It Was Always Love (Taboo Love Book 2) Page 11

  No one existed for me only him.

  No one existed for him only me.

  We’re in a world of two.

  Until we’re not.

  A shadow cast over Noah’s shoulder and we both turned at the same time to see an ice-blond guy, smiling at Noah. He’s tall, I’d say around six feet even, his hair is boy-band swished off to the left and shaved close to his skull on the right. Dressed as most men are in the restaurant in pants, shirt, and a blazer. Only his was glaring silver and when I looked down I saw pointed wingtips also silver.

  He had diamond white-gold hoops in both ears and a black bar through his eyebrow.

  I’d appreciate his lip gloss but I’m too busy admiring his purple nail polish.

  “Darling.” A voice camp as Christmas announced louder than is deemed appropriate for public. I don’t even care if it’s politically correct. This guy is camp as Christmas and seems to ham it up even more with a jut of his skinny hip and expressive hands. His liveliness and bright eyes were striking.

  He was straight up and down lanky tall and extraordinarily man puppy-pretty.

  “I thought it was you over here! I said to Davis that’s Noah Fierro over there! It’s been a minute since I saw you last. Must be a year or more, right? At Jules’ divorce party. What a sham that was! But enough said about that the better. I was just saying to Davis just the other night how much we adored your new club. I spent a fortune, an absolute fortune on a lap dance for Davis’s birthday from a little cutie by the name of Daniel! He was Cuban, utterly gorgeous and I swear I could bounce quarters off his hiney. So worth it when we got home,” he chortled in a high-pitched voice. “Davis was an animal.”

  So far, I know more about the mysterious Davis than I did ten seconds ago. On cue I scanned the restaurant the same time Noah sent his gaze over to the right and smiled lifting his chin at a guy waving his hand in the air.

  He was built. Like really freaking built. NFL player big with a brush of dark hair like Harry Styles after he’d cut his. And designer stubble that gave him a lumberjack vibe in his sexy burgundy suit.

  Davis the boyfriend was hot.

  “He’d come over but we’re waiting for his mom to get back from the loo. Then we’re heading uptown to a jazz club.” Noah stood, and did that half a bro-hug all men do before retaking his seat. “Sena this blinding sparkle-shit is Gabriel—”

  “Emphasis on the Gay, darling.” He interrupted with an exaggerated pout that made me chuckle as we shook hands.

  “—This is my girl Sena. And the guy waving over there is Gabe’s husband. Sure, you can’t join us for a drink before you go?”

  “Wish we could, but his mom has a hard-on for The Hot Sardines. I’ve already fortified myself with enough rum to endure two hours. Any more and Davis will have to pick me up off the floor. I adore the woman, but gawd.” He poked a finger in his mouth and mocked a gag.

  I’m abruptly conscious of being under the smiling examination of vivid moss-green eyes as they swept from me to Noah who cupped the back of my neck in his territorial way and stroked me gently with his thumb.

  I’m so hyper aware of my skin and it has nothing to do with my previous arousal.

  Gabriel glanced between us silently questioning if Noah meant my girl as in a friend or something else.

  My belly clutched in a tight fist of dread.

  If Noah recognized anything on Gabriel’s face he didn’t let on.

  “So, Davis and I have a wager going,” he grinned like a naughty school boy. His skin flawlessly pale making his glitter gloss pop on his lips. Any other time I’d wonder where Noah knew this guy from.

  But I’m already braced.

  Noah’s thumb continued to caress.

  “We saw y’all kiss and Davis said you’re on a date and I said no way. You’re gayer than me, darling!”

  I don’t think anyone could be gayer than this guy, but whatever.

  Noah’s face relaxed. No sign of irritation.

  Me. I’m dying inside.

  It’s my greatest fear, isn’t it? Standing in a silver fucking suit and asking outright what we are.

  The guy wasn’t being malicious. If anything, he’s playful when he added; “don’t tell me you’ve acquired yourself a beard to keep the twinks away, darling.”

  He chuckled like he landed on the answer.

