Page 42 of Cross My Heart

And I don’t get him anymore.

Chapter 22

NOAH

26 YEARS OLD

The bars at the Riverwalk are a normal occurrence for me nowadays. Ever since Tyler’s wedding, I’ve been bar-hopping to drown my sorrows. For the first time in months, I’ve allowed myself to go out with friends. I don’t know if it’s a good idea or if I’m even pleasant to be around at the moment, but I have to try. I can’t keep living the way I have—barely catching my breath. Constantly dragging my feet through life, hoping for a time machine. Praying that I’ll wake up at any moment and realize this has all been a nightmare.

But that’s not the case.

This is my life now.

This bar in particular is my favorite. Mostly because it has a food menu, and I can eat something and then continue drinking. I’m not looking to get wasted, instead, I’m looking to have a little bit of lighthearted fun. Maybe even get laid. Which is something I haven’t done in a very long time, out of some misguided sense of loyalty. He’s fucking his wife. So why does it feel like I’m betraying him if I do the same? Why does it feel as if I’m cheating on him when we’re not even together?

I’ve always felt that way though. Waiting for him was never a problem throughout the years. I did it because I wanted to—because I had faith it would pay off. That he would leave her for me. That he would choose me, even when I told him not to. Because if he really loved me like he said, he would’ve left her. He wouldn’t have listened to me. At the end of the day, I wanted him to leave her for himself. Because he wanted to—because he didn’t want to be with her anymore and he couldn’t keep living a lie. But he’s a fucking coward.

There’s a hand on my shoulder as I put the last ball into the pocket of the pool table, then shoot the eight ball. I hold my breath as it travels across the table and into the corner hole, then grin when I win the game. My friends erupt into cheers, and the man I was playing against grins. At least he’s not a sore loser.

I turn around to find Jeremiah Michaels behind me. He was the one holding onto me, and I raise a questioning eyebrow at him when he doesn’t take a step back. He’s crowding my space, and he looks down at my body with a flirty smirk as I take him in. I’m not one to get involved with my coworkers, but I can’t deny he’s appealing in every single way. It’s not that I haven’t noticed him before. It’s just simply that I was unavailable. But that wasbefore. And this is now.

Staring into his beautiful green eyes is certainly not a hardship, and I return the perusal of his body, looking from his face down to his Vans as he doesn’t move a muscle. Letting me stare him down. It’s exhilarating. The first time I have felt something other than sadness in a long time. And when my eyes meet his once more, I’ve decided something. Maybe I can shit where I eat after all. Maybe it would be worth it.

Maybe, just maybe.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” He grins, not bothered at all. His blond hair shines under the seedy bar’s dim lights, and I grin back. “Or are you going to take me home?”

“Are you always this forward?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at him yet again.

“Always,” he replies, nodding, getting closer to me until he’s backed me up against the pool table. “I take what I want,” he whispers in my ear, and I look around to find my friends grinning at me or smirking like fools. They’re probably crossing their fingers for me to get laid, considering I haven’t been that easy to be around lately. They’re probably hoping this will fix me right up. Hell, I’m hoping it will.

“And what do you want?” I ask him, my hand coming to grip his hip tightly as I feel his growing erection against my own hip. It doesn’t take a genius to know exactly what he wants, but since he says he takes what he wants, I want him to say it. To ask for it.

“Take me home.”

“And then?” I lick my lips, and he pulls back to look into my eyes. His own are dilated, and he bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck me.”

“What do you want after?”

I look at him. Really look at him.

He’s beautiful, with his blond hair cut military-style. Green eyes that shine like emeralds, and full, pouty lips that beg to be kissed. He’s built, muscular arms filling his black t-shirt to bursting and his muscular thighs hug his jeans. He’s the polar opposite of Tyler, and he’s looking more appealing by the second. I wouldn’t mind getting him under me. Wouldn’t mind?—

“I wouldn’t mind a repeat or two.” He shrugs. “Or cuddles.”

“Cuddles?” I laugh. “Maybe I’m shit with cuddles.”

“Maybe.” He chuckles. “I still want to find out.”

I nod.

“So what do you say, Milner?” He grabs the back of my neck and leans into me, brushing his lips against mine. Maybe it’s because I’m touch starved, but my stomach flutters at the contact. “Are we leaving?”

“Only if you call me Noah.”

“Noah.” He sizes the name up. “I like that.”

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