Page 171 of Relapse

Noah’s eyes were cold. Distant.

“I don’t want a team,” he said, with a little smirk. “I don’t want to figure anything out. I want to push it all away. I want to just be. I want to fuck. I want my eyes to roll back into my head with pleasure. And I’m coming to you for that. Why aren’t you grateful?”

I stared at him, stunned by his demeanor. It dawned on me then, that Noah may not love me back. That he might never want to.

The old me might’ve just shrugged it off. Fucked him and be done with him. But me now? The one who had expressed my feelings to Noah so openly, the one who held him close when I thought I was going to die.

No. Never in a million years would I accept that deflection.

I pulled his chin up so that he was looking at me in the eyes.

“Do you want me to beg for you, Raven? I will. I’ll beg. I’ll grovel. I’ll fucking kneel. I’d do anything for you, can’t you see that?” Noah stared back up at me, wide-eyed. “Why won’t you let me love you?”

It was quiet for a moment before he responded.

“Silas, there is no such thing as love.”

And I lost it. Right there. In my own bedroom.

“Noah, I love you so much it will kill me.” I clutched my chest as though holding myself there might keep me together.

“I know it will,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I know it will, because it’s the one thing I can’t brush off. I can’t get rid of it.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Noah just shook his head. I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know what to say for him to understand that my confession was genuine. I just wanted him to accept me. To accept us.

“I need to have you,” I tried again, caressing his cheek. “More than I already have. Not just your body. And not just the pieces you want to share. I want your heart. I want all of you. Just like you have me.”

The confession left me empty. I had exposed my true feelings for Noah, and there was no going back from it.

NOAH

Silas had lost his mind. And I was right there with him. We were two levels of crazy, barely surviving.

But Silas was on the highest level, and he wasn’t stopping.

“I love you,” he repeated shakily. “I always have. I think maybe, I’ve loved you forever.”

It wasn’t his fault, I realized. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t love me. There was nothing to love. He was blindsided by the sex. Blinded by our trauma. I needed to help him remember that pleasure was all this was.

“Fuck, you don’t feel the same,” and it’s the first time I heard his voice quivering, the slight shake sending me back to the night we had laid in the streets together. Beaten and broken. Pieces of hollow shells scattered about the asphalt.

“Ssh…” I moved closer, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“Noah, please,” he practically begged.

“I’m going to give it to you,” I soothed, reaching for his boxers. He grabbed one of my wrists, blocking me again.

“This isn’t what I’m talking about. You’re avoiding the conversation. You do this shit all the time, Noah, for fuck’s sake, talk to me. Talk to me and tell me what we need to do so that you’ll believe what I am telling you.”

“Can’t talk if my mouth is full, can I?” I purred, enjoying the little twitch from his boxers.

He wasn’t fooling anyone. Off they came.

“Noah,” he growled, but his grip weakened. He wanted it. And I knew how to give it to him. How to quiet him. Keeping his chaotic words at bay. Stop the nonsense about love.