Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
NOAH
I’m surprised when Cade starts opening up. I think he’s going to launch into his explanations as to why he believed he was asexual, but instead, he gives me so much more.
I dunk a french fry in the aioli, and moan when I discover the combination is incredible. I dunk another, and bring it to Cade’s mouth, and enjoy the subtle twitch of his lips before he opens and lets me feed him.
He likes this. He just isn’t used to it. But that’s why he has me.
“So, you said you went to private elementary school, keep going. I want to know everything.”
He nudges his glasses up and my insides go wobbly at a flash of me slowly taking them off of his face, both of us naked, a hot shower running nearby. God I love those fucking glasses, and I love the version of him without them, too, the vulnerable, naked, only for me side.
“Yeah,” he nods, sipping the second drink the bartender has left for us, completely oblivious to how desperate I am for him, how every word he speaks is a cliff for me to dangle from until the next cliff he gives me.
“Private school. And uh,” he clears his throat, and lifts his eyes from his napkin, where he carefully blots the grease off of his fingertips. “When I was about eight, my mom died.”
“Cade.” I want to pull him into me, because even though that loss was years, and years ago—a lifetime ago, even—I understand that it is the type of loss that rattles you every single day, no matter how much time has passed. “I’m so sorry. I… didn’t know.”
I’ve read a lot about Ford Mercer in the papers, in magazines.
I’ve seen him on talk shows and celebrity “are they or aren’t they” lists, canoodling with much younger women.
I know he’s wealthy, and owns a series of high-end speakeasy bars.
I also know his sister is a thriving real estate agent working for his even more successful uncle.
His family is full of flash and success.
And then there’s quiet Cade. Unsure of himself. Private. Shies away from attention. Just wants to do the right thing.
I always just assumed his parents split up. Or I guess, I thought so much about Cade, I didn’t really wonder about much else. I feel bad now that I’ve never asked.
His eyes hold mine, and the intensity in them tells me far more than the shrug of his shoulders. “It’s been a long time. I’m okay now.”
While I know that is true, I also unequivocally know that isn’t true. You can’t be fine after a loss like that. Ever.
I slide my hand to his knee and cup it there, just for a moment.
And I know if he wants to tell me more, he will.
Instead, he forges ahead, telling me how he grew up going to openings and fancy parties, how he’s close with his family but he and his dad are the least close of everyone.
He tells me that Kat is his best friend, and that he adores Zennie.
And then, he stops all Cade Mercer backstory, cuts his eyes to mine, touches my arm, and apologizes.
“For accusing you of… I don’t know. Using me, or, I guess insinuating that you jump from person to person.
” His fair skin flushes as he uses a curled knuckle to nudge his glasses up his nose.
“I know you’re not like that and I know that I only felt that way because in comparison to my own life, you’re… ”
His sentence hangs, and a flurry of undesired traits dance through my brain. I hope however he chooses to end that sentence, that it isn’t from the pool of thoughts in my head.
But Cade is so pure, and I don’t know why I’d ever expect anything else.
He moves his glass around on the napkin, and finally levels his gaze my way.
“You’re bold and vibrant, you’re alive. You’re social and sociable, you’re…
my opposite, and exactly what I need.” My eyes fall to his mouth as he rolls his lips together.
His voice is lower, huskier when he says, “And everything I want.”
I place my hand on this thigh, and he places his hand over mine, though our eyes stay focused and intent on one another.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time. I’ve been waiting for you to show me any cracks, any small sign that you’re ready.
” I hook my thumb over his and stroke his hand.
“Thank you for letting me in, for giving me a reason to knock, and for answering.”
The pink never leaves his cheeks. “Thank you for your patience.” He peers over the top of the bar, to the back wall where the lower-level restrooms reside. “Now, another minute of patience, because I have to pee.”
He filters through the crowd, and I watch him, because the truth is, I can’t see anyone else. I try. I try to survey the crowds of people moving from bar to table, looking for students, colleagues, anyone to say hello to, to diversify my energy because I’m so hyperfocused on Cade. Us.
But I can’t. Every time I try to look at someone else, I feel panicked, itchy.
I want to watch the bathroom door. I want him to come out.
I want to be with him and talk to him, and I’ve never been so obsessed with someone, while also knowing full well, I really like him.
It’s not just physical. My heart beats faster when I think of him.
A woman slides into his seat, unaware of his two glasses clearly indicating that someone is sitting here. I’m about to correct her, and kindly tell her that my date is returning in a moment, when my eyes snag on her profile, and I realize who it is.