  Because who else would I be?

  Color rushed to every part of my face. A shudder of cold rippled down my spine. Noah’s hand tightened momentarily on my nape. I lowered my eyes from Gabriel and breathed.

  While on one hand I want to tell him to go fuck himself, it’s none of his business who Noah was kissing and certainly not his right to question us about it. On the other hand, his confusion felt justified.

  We are all curious animals after all.

  “Sena is mine.” I heard the proud smile in Noah’s voice.

  He’s not fazed by the interrogation at all.

  The gasp that came from Gabriel is over the top and loud.

  So, fucking loud it brought attention our way.

  “No. Fucking. Way!” He cackled in a delighted tinkle of noise. “Noah fucking Fierro gone straight? I just lost twenty fucking dollars.”

  I’d heard enough. I can’t cope. I’m out of my chair. “I need the restroom. Excuse me.” I don’t meet either of their eyes. Noah rose, too, as a gentleman. “Kitten?” I didn’t miss his concern. I think I smiled or something, I don’t know what my face was doing.

  I just need out of there.

  His eyebrows bunched in the middle and he reached out for me, but I brushed it off. “I won’t be a minute.” I croaked and cleared my voice. “It was nice to meet you, Gabriel. Enjoy the jazz.”

  I didn’t catch what he said in return, I’d already taken off with fast steps.

  I didn’t look back though I sense Noah’s eyes on me.

  I’m too agitated inside.

  Suddenly our bubble we’d created has been invaded with the truth of what every single friend of Noah’s will say once they know he has a girlfriend.

  And Oh, god. Bile lingered into my throat.

  There’s no way I can deal with the gut compressing sickness every time we have to say to someone that I’m his girlfriend.

  To be presented as his and watch that faint amusement cross someone’s face assuming he’s joking around and then the alarmed reality of them understanding.

  It’s fucking humiliating.

  I’m mortified standing by the row of gold faucet sinks in the restroom. My hands prop to the porcelain, head bent, I just try to breathe as I recap that whole conversation.

  What a joke. They even bet on us.

  I don’t want to go out there. I don’t want to walk back into their conversation of how hilarious it is Noah is fucking a woman.

  All my insecurities haul ass back into my brain.

  I pass some time by peeing and washing my hands. After a few minutes of processing my thoughts a woman walked in and smiled at me. She’s dressed like a waitress. Her hair neatly piled on top of her head in a tight bun. Clothes were black and white as you’d expect on a server.

  “Hi, Are you Sena?”

  I frowned. “Eh. Yeah.”

  “There’s a concerned guy out there, he asked me to check you were okay in here. He almost came in himself,” she grinned. “He’s so fierce looking. I don’t think he cared if it was packed full of naked women in here.”

  My heart softened.

  “Thanks. I’m on my way out now.”

  “You’re so lucky. My boyfriend would leave me in the bathroom all night as long as he had a bucket of wings and beer in front of him.”

  Noah’s resting on the wall with his eyes on the door when I exited. He pushed off and came to me directly. He cupped my cheeks and kissed the tip of my nose, my forehead, my jaw and lastly my lips. “I’m sorry he upset you.”

  “I’m fine.” I whispered.

  “Sena. Look at me.” His voice was no less strong, but his softness mel
ted me. Blues meet Hazels. He kept a gentle grip on my face.

  He kissed me again. “He was a fucking idiot. Ignore him. What he thinks doesn’t matter.”

  Instead of alleviating my worry it’s only heightened. What he thinks doesn’t matter. Leading me to believe Gabriel said something more once I’d left the table.

  “What did he say?” I need to know. Nothing good ever comes from morbid curiosity my momma would say. I can’t help myself.

  “I put him in his place. And he’s sorry for upsetting you, kitten.”

  I deflated. That told me a whole lot of nothing. “I want to know.”

  “You knew we’d get unwanted remarks. It’s nothing, kitten. Gabriel is one of the biggest gossips, he’ll let everyone know who I am with, so you won’t have to endure that again. He’s harmless and his mouth often engages long before his brain does. If he’d known his thoughtless words would embarrass you he never would have joked.”

