by Kat T. Masen
“I didn’t come with her.” I smile through my teeth as Scarlett watches us. “She tagged along with Charlie and Lex.”
“I need to go… a work thing has come up.” Morgan storms off before I have the chance to question her behavior.
Scarlett takes the opportunity to introduce me to some friends. They are actors, and I recognize them from some action films.
I look around again and can’t find Morgan, so I begin to move through the crowd to where everyone’s sitting. Charlie’s the first to react, her eyes spinning with stars. Kate’s no different, squealing like an overly hormonal teenager. Lex is more reserved, keeping his expression to nothing more than a polite smile. I know him well enough to know he wouldn’t react with enthusiasm in front of Charlie, or she’ll drag him by the balls back home.
Scarlett says hello to everyone, keeping her conversation friendly and laid back. Haden and Presley can’t help themselves, talking about work and the progress of the book. I haven’t found Morgan again, pulling Scarlett to the side.
“Where’s Morgan?”
“Probably doing business somewhere,” she brushes me off.
She continues to chat with Charlie and Kate for a few more minutes before she has to leave to do some press interviews.
“Can you believe that,” Kate exclaims with such awe. “She’s so beautiful. Flawless even.”
“I know,” Charlie follows. “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”
Lex hides his smirk behind his drink.
Haden’s quick to comment, “I believe you’ve just been invited to a threesome.”
Both Lex and I laugh, annoying the girls.
“You know what, Haden?” Presley says, annoyed. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Perhaps,” he says through a satisfied grin. “A jealous jerk.”
“Oh, sure,” she teases sarcastically. “You guys are all talk. I’d love to have a threesome… blah, blah, blah… but I bet if it came down to it, you’d freak out.”
I don’t involve myself in this conversation. I’ve had threesomes and never freaked out. Quite the opposite, actually. Lex remains tight-lipped, but Haden has to weigh in, of course, because the two of them continuously argue.
“Really? You think I’d freak out?” he challenges Presley.
She nods her head. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, then… bring it on.”
“So, you don’t mind another guy being in bed with us?” she asks with a sarcastic smirk lingering on her face.
Haden doesn’t take the joke lightly, his nostrils flaring like a wild beast. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
We laugh as they continue to goad each other, and I only break away when Morgan’s by my side. She appears worried but quickly puts on a smile, saying hello to everyone, including Kate. I ask her for a moment in private, taking her outside and around the corner, ready to question the goddamn mood swings giving me whiplash.
There’s no one here except for a few passing by. The urge—unable to withhold—consumes me while I pull her into me and kiss her soft lips. She parts them evenly, allowing my tongue to meet with hers while they battle in a frenzy. My hands move of their own accord, sliding around to her back, which is exposed. Her skin is warm with tiny goosebumps forming the deeper I kiss her.
Out of breath and panting heavily, she whispers, “Noah, I think we need to talk.”
I place my lips on hers again, not wanting to talk but instead taste her.
She pulls back, this time with a slight force. “Noah, please listen to me.”
“I’m listening,” I half say, buried in the crook of her neck. “You’re so beautiful.”
She places her hands firmly on my chest. Her expression remains fixed, then pleads with me to stop.
I don’t know why I listen. Maybe because that’s what you’re supposed to do in a relationship. Or at least that’s what I think you should do. I know I’m not thinking straight. I’ve missed her, yet I’m angry about the way she stormed out earlier this afternoon.
“Can we talk tonight? After the party?”
I run my finger along her cheek, watching her eyes close for a brief moment only to flicker wide open seconds later.
“Noah, please stop touching me and listen to what I’m saying,” she demands, distancing herself from me.
My bruised ego has had enough.
This is fucking bullshit.
“I’m listening, Morgan, because it’s the only thing I can do,” I bellow in frustration. “I can’t fucking see you whenever I want. You won’t let me see your place. You don’t want Scarlett to know about us. For some reason, you can’t get it through your head that Kate is a good friend. What else are you going to request? That I place a fucking paper bag over my head while I’m in the same room as you?”
