so I can clean the wound and change your dressings.”
I hold both my hands up to fend her off. My mother hasn’t seen my bare ass since I was in elementary school, and I plan on keeping it that way. “I got it, Mom.”
“You can’t do it yourself,” she insists. “You need me to help you—”
“Show us that ass!” Killian shouts, and Edgar Allan Paw jumps from his arms and scurries off. Killian is back on Edgar’s shit list.
“I’m fine.” I try to scoot back, favoring one ass cheek, but pain still shoots up my hip at the movement. “Summer’s on her way to help me out.”
“Or maybe she’ll just shoot you again,” Vee snipes. “Finish the job.”
Maybe it’s my stinging ass cheek or my mother encroaching on my personal space with a massive bottle of soap, but Vee’s unending sarcasm finally snaps what little patience I have left. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be with your fiancé planning a wedding?”
Vee doesn’t flinch, but Mom reels back, eyes wide. “Why are you snapping at your sister, Noah? We’re all just trying to help.”
The last thing Vee is trying to do is help. She’s been against my relationship with Summer from the beginning, and even though I know she’s coming from a good place, I won’t let anyone talk shit about Summer. She doesn’t deserve that.
Although, I will admit, this does look pretty bad. I can’t exactly blame Vee for being suspicious after Summer mutilated me.
“Give the guy a break,” Killian says. “He just got shot in the ass.”
“Best spot to get shot.” Dad finally drags his attention away from my wobbly coffee table to squeeze my shoulder.
“How is there a best spot to get shot?” Vee demands.
Dad ignores her. “I’m proud of you, son.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. “For . . . getting shot in the ass?”
“For keeping your wits about you.” He smiles at Mom. “And for sticking with a woman when you know she’s worth it.”
Mom grins back at him before hugging him around the middle.
Killian nods. “You literally took a bullet for her. That’s true love.”
Vee rolls her eyes. “The bullet was from her, not for her.”
“Same thing.”
“I’d take a bullet for her too.” I’d do anything for Summer. Anything she asked of me.
Mom’s hand flutters to her chest, eyes watering. “You really do love her. I’m so happy for you, honey.”
“He’s known her for five seconds.” Vee’s voice goes up an octave, gaze darting around the room like she’s wondering if she’s the only sane person here. “And do I need to remind everyone: she shot him!”
Mom is right. Whatever I feel for Summer, it’s more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else.
Love. There’s nothing else it could be.
Pretty sure defending a woman who shoots you in the ass can’t be anything but love.
I won’t tell my family that, though. Not yet. Summer deserves to hear those words first.
When my family finally leaves, I can breathe again.
Until Summer shows up, punching in the code I sent her for my front door and waltzing into my house in a sundress that stops mid-thigh.
Her neckline doesn’t reveal any cleavage, but that doesn’t stop my mouth from watering at the way the fabric hugs her curves.
Her cheeks contain the barest tint of rosiness, her chest rising and falling quickly in her rush to get here. Those round brown eyes dart around the room. “Did your family already leave? Do they hate me now?”
A genuine note of worry in her voice. Even in a fake relationship, she cares what my family thinks of her.
I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. “No, they could never hate you.”
“Victoria hates me.” She folds her arms, unintentionally pushing up her breasts, and she’s making it pretty damn impossible to concentrate on anything else.
“She doesn’t hate you; she’s afraid for me. It’s all fear. It’s a defense mechanism.”
“I guess I can’t blame her. I did shoot you. You could’ve died.” With that, Summer bites her lip and turns away from me.
“It was an accident.”
She shakes her head. “That’s no excuse. I already returned the gun. And I really am so sorry—”
“I know. You said it about a dozen times on the way to the hospital, a hundred more times while I was there, and half a dozen times since I was discharged.”
“And now I’m here to wait on you hand and foot.” She clears her throat and straightens. “Whatever you need. I’ll clean your wound, feed you, bathe you, rub your feet, wipe your ass, whatever you need me to do.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to deny I need any help, but I’d be lying, and if accepting some help means Summer will be around more, that’s what I’ll do. “Honestly, if you can keep me from getting an infection and take care of the animals with me, that would be a huge help.”
She nods. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”
I flash her a grin. “If you could also refrain from maiming me the next time I break into your apartment to make your fantasies come true, that would be great too.”
Her gaze lands on my ass, hidden now beneath my sweats. “You’re injured. I don’t think you’ll be breaking in anywhere anytime soon.”
“A few weeks of recovery won’t stop me.”
Summer approaches, hair falling in waves past her shoulders, the hem of her dress whispering around her thighs, and my mouth waters. Before I can brace myself for her next move, she’s climbing onto the couch and straddling me, careful not to put her full weight on me.
She’s on my lap. Summer Brooks is on my lap. If she had a knife in her hand, we’d be playing out my fantasy from the night we met.
When her lips press against mine, I forget about the stinging, throbbing pain in my ass cheek. I forget my damn name when her tongue slides against mine, and she lets out a soft moan.
My arms loop around her to hold her close, and there’s so much I want to do with her. So many places I want to touch her, so many sounds I want to elicit from her lips—
“I still can’t believe you were stalking me.
” When she breaks our kiss, my mouth lands on her neck.
I can’t get enough of her. Can’t stop tasting her, breathing her in, devouring her like she might disappear from my arms any second.
“That whole time, you remembered our conversation from the night we met.”
“Sorry for keeping secrets, but that seemed to be an integral part of your fantasy.”
“Absolutely.” She grins, cool palms a balm to either side of my neck as she hangs onto me. “So I know you were tracking me from the GPS you planted on my car. You texted me from a different number. But how did you get into my apartment again after you fixed my door?”
“I made a copy of your spare key.”
Her brows shoot up. “Wow. I didn’t even think of that. Thank you for cleaning my apartment and folding my clothes, by the way.”
“No problem. Thanks for installing that camera and pointing it at your bed.”
She gives me a coy smirk. “Did you enjoy watching?”
“Loved it.” Still dream about it.
The kiss she presses to my lips is more tender this time.
I could never get tired of kissing her. “Thank you for not freaking out when I told you about my stalking kink. Even my tamer kinks sent my exes running. It feels nice to know that someone could finally—” She cuts herself off before she can blurt the words she wants to say. The words I desperately want to hear.
That someone could love her for exactly who she is.
“—accept me. You don’t try to change me or make me feel ashamed for who I am.”
I cradle the back of her head, rubbing my fingers against her scalp until she’s leaning back into my touch and letting out a soft gasp. “I would never do that. You’re perfect the way you are.”
A wry smile twists her lips. “I’m not. But if that’s how you see me, I won’t argue.”