  I didn’t notice he had our coats until he held mine out for me to slip my arms into. “I paid already. I assumed you’d want to go home.”

  Now I feel like a tool for ruining our night which had been perfect up until ten minutes ago. I sighed. He kissed me again. “I got your desserts wrapped up.” Just that thoughtfulness flittered a smile across my lips and this time I kissed him.

  The same waitress who came looking for me passes us by and dreamily sighed watching us.

  I wish that was the reaction of everyone who encountered us in couple mode. Envious and joyful to see a happy couple sharing a loving kiss.

  I wished no one knew us at all so when they met us we didn’t get the third degree.

  But I know, Gabriel might have been the first.

  But he won’t be the last.

  My insecurities are lining up.

  Awaiting the next fallout.

  ELEVEN

  There’s a kind of charm in ignoring your own problems to focus on someone else’s. It’s a lie. Obviously and one that will ultimately, in my case at least, be faced at some point.

  But over the next few days I allowed the charm of my head buried in the sand to continue.

  I slept over at Noah’s several times and one night he came to find me at my apartment after he’d finished while I’m asleep.

  It’s a nice feeling to have him slide into my bed and cuddle me and whereas I’m in my own lie of pretending I don’t have any worries or fears creeping back in I enjoyed us. I enjoyed us a lot.

  It’s only when I’m in between either being with Noah or working that my mind takes over.

  I can’t help it. I seem to be a worrier. Who knew? I get it from my momma, who is so much better than me at these emotional issues. I wished I could talk to her. I even consider calling her and telling her everything but when I do I ended up asking a bunch of dumb questions about the family and her gardening and what happened on the last cookout at the fire station.

  “I can pick you up,” Noah informed. His voice scratchy from sleep. He didn’t get home until nearly dawn and while he slept I crawled out of his bed, drank two mint teas, grabbed my ginger flavored lollipops and went across town to a bakery who wanted an overhaul doing on their computers with a comprehensive new filing system for the input and output of stock setting up.

  It was straight forward work.

  The unconcerned tone in his otherwise sleep-heavy voice meant Noah had no idea I’ve been in my own head for days.

  I kept going back to that look Gabriel gave us in the restaurant.

  Like the biggest shock of his life was seeing Noah with a woman.

  Noah probably could have cut up a waiter with a butter knife and it wouldn’t have elicited more shock than it did seeing him kiss me.

  I can’t stop thinking about his stunned expression.

  Why the fuck am I obsessing over the opinion of a man I don’t even know?

  I hefted my bag onto my shoulder and jaywalked across the street to where I’m meeting India for lunch. “I’m good to get home later, Noah. I thought you had that meeting in a few hours?”

  About the restaurant with Tom the dick of all douches.

  “I can still come for you. You shouldn’t be out in the cold.”

  His sweetness buzzed my insides and still I found myself inexplicably snappy. “I’m a big girl,” I’m a block away from the café. I’m in coffee withdrawal. When someone knocked my shoulder, I growled instead of my usual smile.

  “Sena…”

  He meant he doesn’t want his baby out in the cold. The same baby I keep forgetting existed, if not for all the throwing up I probably would.

  Some baby incubator I’m making.

  I sighed. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Go buy restaurants, lion. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  I can tell he wanted to say things by the length of silence he leaves it before telling me okay and to be safe.

  Fuck this day. I’m going to have chocolate for lunch. Surely pregnant women can have all the calories. I’m going to get fat anyway.

  It can’t only be me that's going through existential calamity in this world.

  Of course not. Their shit is real, there's real troubles going on and here I am on selfish island of one emotionally drained woman.

  It’s not as though I don't care, I do.

  I give to charities, I volunteer, albeit usually when I'm back home in Beaufort. Never here, I realize. The city is too big and too self-absorbed. It’s a giant pulse of selfishness. For a city that never sleeps it only truly shows its care when a disaster happens. It all soon fizzles out once the media leave, when life gets back to normal. We all go back to our own selfish islands to obsess over trivial things that don’t matter in the grand scheme and yet we are consumed.

