CHAPTER 2
Noah
The girl in front of me is beautiful. A bit above average height, maybe 5’6 or 5’7, and with a smokin’ hot bod. She’s slender, a little on the small side on top and with slim hips. The body style I’m most attracted to, if I have to choose. It makes me feel all protective or caveman or some shit.
She’s dressed in a maroon-colored skirt, a fitted white blouse, and low heels in plain black. Very conservative and proper—and totally wrong for the innate sensuality of this woman.
Her hair’s long and straight, kind of a coffee color but darker. Maybe like espresso. Her eyes are light brown, possibly hazel. She has the clearest, smoothest skin I’ve ever seen, a really cute, slender nose, and lips that curve seductively but aren’t too full.
All in all, the perfect package for me. If I hadn’t recognized her before—and I did…instantly—her husky voice would have given her away.
Paige Hamilton.
“Paige!” I grin, surprised by the flash of appreciation I feel, and move closer. “Hello, sweetness.”
I take her in my arms and pull her close, until she’s pressed against my chest and pelvis with every bit of her softness. The fit and angles are a lot like I remember, even though it’s been—what? Maybe five years. Her head tucks under my chin, her cheek rests against my chest, and I like the way it feels. It’s been a long time since I’ve held a girl close and tender like this.
Fucking doesn’t require it.
Well…maybe I’ve held Bree this way, but that doesn’t count. She’s like a sister to me, and nothing I feel for Paige is sisterly. Never was.
She isn’t the first girl I ever fucked, but she was among the first. She is the one I stayed with the longest. The longest in my entire life, actually. We dated for almost two years, and she told me she loved me. I said it, too, and probably even meant it at the time.
That’s how shit goes in high school.
She’s also the only girl to ever break up with me. Makes me want to grin a little bit now, but it pisses me off at the time. I get it. I’ve grown up, learned not everybody is cut out for my kind of lifestyle. That’s okay; they don’t have to be. It’s better when everybody wants to play, anyway.
Paige? It was too much for her. But me? I’ve played a lot.
She feels kind of stiff against me, I realize. Like she’s…uncomfortable? Is that possible? Really don’t know for sure, but I release her and step back.
Her smile shocks me, fake and almost awkward, and she only pretends to look at me. Her gaze lands somewhere around my shoulder, and she doesn’t acknowledge my stare.
Does she really feel like it’s been that long since we saw each other? Or is it the fame thing? Why the hell else would she be so standoffish?
“I…” Her voice drops off, and then she starts again. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Why? I visit Lolo a lot.” Maybe not every day, but three or four times a week when I’m in town.
“You…usually come at night.”
“You keeping tabs on me, sweetness?” I tease, but she doesn’t smile back.
I don’t mean to keep using the old high school name I had for her, but it just pops out. It’s so damned natural. It started as a joke, a naughty one, back from the first time I went down on her. I told her she tasted sweet, she called me a liar, and she became sweetness after that. I couldn’t resist.
Does she remember?
I open my mouth to say…something. Not sure what. Not like I can ask her if she remembers when I used to eat her pussy. Not in front of my grandmother. Then it doesn’t matter when Lolo saves the day.
Sort of.
“Who are you?” she demands.
I glance past Paige to where Lolo squats on the sofa. She doesn’t sit in a relaxed, comfortable way. She’s kind of hunched and anxious-looking. Her appearance is a little messier than it was two days ago. Her clothes look dirty and don’t fit right, and her hair is only partly combed. I swallow a sigh.
Fuck. I struggle to keep my expression neutral. So this isn’t one of Lolo’s better days, apparently.
“It’s me, Lolo. Noah.” I move around Paige, get a little closer—but not too close. I learned the hard way that crowding Lolo’s personal space is a bad idea. Especially on a bad day.
“I’m here a little early,” I add, “because I have plans tonight.”
She stares at me, her blue eyes faded and cloudy. Is she trying to process what I said? Still figure out who I am? Or just trying to decide if she believes me?
“A maintenance man shouldn’t hug the postmistress,” she sniffs disapprovingly.
