Page 96 of Splintered Hearts

Shoving Hunter away, something I will apologize for later, blood sprays. Josh cries out, crumpling, holding his nose. Blood gushes onto my deck. “What the fuck!” he screams. “You’re going to jail!”

Fury rolls through me, but I’m not worried about that. I look around but Noah is gone. “I think game night is over,” Xavi whispers.

“I’m pressing charges!”

“No you aren’t.” Mark surprises me, passing me a look, and inthis moment we finally find common ground. “You press charges and I’ll be telling Liam you’re fucking around.”

“You don’t even know him!” Blood seeps through his fingers.

“Social media, dickhead. Not hard to find him. Now get the fuck out before I add a black eye to that mess.”

“You’re all fucking insane.” Josh spits blood on my shoe before leaving down the porch steps.

“I need to find Noah.” Mark runs his fingers through his blond hair.

“No.” Hunter tugs Mark against him, into his arms. “We’re going home.”

“I need to check on him.”

Hunter’s eyes meet mine before looking back at his boyfriend. “He’ll be okay. We need to go home.”

Mark looks at me again, and I see it for what it is.

An olive branch.

Make sure Noah’s okay.

Gladly.

With everyone gone, a plan comes to mind. I glance at Noah’s door, still closed, and walking through the kitchen to the back porch, the night air greets me. Fall is my favorite time of year and I’m eager for the summer heat to end. Give me cool weather any day of the week. It’s a nice night tonight, the stars clear overhead. Grabbing one of the chairs, I prop up the giant canvas I grabbed from the attic.

Not like she’s using it.

Grabbing paper bowls, I pour paints of various colors into them. They’re old, but they’ll work for what I need.

With everything set up I go back into the house, going to Noah’s door again and knocking. “Can I come in please?”

Finally, I hear his voice. “Come in.”

I open the door slowly, and see Noah sitting at his makeshiftvanity. His face is now bare and he’s putting lotion on his legs. “Hey.” While Noah looked stunning tonight, seeing him like this—relaxed, pink crop top and black shorts—it makes me smile.

“Are you alright?”

“Best I’ve ever been,” Noah mumbles, rubbing lotion on his thighs. Shutting his door softly, I sit on his bed. Hunter might have lived here, but Noah has truly made it his. I love how soft his comforter feels. Liked it more when I was under it with Noah’s arms around me.

Hunter kept this place pretty bare bones, but Noah has decorated it. There’s so much personality to it now. Shimmery curtains. A sheer canopy over his bed. A decorated mirror that Bri had helped him with after he found it at a thrift store. There’s a book sale at the library every month, and Noah’s room bursts with the evidence. Stacks and stacks of books line his walls. I need to hurry with that shelf.

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’m really sorry for your hand.” That makes him laugh a bit. “I should be used to it.”

“No, you shouldn’t be.”

“I asked for it.”

“No, you didn’t. No one should be treated that way.”

“Not even cheap twinks?” He tries to laugh it off.

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