The hurt and pain mixed with anger reflect back at me. Perhaps I’ve gone too far, but I never claimed to be a saint or a patient one at that.
“You see, this here is why you’ll never understand,” she says with a sick laugh.
I don’t even comment. Walking away, I leave her behind. This whole thing has become drama after drama, and I don’t do drama.
Back inside, the party’s only just starting. A famous band is playing on stage. Everywhere you look, celebrities are surrounding us—some with their significant others, and the rest mingling in the crowd.
Charlie and Lex are on the dance floor along with Haden and Presley. Kate is standing at the bar, conversing with some old dude. She looks over to me, pleading with her eyes to rescue her from the situation she’s found herself in. I casually walk over and rest my arm over her shoulder in desperate need of a drink.
“Oh, would you look at who’s arrived?” she says with a fake smile. “It’s my boyfriend. Going on five years tonight. Definitely going to be celebrating all night long if you know what I mean?”
Winking at the old man, he seems to back off, excusing himself rather quickly. “He knew what you meant,” I tell her. “The whole room knew what you meant.”
“Why the foul mood, Mason? You’re such a Debbie Downer tonight.”
I’m about to open my mouth when I notice Morgan standing behind me. Kate is quick to say hello, and in typical Morgan style she acts like a fucking bitch, returning a forced smile.
“I should probably go,” Kate says cautiously. “Over there.” She points randomly into the crowd, but Morgan stops her.
“Why don’t you stay for this? Apparently, Noah has all the time in the world for you but doesn’t have a few minutes to listen to me,” she notes with dark amusement.
Kate purses her lips, unsure of what to say or do.
I don’t understand what the fuck Morgan’s problem is, quick to defend Kate’s and my relationship again. “Ignore her, Kate. Wicked bitch from the West is back,” I say out loud, never breaking her gaze.
Morgan looks stunned, her mouth slightly open with her eyes narrowing. If the music quieted down, I am sure you’d be able to hear her teeth grinding. She looks livid. And I know I’m in for the biggest fight of my life. The storm is looming, and it’s about to strike.
“We’re so done, Noah.”
I no longer care, fed up with the ridiculous games she plays.
“Great girlfriend material,” I mention sarcastically. “At least I can say I tried a relationship. Definitely not for me.”
Folding her arms with her chest rising and falling rapidly, she says, “You assumed I’m your girlfriend. As you assumed we’re in a relationship.”
That fucking hurt.
Bitch.
She moves toward me, closing the distance between us. I stare into her eyes, hoping that for just a moment, this is a petty fight. But her eyes are cold, so cold that the woman behind them isn’t the Morgan I’ve grown to love. Her lips brush against my ear, and in the sweetest of voices, she whispers, “I was only looking for a rebound, Noah.”
Like ice hitting my skin, I freeze. Paralyzed by the malicious intent of her words, she pulls away from
me and begins walking in the opposite direction. I stare into the crowd, vacant and without any emotion. The fire inside my belly is stirring, building into a fit of rage as her words sink in.
The fucking bitch!
Kate warns me to calm down, witnessing the whole encounter. I push her out of the way, scanning the room in an attempt to hunt down Morgan. She’s gone.
The crowd has grown, and willingly, I turn around and motion for the bartender to serve me.
“Noah,” Kate warns me again.
I don’t listen.
I’m done with women.
Slamming the shot down, I demand another. After four in a row, my nerves seem calmer. I head back to our table. Charlie and Lex are too touchy-feely for my liking.
“Fucking get a room already,” I yell at them, mid-shot.
Haden’s no better. For someone I work with, he has no problem practically groping Presley under the table. I’ve been with enough women to know that he’s either brushing his fingers against her clit or fingering her under the table. Either way, I need to leave.
My only problem—I shouldn’t have drunk so much because I’m too intoxicated to drive.
