“Noah, are you okay? What happened?”

I fought back the tears in my eyes and quickly wiped them away as best as I could to look at my boss—and one of my closest friends—Daniel Aria, in front of me.

There he stood, beside a much taller man who I couldn’t quite see, because the light behind him was obscuring his features. And Dan, well… I could tell his presence and voice anywhere.

Dan was one of the nicest people I’d ever had the honor of meeting. He was often closed off to people and had this kind of remoteness to him that made him seem aloof, but that’s honestly only because he was guarded.

Perhaps not as guarded as I was, but it showed more on his face. He never betrayed his emotions, but he was one of the kindest people I knew. I suppose he just courted heartbreak and disappointment in a different way than I did.

He had an ease, that kind of sexy Brazilian way of being that I honestly can’t describe except that it permeated him and every little move he made, and he knew it. He was physically attractive, and he owned it in a way I probably couldn’t even come close to. But he was never truly interested in most people—men or women—and seemed to keep his private life very private. I was just lucky enough to be one of the few he chose to be part of his inner circle, I guess.

“Seriously, what the fuck happened?” Dan asked. He took a few easy steps forward, taking the cup of water on the table in front of me and lifting it closer to my lips so I could take a long sip. He adjusted the thick-framed glasses on his face, and that usually calm, collected façade broke into one of worry.

In that moment, though, my gaze found its way to the man standing by the doorway. Dan followed my eyes and nodded. “Right. Farid, this is Noah Linkletter, my employee and dear friend.” Dan gestured to me, and then looked back up at him. “Noah, this is Farid Hassan. We were in a meeting when we found out that you were in the hospital, and he insisted on driving me here. His company invests in our app.”

Farid nodded and seemed to hesitate between moving forward or not. There was even a moment where he was about to extend his hand, but seemed to think better of it when he saw my cast. Instead, he put both hands behind his back and offered me a polite bow of his head and a smile. “I wish we had met under more auspicious circumstances, Mister Linkletter, but nonetheless I am happy to make your acquaintance,” he said.

Formal and stiff, I thought. And not in the way I would have liked.

Still, he had that tall, dark, and handsome thing down pat. The tan of his skin was rich, and it complemented the almost amber color of his eyes. He had an aquiline nose and a five o’clock shadow that made him look all the more intimidating as he looked at me. His voice had the slightest tinge of an accent to it—not American, but a British twang that told me he might have been raised, or at least schooled, abroad. It sounded sophisticated and sexy to me, even if the formality of his speech gave him a cold, detached edge.

But maybe I was projecting what I wanted from him a little bit.

“So tell us what happened,” Dan immediately said as soon as I finished sipping my drink and watching Farid as he gazed at me with the intensity of a hawk. Instead of it being intimidating, it actually felt quite nice.

I looked into his deep, dark brown eyes. His thick eyebrows were knitted together as I told them both all about the night. They listened intently, expressions barely changing between the both of them, quiet except for the occasional shifting from one foot to another and audible sigh.

“I was having some fun. You know, like I always do when I have a free moment out of work…”

Dan nodded. He knew about my proclivities. I didn’t want to say too much in front of this stranger, let alone an investor in the company that Dan and I both worked for. But Farid looked at me with something hidden in those dark, brandy-colored depths when I spoke. When I started, it all came rushing out like an avalanche.

I tried to be as calm as I could while I talked to them. My voice started out even, but my emotions were coming up closer and closer to the surface. After all, I had just cried—and I looked like a mess. I was a mess. With every word I spoke, I felt hurt. Confused. Angry. Scared. But most of all, I felt…damaged.

Because I was hurt—both physically and emotionally, sure—but for some reason, talking about what had happened was opening these other wounds that I had tried so hard to bury. I felt flashes of emotions from other times, other instances, but they all hurt just the same. Times when my heart was crushed, times when people I thought loved me left me, times when I knew I was fucking up but my emotions had taken a hold of me and I was too far gone—they were little snapshots that coalesced into such strong feelings, by the end of it, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was shaking.

I probably said too much. I don’t remember every exact detail of what had come out of my mouth at that point. I was pouring it forth—the sex, the emptiness, the sass I had when I was faced with the knowledge that no matter what I did, I was going to get beaten up—and it flowed like word vomit. By the end of it, Dan was seated right next to me, having pulled up a chair from inside the room to my side, and Farid still stood at the doorway like some kind of bouncer.

I was crying. I was full on ugly sobbing. But honestly, I couldn’t feel judgment in the room at that moment. All I could feel was the gentle pat of Dan’s hand over my shoulder, keeping me aloft.

Who knew such tenderness could come from the guy?

Dan and Farid looked at each other as I slowly tried to gather myself. I reached out to a package of tissues on one side of the room, and Dan was nice enough to hand it to me so that I could use my good hand and pat my face. I winced, because clearly there were wounds there.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“For what?” Dan asked. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry that you had to get stuck with me as a friend and an employee,” I clarified, choking back the bitter laughter that threatened to come out. “I’m a mess.”

“We all are,” Dan said. There wasn’t any judgment in his face, only a carefully impassive expression broken by the tenseness in a few corners. His eyebrows were furrowed, there was tension in his jaw, and it was clear he was trying to bite back his own emotions. “And you’re one of my friends. I trust you. I actually care that things are happening to you.”

“Still, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m taking up too much of your time.”

“By doing what? Getting attacked while coming out of a club? You’re fine, Noah. Let the people around you take care of you,” Dan answered. “The more you apologize, the madder I’ll get at you,” he joked, offering the slightest of smiles.

I smiled right back, but it was a mirthless smile. I didn’t really feel it.

Dan sighed. “Nossa,” he said in exasperation, the Brazilian Portuguese easily flowing out of his lips. “You’re infuriating sometimes, you know that?”

“I know,” I said, offering the slightest of smiles to my friend. “Thank you.”

Dan gave me a confident little smirk. “What are friends for, right?”

I looked back up to Farid. “You too. Thank you.”

Farid tilted his head. He raised a single eyebrow. “For what?” His voice was so deep and rich, and that accent sent a flutter up my stomach.

“I don’t know, if I’m being honest,” I replied. “I just feel a little more secure when you’re around.”

Dan snorted. “I’m not sure you should be saying those things to strangers. Are you still on your pain meds?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Because that could explain why you’re being like this,” Dan said. “But it’ll also soften the blow when I tell you to call your family so they won’t worry about you.”

“Ugh, I forgot about them,” I groaned. When I turned my head upward, Farid was smiling down at me.

I smiled back.

And it was odd—because I actually felt the warmth of my own smile bloom within my chest.