She cuts her gaze my way, zero recognition in her eyes. It doesn’t surprise me. I’ve only met her once, at Kat and Zennie’s wedding, and I’m pretty sure that the last time I saw her—out on the lounger on the balcony at night—she was drunk.
That night, as I recall, Ford was the one who stayed with her on the balcony.
And as I also recall, when Cade and I were leaving that night, Ford was also driving off…
in the direction of her place. I know it was in the same way that she was headed because I watched her slip into a car and go that same direction, too.
I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I’d say Ford and Kat’s best friend, the drunken beauty at the bar next to me, are in a relationship. And something happened tonight, because if she was good drunk, there would be a good drunk version of Ford here, too.
I glance behind me, looking for him, the older man covered in ink with a swoop of dark hair and enticing eyes, and see no one even close to that. He is not here. I turn back to Juliette.
“You’re a rule breaker, I didn’t expect that.
” Kat is her bestie, and Kat is wild. The law of attraction tells me that Juliette then must be straight-laced.
But here she is, sitting in Cade’s seat, not waiting for a spot to open up and definitely ignoring the hostess who is currently glaring at her back.
The bartender strolls up, and they exchange conversation that ends with Juliette taking a shot of the cheapest vodka the bar has to offer. In a fur coat that drags on the floor, she tugs at the collar, cheeks pink, complaining of how hot she is and how well the coat is working.
I love drunk people. They make no sense.
I clink my glass of soda water against her shot glass, and toast her. “To coats. Doing their job, rule breaker.”
She tosses back the shot without a wince, and glares at me. “Don’t hit on me.”
In the distance, I spot Cade’s head sifting through the crowd. Thank goodness. He must know Juliette well, and can probably get a better read on this entire situation.
“I’m… I’m really not,” I assure her, pressing my fingers into my chest, leaning in. “Do you—you don’t recognize me, do you?”
She shakes her head, and like every drunk person sitting alone at a bar, pours her guts out. It’s hard to follow, and I ask questions where I can, but the gist is: Ford cheated on her.
I can’t see Ford being a man that cheats.
Integrity, class, those are words I’d use to describe him from what I’ve seen and from everything Cade has told me.
Tonight, even, he shared with me the lengths his father went to in order to keep his and Kat’s childhoods normal.
The way he brought out pictures and told stories on the regular, even though it pained him. He did it for his kids.
Yet, Juliette’s tears are very real. And right when she realizes who I am—“Noah?”—the door dings and I peer behind us to lay my eyes on Ford Mercer, and his friend Elle.
Juliette follows my gaze, and promises she’ll pay me back if only I can pay for her drinks, just so she can go.
She makes me promise to not tell Cade, which is a promise that feels vital in breaking, and slinks off toward the bathrooms along the back wall, passing Cade as he slips back into the seat.
I put my hand on his thigh, a gentle way of telling him I’m pleased that he’s returned, and he pats my hand.
It’s just a moment, then my hands are back on my side, and his are on his side.
But when Ford approaches, my mind goes fuzzy.
I lose the ability to charm and hold conversation.
I don’t want Cade to think that I patted his thigh because I knew Ford was here and wanted to reveal his sexuality to his father.
I would never do that, and for how nervous Cade is about all of this, it’s imperative to me that he knows exactly what happened.
“Ford,” I clear my throat, and his eyes come to mine, wide and full of fear, and I realize, this moment is something for him, something between he and Juliette, and what’s going on between me and his son is for another time, another day.
I nod toward the restrooms. “I believe she’s in the restroom. She was just here. She’s… upset.”
He shakes my hand, and he goes, but Cade begs me to hold on another minute, and follows after his dad.
When he returns not more than a few minutes later, I don’t even let him speak.
I drag his barstool near mine, and angle my lips to his ear, leaning in for a sliver of privacy.
“I wouldn’t have made physical contact with you if I thought your dad was paying attention.
I just… you came back and it was my natural reaction.
I’m sorry, Cade, if he saw and it’s thrown a wrench in the plans or–”
He cuts me off with his palms gripping my cheeks, and presses his lips to mine. It’s not passionate or wild, there’s no tongue or swallowed moans. It’s a kiss to make a statement. And I like the statement he’s making.
“Let’s go. We can talk more at my place but…” His eyes drop to my mouth and pride swarms me at the adoration in his gaze. “Let’s go back to my place.”
I pay Juliette’s tab, and ours, and leave the restaurant with Cade slipping his hand into mine.