When Kate strolls over, I wrap my arms around her and tell her how beautiful she is. I can always rely on Kate. I should never have allowed Morgan to make me believe otherwise.
“Okay,” she says plainly. “What do you want?”
“I need a ride,” I tell her, kissing the top of her hand.
She pulls it away. “Do I have ‘Uber’ written on my forehead?”
“No. You have ‘horny woman who needs to get laid by Zac Efron’ written on your forehead.”
She nods her head, agreeing. I manage to convince her. She’s also eager to leave the couples to get on with their business.
“Take me to Scarlett’s place,” I demand, slurring.
“Why?”
“I need to talk to her.”
Lies. I want to fuck her to forget. That would be the final nail in this fucked-up coffin called our relationship. Morgan would be hurt, and payback would sure be sweet right about now.
“But you’re drunk, Noah, and upset,” she reminds me, starting the engine. “What do you need to talk about?”
“Just do it. Okay?”
Kate lets out an annoyed huff before taking off.
It’s late, and the traffic is moving nicely down the freeway. Kate turns up the radio, playing some Katy Perry song. She hums along, distracted by her own thoughts until I startle her.
“Fuck!” I shout.
“What?” she responds, panicked, trying to look over.
“My cell died.”
She rolls her eyes, ignoring my first-world problem and driving up the windy street until we reach Scarlett’s home. For most of the ride, she tries to convince me not to go, but also knows me well enough to drop the subject after I basically tell her to fuck off.
The security guard calls through and opens the gates, allowing me in. When we reach the top of the drive, Scarlett comes out with a concerned look on her face, eyeing our surroundings.
“Hey,” I smirk, stumbling out of the car.
“Didn’t you get my text? I also tried to call you,” she says in a high-pitched voice.
“My phone died at…”
In the corner of my eye, behind the large tree, I see Morgan’s Mercedes. “Morgan’s here?”
I walk toward the house, ignoring Scarlett’s plea to stop. I don’t want Scarlett. And maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I have to apologize in person to Morgan and tell her I fucking love her.
Because I do.
She’s nowhere to be seen, so I move toward the patio where I see an outdoor fire pit and guests sitting on chairs. Scarlett calls my name in a panic, demanding to know what I’m doing. Then, I see her. She’s sitting on a chair, laughing with a glass of wine in her hand.
I step outside, and the second she sees me, her face drops. Pained and pleading for me to understand, she remains silent, not saying my name. I’m confused, and I look behind me where Kate stands and Scarlett’s biting her nails.
“Noah,” Scarlett says, pulling my arm back.
There’s a man, roughly my height, wearing a knitted sweater and dark blue jeans. He has a bottle of beer in his hand, and next to him sits a boy about Amelia’s age with Max.
He stands, extending his hand. “You must be Noah. Scarlett and Morgan have spoken quite fondly of your work.”
I should be flattered, but my confusion only stems further. “Thank you. And you are?”
“I’m Wyatt, Morgan’s husband, and this is our son, Michael.”
The core of my insides stiffens, and the echo I hear is only that of my heart being torn into shreds. The muscles inside my neck strain to remain composed, my posture demanding I fall over at any moment. But throughout the pain that’s currently crippling my every move, I twist my head to meet Morgan’s eyes.
“Noah,” she pleads.
I rip my arm away from Scarlett’s grip, trying not to lash out in front of the kid, but my tongue is tied, no words or sounds can be spoken. I want to die. Throw me into the pool and let me sink to the bottom. And then I remember her words. The ones that tore me apart more than I could ever have possibly imagined.
I was her rebound.
And standing in front of me is the person she was running from—her husband.
I latch onto Kate’s arm and pull her through the house, ignoring my name being called. Pushing through the glass door, I stomp toward the car, getting in the driver’s seat and roaring the engine to life.
“Noah, calm down,” Kate begs, motioning for me to get out of the driver’s seat. “You can’t drive. The last thing you need is a DUI on record.”
