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“They are, but I was jealous of them,” he responds. I gasp in surprise, because I never would have guessed that in a million years and I’m really shocked that Noah would admit that to me. “I know that’s fucked-up,” he chuckles, letting me know he heard my astonishment. “It’s the truth, though. They had everything I wanted, and couldn’t seem to grasp. They had the brotherhood, they had a family. They had women they adored and they were good women. The likes that I have never met in my life.”
His words hurt me, and I’m sure they aren’t designed to—but they do. Still, I don’t react. I close my eyes and just listen.
“I never planned on having Ryan like I did. I wanted children, but I wanted them with a woman that I knew would be there forever. I wanted my child to always have the influence of a good woman’s touch, because I had never known that and I knew it was important.”
“I’m not sure, Noah. My mother was a good woman, at least that was who she became when she met my stepfather and married him. Before that, it hurts to talk about. But even while she was good… it didn’t help my brother at all.”
“I don’t know that story, Gorgeous. I hope someday you will give it to me, but I can tell you that you are everything fucking good there is in this world and if your mother struck out on helping her son, she gave everything she had to you—because you’re everything.”
His compliment takes my breath. I could write them off as just words, but they don’t feel like words. They feel… real. I want to believe them. I don’t… I don’t trust Noah. But I want to.
Noah seems to understand my struggle because he squeezes me and kisses the top of my head again, pulling my face even deeper on his chest where I’m resting. The small move brings my ear against his heart and I can hear it beating… strong and steady.
“I planned on never having children until I found the woman I thought I could lay it all down for. I was determined that I wouldn’t settle and I took precautions. I was always careful. You’ve been here long enough that you’ve seen the boys party. I might have tried that once or twice, but that was never who I was. I didn’t want that part of the life. I had this dream and I wanted exactly that… the dream.
“Then how did, I mean… Vicki…” I start to ask my question, but stop. I don’t know why Noah is sharing, but it’s really not my place to pry.
“Ask, Rory. I want you to ask me anything. I want you to trust me and I’m going to be an open book for you.”
“It may not change anything, Noah. I can’t… I’m not the person I was in Montana. I’ll never be that person again. I’ve lost too much.” I feel compelled to warn him of that.
He kisses my head again, and he squeezes me so tight that it’s almost painful.
“I have to try, Rory. I have to believe all hope is not lost and that you might give me another shot. If I lost that hope, I think I would die.”
“That’s crazy. You have Ryan,” I remind him. He kisses me again, and I can feel his breath stir against my hair. I wait for him to respond, to agree that he has Ryan, but he doesn’t. He comes back to my question.
“Vicki was… she hid her addiction from me at first. It wasn’t hard to do. Maybe it wasn’t as bad back then, or I just never noticed because I didn’t spend that much time around her. I never realized her habit until it was too late. But, whatever the reason, she wasn’t with a lot of the other brothers in the club and I liked that. I’m not a man to share, even if what I’m getting isn’t what I plan on keeping. I like knowing that what I get, she’s not giving the others when she leaves my room,” he says, his voice matter of fact, and my lips curl in distaste.
I mean, I know how the world works, and this kind of sums up people’s attitude with sex today, but it’s not who I am. I’ve always given a piece of myself and with Noah… I gave him everything.
“So, even back then, with Vicki, I was careful—very fucking careful, but condoms aren’t a hundred percent. Things happen,” he sighs and I know he’s talking about something else completely. I shouldn’t take his words and hurt over them… but I do.
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me this story,” I whisper, pain thick in my voice.
“Jesus,” Noah growls.
He moves quickly, jarring me—but he does it so fast that I barely have time to blink and he’s moved so I’m lying on a pillow and he’s over me. He turns on a lamp that’s by the bedside and then his hands are on each side of my face. He doesn’t allow me to look away from him. He keeps me right where he wants me. His intense gaze holding me as much a prisoner as his hands.