  I’m absorbed in my own head.

  I spotted a homeless man a few minutes later and once I’ve safely guided myself across the street I met him with a smile as he sat on his row of cardboard wearing two coats and a raggedy torn hat.

  I smiled again and handed him forty bucks. He gave me a grin and told me thank you. I hoped he bought food.

  It should make me feel better. That’s why we give isn't it? The real charitable truth, to make us feel better about our self-centred ways so we can check some invisible box and get back to our self-absorbed lives.

  I’m still thinking about it when I enter Little Dollies café.

  I take a tentative sniff of the air. Checking if I’m good with the food scents.

  I smell caffeine right away.

  I chose a table the furthest point away from the counter just on the safe side while I finished my hard lemon candy.

  “I’d like to say you’re glowing, mama. But you look like you’ve been sleeping under a bridge with trolls. What gives? Your hubby not taking care of his baby-mama?” Asked India once she joined me and we each ordered a pink lemonade and a diet cola.

  A snort left my mouth. India was never one to pull her punches.

  Having come right from the office she's still in her work clothes. A gorgeous pin stripe knee length skirt, with a fitted red blouse to match both lips and nails and her blonde hair, a shade darker than ice white is in messy waves hanging loose around her shoulders. She's so delicately put together on her small frame I felt a touch trollish in her shadow.

  “Noah is fine.”

  She flipped me that don’t bullshit me glance.

  “Really. Everything is good. Let’s order and we can catch up.”

  We ordered sandwiches and chocolate drizzled scones. I told her most of everything since I last saw her, leaving out my stupid uncertainties. There’s no point in sharing those when they don’t make sense even to me. I don’t want to sound senile. Noah doesn’t give me cause for concern. This is all on me.

  “And what about my godchild. How is she?”

  Shit. Again, the first topic of conversation on my mind is not the baby. Seriously. How shitty of a parent am I going to be? I have big worries about that now. “That’s going fine, too. Besides throwing up. Noah has th
e nursey started with an interior designer coming out soon to size up one of the spare bedrooms in his penthouse.”

  Her perfectly shaped brows curved with intrigue. We’re both wolfing down the food. “So, you’re moving into the shag-pad? That’s official, my southern beauty. I think I like your hubby’s style.”

  “Noooo.” I insisted. “Well. We haven’t discussed it. But we’re in the same building, so it doesn’t matter, right?”

  Does it?

  It’s only in the last couple of days once we decided to tell our parents I’m pregnant since I’m heading towards my second trimester that he mentioned about the nursey.

  I hadn’t given it a thought until then if we’d live together.

  “Girl, you need to lock that down.”

  I hastily changed the subject when the scones are brought to the table with sweet honey butter for slathering. It’s just like home and I eat three in quick succession.

  “What about you? Any dates lately?”

  She sighed like she hated life then she half grinned. “I swear all the decent men have vacated the building. This guy at work, he’s in marketing, a real Ryan Reynolds type. I thought there was something there. I saw him a few times. He was no Casanova in the sheets, let me tell you, he was more of a taker than a giver. But he made me laugh.” I showed my amusement while biting into a fluffy pastry. God. Everything tasted so good again now I could eat and enjoy.

  “So, he got kicked to the curb. I have no time to teach a man how to work my body and helllooooo…. who is that tall drink of water staring over here at you, Sena?”

  I swerved to where both her eyeline and saucy smile landed intently to see Gray Ellison entering the café with a briefcase in one hand and his specs in another.

  I smiled and waved.

  “Holy shit, you know this guy?” She whispered sitting up straighter.

  “I do some computer work for him.” Gray returned both smile and wave with the hand holding his specs which he then hooked into the top of his V-neck sweater.

  India shamelessly ogled the older guy while he waited in line.

  “Invite him over.” She hissed kicking me under the table.

  “What? And ouch!”