35. Noah
Noah
Fists pound on the door, and I fling my head over my shoulder.
“We should stop,” I whisper under my breath, my hands still glued to her waist, and her legs still hugging my hips.
I’m tangled up with her on this bed, and she isn’t about to free me anytime soon.
Let’s not repeat the words she just said to me while eating her out.
“No, ignore it.” Her eyes shut as she shakes her head. “The door is locked.” Her voice is sultry and sweet, but it’s laced with alcohol.
“Charlie, I can’t... I can’t.” I say, knowing a moment ago I basically confessed feelings that don’t belong inside a body like mine. Those emotions don’t exist in me, and I’ve told myself for years I wouldn’t let them seep into my bloodstream. Here I am, knowing a girl like her will ruin me.
“No,” she whines and tangles her hands in my hair as I climb on top of her. I peck her again on the lips.
“I need you to get up and put your clothes on.”
The door flies open with a thud, and the light from the hallway floods into the room. My ears ring from the twang of the door stopper filling the room.
It’s her brother. It’s gotta be him. Shit. His eyes scowl with fire in them. His body tense, his shoulders straight. He smacks the light switch on the side of the wall and hollers, “What the hell, Charlie!”
The light immediately blinds me, and my head spinning intensifies seven-fold, and I think I might be sick. I shield my eyes with a hand and Charlie screams back, “Oh, my god get out!”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ! Put some clothes on!” he spits out, saliva spewing from his lips. My blood runs thin, racing through my veins with my heart thundering in my chest. Chills dig deep into my bones. This isn’t the impression to give a brother who is twice my size.
Charlie kicks herself away from me, knocking her feet into my stomach, and it shakes me enough that bile coats my throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” She snatches the blanket up to her chest that I littered with hickeys, and there are red love bites all over her.
“I’m...” It’s coming up, my face going hot and cold, my mouth watering, but I swallow it back down. “I’m sorry.” I push my hair back with a hand and scoot off the bed. Luckily, my dick goes limp in an instant.
“You’re sorry?” He points a finger and his hands turn to fists as he stomps up to me with heavy steps. “That’s my sister!”
I stick my hands up because I’m not about to fight him and the walls are closing in on me.
I’m not fearful of other men, but for whatever reason, it being her brother, I’m bothered inside out.
“We were playing a game.” I back up, and my feet catch on a pile of clothes, and I nearly fall backwards.
The last thing I need is him having the high ground as I fall on my ass.
I realize it’s my shirt and pants, and I gather them up.
“Leave him alone!” Charlie throws a shirt over her head and storms up to him with puffy cheeks, banging her tiny fists on his back. “I’m not sixteen anymore!” But Ryder’s jaw twitches, his brows narrow, and all I see is the rage within the veins pulsating in his hands.
“Wait! Wait... I’m sorry.” I pull my shirt over my head, but I’m choking as he grabs the seam, pulling me up to his face. This is the second time today someone has threatened to knock out my teeth.
“Were you actually going to have sex with him?”
No, I can’t bring myself to take advantage of her. She’s drunk. I might be a douchebag, but I’m not that kind.
“Don’t!” Payton races into the room, tugging at his forearm, and Ryder’s eyes soften the second he hears her voice. The anger fuming inside him, his chest heaving in and out, calms. “Please stop.” Then he unfastens his grip and glances at his palms before running them through his hair.
I gotta end this.
I can’t be feeling like this for Charlie. My chest hurts more than it should for any girl. I can’t pinpoint the pain, but it’s everywhere, as if I already know the ending to the story, and it’s not a fairy tale with a happily ever after.
“I’m so sorry!” Charlie rushes over to me, cupping my face as it’s written all over me with pen and paper. “Oh, my God!” Her eyes shimmer with tears, and she shudders out a sob. Her fingers are warm on me, and I’d do anything to keep them there, but I need to leave.
“I’m fine...” I grasp her hand, giving her one tight squeeze. “I’m fine.”
“My brother is an asshole. I’m sorry!”
“I can’t do this...” I whisper to her, low enough for only her to hear. She shakes her head, her cheeks getting redder as she scans me for a sign that’s not what I mean. But it is. I remove her grip and push past her, grabbing my jeans and shoes before hightailing it out into the hallway.
“No, wait!” her voice echoes over the music, but I’m already jogging down the stairs, pushing past the people crowding it.
“Please, Noah!” I can’t turn back. I leap on one foot to put on a shoe, then the other, as her shadow gets closer by the second.
But I push through the crowd, shoving shoulders, and breaking up conversations.
Someone spills their beer all over their shirt, thanks to me knocking into them.
I’m done with the beer bottles clinking and the non-stop spiraling drama that is sucking me in.
I hate drunk people. I hate drunk strangers.
I rush out to the back patio, scoping out the crowd searching for Omen, but I don’t catch him anywhere.
I head back inside, searching the kitchen and merely faceplant into vomit. It coats my shoes as I slip. Gross. This place is a madhouse. I check the hallways, but there are just people making out. I shove past them and come to a sudden halt.
I see it. Charlie sobbing. It’s ripping out my heart as Charlie hits Brody in the chest. Tears, streaming down.
She loves me? But I'm watching the pain ingrained on her face as they argue with each other.
The type of arguing only people who are too close to each other would have.
She was a distraction. Something to get me out of the slump I feel like I'm trapped in. That’s it.
A distraction I need to let go of. She loves him, not me.
Fuck this. I make it out the front door, and down the porch steps as I speed walk to my truck hidden within the darkness of the street.
Once I get into the truck and slam the door, my head falls onto the steering wheel as I dig through my pants, patting the pockets down for my keys. They jiggle as I pull them out and ignite the engine. Like clockwork, I pull out my phone, texting Omen.
Noah: I need to get out of here.
Omen: Told you it was gonna be a shitshow.
Noah: Did you get laid?
Omen: Fuck yeah, you outside?
Noah: I’m in the truck.
Omen: Give me a minute and I’ll be right out.