Page 64 of Aria

“Fucking hell!” Devon shouted.

Hands pulled at me, but I pushed them away. I was too zoned-out, running on rage and retribution. I wasn’t thinking about consequences. I wasn’t worried about the cameras in my face, or the flock of stunned bystanders. I had no concern for the fact that my bandmates were yelling and swearing, begging me to stop.

The only thing on my mind was making this man suffer.

Blood spurted from Ian’s nose as I continued my furious blows, but it wasn’t long before he managed to gain the upper hand. He landed a hard fist square in my jaw, rendering me momentarily dazed. I tasted the salty trickle of blood in my mouth as Ian flipped us both over, mounting me. I heard a ringing in my ears when another blow connected with my face, my skull striking against the tile floor. I was about to throw another punch when Ian was peeled off of me, his arms flailing, his face unrecognizable from the blood spatter.

“You’re a fuckingdeadman!” Ian threatened. “You are done. Fucking finished. I swear toGod!”

“Your ass is going to jail,” one of the men in Ian’s group added with contempt. “My brother will make sure you rot.”

Drawing up on my elbows, I wiped the blood from my mouth. Miles and Tad were by my side, helping me to me feet as I bit out raggedly to Ian, “Stay away from Chelsie.”

Police cars flew by outside the window, lights flashing and sirens blaring. I glanced at Devon, who seemed to be in his own daze. He was looking back and forth between Ian and me with a mask of confusion… or was it some kind of realization?

“Dude… what the hell, man,” Miles said in frustration. “Do you have any idea the steaming pile of shit you just brought on all of us? What was that?” He tossed a napkin at me, and I held it to my bleeding lip.

Reality sunk its teeth into me. I cursed under my breath, knowing I’d royally fucked up.

As I tried to regain my composure, a group of police officers approached our group.

“I’m pressing charges!” Ian bellowed, pointing right at me. “This asshole jumped me unprovoked. I want his punk ass thrown in jail.”

* * *

My body was riddled with aches and pains from the fight as I stepped through my front door. Devon and I had sent multiple texts to Chelsie with no response, so I assumed she’d fallen asleep.

It was a little after three A.M. and the house was completely dark, save for a dim light glowing from the kitchen. I wasn’t surprised to find Chelsie sound asleep on the couch with a blanket pulled up to her chest… however, Iwasboth startled and charmed to find my son passed out on top of her.

Stepping over to the couch, I studied my favorite people with a slow-blooming smile. Sam rose and fell with each one of Chelsie’s breaths, his little arm dangling over the side of the sofa. A dribble of drool stained the blanket beneath his face. Chelsie was on her back with her head tilted to the side, her palm still resting protectively along his spine.

A feeling of peace swept through me, the evening’s arduous events leaving my mind. My body didn’t hurt, my jaw wasn’t swollen. Ian was a distant memory—or perhaps, he didn’t even exist.

I wasn’t sure. All I could see was Chelsie and Sam, and I allowed myself to imagine a life where this was what I came home to every night.

“Noah?”

I’d been so lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed Chelsie’s eyes flutter open. She lifted her head to see me better in the dark.

“Hey,” I replied softly.

“You’re home…” She tried to sit up, then remembered the extra weight sprawled across her chest. I could make out her small smile through the shadows. “I guess we passed out readingCliffordbooks.”

I leaned over, scooping Sam up as carefully as possible, until he collapsed like a rag doll against me. “Hey, buddy. Off to bed.”

Sam muttered something unintelligible, his eyes never opening.

“Be right back. Sorry I’m so late,” I said to Chelsie, turning to carry Sam to his bedroom. When I returned, Chelsie was sitting up on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket. A lamp had been switched on, illuminating the room and casting attention to the wounds decorating my face.

Chelsie leaped up when she noticed. “Noah? Oh my God…” She ran to me, her hands reaching for my swollen jaw. “Let me see you.”

My eyes closed tight with regret, knowing this could be the last time I felt her touch. Her concern. “Combs, I fucked up,” I whispered in a rushed breath.

I studied her face as curiosity, worry, and confusion flickered in her eyes. She grazed her thumb across my inflamed bottom lip, sending a tremor right through me. It was supposed to be a gesture of tenderness, but it made my dick twitch instead. It took all my willpower not to tug her to my chest and kiss her senseless in the middle of my living room. It took all my strength not to bend her over my couch and ride her hard.

Swallowing, I shooed the intoxicating images away and went against everything my body was telling me. I lowered her hands from my face.

Chelsie chewed her bottom lip, confusion marring her delicate features. “Did I hurt you?”

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