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How do I—
Wait. I looked back at myself, the light bulb turning on in my head, and just like that, the smile returned to my face.
“Daniel.”
“Yes ma’am?”
“Don’t tell Noah or Austin about what happened tonight. I’ll give you money for the repairs. Do you understand?”
He didn’t reply.
I sighed. This was the problem with using other people’s people: they had loyalty issues. It didn’t matter if it was a stylist, driver, or bodyguard.
“Your job is to pr
otect Noah, and me because he asked you. Well, know this: there is no other person on earth I want to protect more than Noah. But he won’t let me. Which is why he can’t know I met his brother tonight.”
“You met who?” he questioned, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.
And just like that, Daniel became my guy.
Noah
Panic.
Sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior.
With my condition, it was dangerous for my emotions to swing drastically, and for the most part, I did a good job of keeping my emotions in check. I could stay cool sitting only a foot away from the head of the Irish mob, a bunch of thugs with knives in a bar, no problem. Hell, being shot at by said thugs—I was good. None of that scared me.
What did was walking into the hotel room where the love of my life was supposed to be and not finding her. No note, no call, nothing—just her clothes everywhere. That was fear. That was panic, and just like that, I found myself falling against the wall, my body shaking out of my control.
Shit.
Three months. I had made it three months off my meds without a single fucking attack, and one day in the city without her, I was brought to my knees.
“Ah!” I grunted out. I pulled my arms and legs to my chest, trying my best to stop the shaking.
“Noah, breathe, relax,” Austin said, stuffing another pill into my mouth. I wanted to tell him that telling someone with a disorder to relax was as fucking useful as telling a pregnant woman to use a condom. However, I couldn’t say anything given how badly my teeth were chattering together.
“Noah!”
Amelia? I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not.
“Noah!” Her hands cupped the sides of my face. Opening my eyes, I saw her. Her beautiful blue eyes stared back down at me.
Thank God.
“Shh…” she whispered, pulling me into her lap, hugging me to her chest. I listened to her heartbeat slowly, breathing in her perfume. “Shh…I’m right here. I’m right here,” she kept repeating.
I’m not sure how long we were like that, huddled on the floor of the presidential suite in some random hotel. I didn’t care. It was the best place in the world, because in those minutes, the world wasn’t fucked up. I was neither Noah Sloan, Frank’s son, nor Noah Sloan, the former child star. I was just the guy she loved. And that’s the only me I ever wanted to be. That’s what made the shaking stop.
“I love you,” I whispered once my body relaxed.
“And I you. Always,” she said softly. Reaching up, I brushed the tears that had built up in the corners of her eyes.
“You don’t have to cry every time this happens,” I said.
She frowned her at me, her bottom lip sticking out. “I don’t mean to. But I know it’s painful for you, and knowing I can’t do anything frustrates me so much.”
