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He comforts me, holding me tightly to him until I have no tears left to fall.
I go to try and move off his lap, embarrassment shifting through me, but he holds onto me tighter. "Not yet, baby; I've waited five years to hold you again; I'm not ready for you to put a wall up between us just yet."
I nod and relax into him. I know we can't be together; we need to think of Lilah and put her first. She wants her daddy, and she'll need him all to herself, and she deserves it; she deserves her happiness, and he deserves his life with that woman. I know Mel said she was just a sweet butt, a woman who wants a patchedbrother, but she's staked her claim, and by the sounds of things, he hasn't exactly pushed her back from keeping it just about sex. I have no claim on him, not after I walked out listening to someone who was jealous, who I thought was a friend, but our daughter has a claim, and she needs him. My being in the way will mean she won't get all of him, and I won't have that. Not for my little girl; she deserves the world, and her world is having her daddy.
He takes a deep breath before sighing, "You don't smell like passion fruits anymore; you smell like oranges. I don't like it; you need to change it back."
I smile; I can't help it. "Your daughter decided to pour fresh orange juice in my shampoo this morning and in my perfume bottles; I didn't have time to have another shower."
I feel his body shake with his silent laughter, and I shake my head, sitting up to look into his laughing hazel eyes. "You laugh now, but just wait when you go to shave, and she's put chocolate sauce in your shaving foam like she did to Dagger when Mel had her one night. I think I heard him swearing from here."
He laughs louder, and I tap his chest, making him grin at me before he gently wipes his thumb under my eyes as another tear falls. "What happened, Wildcat?" I go to speak, but he just shakes his head. "Five years ago, what happened?" I slowly close my eyes as some more tears fall. When he talks again, I open them to look at him. "I thought we clicked; I thought we had a connection. No, I know we did, because even now, your touch sets a fire within me. So what happened? What spooked you to leave like that? To leave town?"
I furrow my brows and get off him, making him scowl, but I just shake my head before placing my hands on my hips.
"I didn't leave town, Noah; I stayed there for another year to see if you'd come back."
This time he stands looking confused. "I did come back, Meg, the morning after when I found you gone and a few months later. Cindy told me you were only a passer-through and left that morning. When I came back after that, she said you hadn't returned. I've called that damn diner several times a year looking for you. It’s only recently that George told me you haven't been there for years and that he misses you."
I can't even soften at the mention of George.
That jealous homewrecking bitch!
I start to pace; oh god, how could she?
I know Noah's watching me, but he's letting me have a moment, and I appreciate that. It's the one thing I could never understand—only one night together, and he can read my emotions like a book. I stop and face him.
"The morning after we spent that night together," I stop and swallow hard, but he nods, telling me to continue. "My phone rang, so I went to go and answer it outside so I wouldn't wake you. Another waitress was asking if we could switch days, and I thought it was perfect because I didn't want to leave you until I bumped into Cindy, who was also my childhood friend. We went to school together since we were like five. She was the outgoing one, while I was the shy, nerdy girl who couldn't talk to boys." He grins at that, and I narrow my eyes at him, making him lift his hands up in innocence. "She was coming out of another brother's room; when she saw me, I couldn't help it. I was excited about our connection, and I knew I just knew deep in my bones that you were the one, and if you had asked me to, I would have left on the back of your bike without looking back." His eyes melt at my confession, but they soon darken at my next words: "She told me she'd slept with you before, which I admit I was a little defeated about, but not everyone was a nun like me, and I told her it didn't matter that I knew we were supposed to beuntil she said you don't do relationships. She said, I was an idiot for thinking you would." I let out a huff. "I left so I wouldn't feel heartbroken if you rejected me. I listened to her words.
It wasn't until the next week had passed by that I realized she was talking out of her ass; she started treating me like shit and tried to get me the sack. She wanted you, and she was jealous, but I was just too late, and then I found out I was pregnant. I asked anyone who was working when I wasn't if you'd shown up, and they all told me no. They sided with her after she'd said I'd stolen you from her. After a year, I had to move on for my school, and I ended up in Washington."
He grinds his teeth together, his jaw locking. "When I went back to the diner a few years ago, she'd dyed her hair black—the same shade as yours, fuck." I winced because, yeah, she had a screw loose that I didn't see coming. "I fucked her that day picturing you." I winced again, pain slicing through me, but I couldn't really hold it against him despite feeling like I'm drowning. Can I?
Or maybe I can kick it where it hurts so he can feel my pain.
I stopped that thought. Nope, no, I can't. We had one night; he gave me a daughter, and that's where it needs to stay, I guess.
Dammit, I really want to kick him where the sun doesn't shine.
Noah links his fingers behind the back of his neck before looking at me. He looks tense and extremely pissed off. He drops his arms and points at me.
"I haven't lived like a monk. I've fucked a lot." I wince again, my heart breaking, and he starts to pace. "God, just the thought of you made me want to fucking break. I've tried to find you for five fucking years while also trying to fucking forget you." My brows shoot to my hairline, and he gives me a pointed look."Don't say it; I already fucking know it doesn't make sense. Trust me, I fucking know. But day in and day out, you were all I fucking thought about. All I fucking wanted. I needed an hour—one fucking hour—where I didn't think of you, where I didn't feel like I was dying from the inside out, like I couldn't breathe. One night, Meghan, that's all it took for you to steal my fucking soul."
He's breathing heavily, and I bite my bottom lip.
It's all good for him to say these things, but he needs to think of Lilah now, not me. He has a woman staking claim—a woman he's apparently been sleeping with before I even came on the scene and continued to sleep with when I left. We need to leave things the way they are. Him being a good daddy, I know he'll be. He looks at me again and shakes his head. "No,"
Seriously?
"No what?"
"No, we're not doing whatever you think."
My eyes widen. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I totally know what he's talking about. It'll hurt, maybe us being...
I don't finish my thought when he points at me: "We are not being just friends." I swallow hard, dammit. See, he can read me like a fricking book: "We will be happening Wildcat. You are mine and I finally have you back after longing for you for five fucking years, I finally have you with me. I’m not letting you go again.”