I tell her to get in and shut the fuck up, my anger fueling me to leave this place and everyone behind. There’s banging on the window, Morgan desperate for me to open, but I refuse. Placing the car into gear and slamming my foot on the accelerator, I kick up stones as I drive down the hill, almost taking out a few statues.
“Where are you going?” Kate cries, holding onto the handle while I skid out of the property.
“Anywhere but here.”
KATE
“Noah, you need to stop.”
We’ve only driven out the gate and a few houses down before I manage to get him to stop, so I can take the wheel.
A whirlwind of emotions blurs my rational thoughts, still reeling at the sight of Morgan with her family—her husband and son.
His eyes are the first to react, stunned with a hurt glaze while he momentarily pieces the puzzle inside his head. My eyes are immediately drawn to his fists curled up against his side, and almost like I throw myself into battle mode, I do my best to prepare myself for a physical altercation.
The tension of his muscles is evident, and his inability to think clearly soon follows.
He’s in a world of pain.
And I have no choice but to comfort him as he has done for me.
His anger becomes an explosion of rage, but I don’t have a death wish. Drunk Noah behind the wheel isn’t how I want our lives to end.
With my hands firmly on the wheel, at least controlling our lives for just this moment, I ask him where he wants to go. He refuses to go home, needing to let off steam and not wanting Charlie all up in his business. So, we settle for a bar not too far from the strip. Maybe, with more alcohol in him, he will pass out rather than go on some sort of angered spree.
But like the idiot I am, I began to drink—subconsciously trying to do the same. Forget certain feelings because they aren’t worthy of holding my attention anymore. After my second drink, I decide to stop. One of us needs to be responsible, and it sure isn’t going to be Noah.
“I don’t need to do anything…” he slurs, dipping his hand into the peanut bowl and eating the urine infested nuts. “Oh, these taste crunchy with a slight tang.”
I motion for the bartender to stop serving us, and he happily obliges, warning me several times t
o calm Noah down or my ass will be on the pavement. Fucking wanker.
“She’s fucking married, Kate… and with a kid,” he shouts for the millionth time.
“I know, Noah. I was there.”
“Married with a kid,” he repeats, running his hands through his hair as he closes his eyes. “It makes sense, all of it. I’m so dumb. I was too caught up to see what was really going on. I’m just some secret affair to her.”
“I don’t think it’s just that, Noah. Maybe there’s more—”
“Wait, you’re defending her?” He turns his head swiftly, eyes blazing at me.
“No,” I say, raising my hands in frustration. “I’m not defending her, but maybe there’s something missing here. She doesn’t strike me as someone who would have an affair and jeopardize her family.”
“Yeah, and you don’t strike me as someone who enjoys lesbian anal fisting,” he says, monotone.
My mouth gapes open, and I quickly try to cover it up. “What makes you think that?”
“I accidentally saw it on your phone when my battery died yesterday. I needed to check the Lakers score.”
I cough, beet red, unable to speak clearly. “It was for research purposes.”
“That’s what they all say. I’m not judging you. If you want to get fisted in your ass by another girl, then so be it. And, hey…” he says with a devilish smile, “… I’m free now, so I’ll book courtside tickets.”
“Ha-ha,” I respond sarcastically. “Stop saying ‘fisted.’ It’s weird. Besides, it stemmed from a conversation with Eric.”
“Let’s go home,” I say, defeated, wondering how I can drag him to the car.
“Only if you’ll fuck me.”
From the moment Noah and I met, we had this connection. We grooved so effortlessly, making it comfortable for us to be ourselves. We gave it just as hard as we received it. But somewhere over the last two weeks, something has shifted between us.
There was a moment, beside me in my bed, when this line we both agreed needed to stay between us, suddenly obscured.
I saw him differently.
And craved him immensely.
I blame my insecurities and a broken heart for latching onto what I thought was more. So, I pulled away in the best interests for both of us. It’s obvious to see Noah has developed strong feelings for Morgan, scared by his own journey into uncharted territory.