“Maintenance man?” I look at Paige. “Postmistress?”
Paige angles her head slowly toward me, as though giving me some sort of instruction that I don’t understand. I lift my shoulders to say, what the fuck?
Paige huffs out a short breath. “Why do you think he’s a maintenance man, Lorraine?”
“He’s not wearing a letter carrier’s uniform. It’s disgraceful! But…” She blinks, narrows her eyes, and looks me over from head to toe. “Do they let mechanics and maintenance men wear something different?”
“Only letter carriers can wear that uniform,” Paige answers without looking at me.
“Yes.” Lolo nods. “I suppose that makes sense.”
I’m…confused. Lolo worked at the post office for years, yes, but it’s also been almost ten years since she retired from there. A lot has happened since then; I graduated from high school, joined the band, started touring.
And Papi passed away. Maybe that’s why she goes back to a happier time?
“Do you see Lolo often?” I ask Paige, still considering my ideas.
“Young man! Don’t be impertinent with Miss Hamilton.”
I blink, look between them. “Miss Hamilton?”
“Lorraine, would you mind if I spoke to Noah alone?”
Lolo blinks, looking suspiciously between us. “Is he in trouble?”
“No.” Paige smiles. “We just need to talk.”
“All right.” My grandmother nods like she’s the queen of the world. For a long time, she was.
Queen of my world, at least.
Paige starts for the door, and I follow, wondering how often they visit. I didn’t even realize Paige knew Lolo was at the Bridge.
“My grandson’s name is Noah,” Lolo calls just as we reach the door.
I turn back, but she continues to speak before I can say anything. “Maybe he’ll grow up to be a big, strapping man like you. He wants to be an airline pilot or a truck driver.” She laughs. “We’ll see how he feels about that when he’s old enough to get his driver’s license.”
A small, empty place opens up in my throat, and I swallow it down. Lolo rarely knows who I am now, but I treasure the times she recognizes me. Today isn’t one of them. I must be ten or twelve in her mind.
Losing our connection while she’s still here breaks my heart. Especially now, when things are kind of fucked-up in my life. And it’s been—what? A year and a half since Papi died?
Why does everything have to change? Why can’t it all just stay the same?
“Follow me.” Paige leads the way down the hall. She takes a couple of turns, staying far enough ahead of me that conversation doesn’t really work, and then she arrives at a small office area. A desk is partitioned off and sits outside the Office of the Activities Coordinator, according to the sign on the door. She escorts me inside.
“You work here?”
She nods. “Since college.”
“And you’re the Activities Coordinator?”
“Acting.”
I angle my head and wait.
“I’ve got six months to prove myself worthy of the job. Uh—” she glances at the calendar on the wall “—make that four months and three weeks.”
“Wow. Impressive, sweetness!” I smile my you-know-you-want-me smile, but she doesn’t respond.
I try again. “How are you?”
“Fine, thank you. I don’t have to ask about you. Everybody in Austin knows about Wycked Obsession.”
I stare as she takes a seat behind her desk. What does she mean by that? Everybody in Austin knows about Wycked Obsession? Is it the success? Zayne’s stint in rehab? The rumors?
Especially the ones about me?
Her expression reveals…nothing. Her dark eyes are distant, her mouth pressed tight in a thin line.
Seeing me isn’t something she likes.
Breath deserts me for a second, but I search for air and pull it deep into my lungs. Paige doesn’t want to see me?
The idea never occurred to me until now. I mean, I know we didn’t end under the greatest circumstances. We didn’t like the same things anymore, and so she cut me loose. Aren’t I the one who should still have hard feelings?
But I know that’s bullshit. It wasn’t that we just didn’t like the same things anymore, as much as I might try to convince myself of it. I was in sexual discovery mode, finding out what I liked, what turned me on, what I wanted more of.
Being with two girls at once was the big one. Once I went there, I didn’t want to go back…and Paige said she didn’t want to share. I was disappointed. Fuck, yeah, I was, but I tried to respect her decision. We broke up, and that was that.
Wasn’t it?
“So, how do you like being known as the sexiest drummer to ever come out of Texas?”