Page 10 of Saving Noah

Chapter 4

The fog lifted slowly, luring him back into the land of the living, but Noah kept his eyes closed and tried to block out the real world. He fought it for all he was worth because he didn’t want to face what had happened. If he stayed locked inside his drug-induced nap, he wouldn’t have to admit to himself he’d succumbed to a panic attack, leading to him being taken to the hospital and away from his safe zone. Locked inside his mind, with his eyes tightly clenched together, he wouldn’t have to face the fact he’d woken up with his beautiful neighbor looking down at him, smiling at him for the first time ever, and then the edges of his world had crumbled again. In front of said beautiful neighbor. Panic attack number two. Those lured potential lovers into your bed like cheese led mice to getting their necks snapped. Not.

The smile had disappeared as Zach watched him come undone.

It wasn’t like he’d ever really thought there could be anything between him and his hot neighbor, but he’d hoped to at least keep his crazy hidden from the man. Zach normally looked at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe—he’d take that over pity. He hated pity. Hell, when he looked into the mirror, he saw pity in his own eyes; he didn’t need to see it in the eyes of the man he lusted after.

Cameron called him a scaredy-cat. He supposed the nickname, although harsh and borderline cruel, fit better than some of the ones he’d called himself.

He forced those thoughts from his mind; they didn’t do any good. Getting mad at himself never helped anything. It didn’t make him braver. It didn’t make him stronger. Pep talks didn’t magically grant him the courage to leave his safe zone. Cruel lectures on how utterly stupid he acted never resulted in him finding the balls to pass through the front door of his apartment building and step out into the sun. Everybody else who lived in the apartment building did it every day and nothing bad happened to them. They wouldn’t even hesitate when they reached the automatic double doors. Never breaking stride, they would be on his side and then the other, leaving him behind. Every. Damned. Day.

Yet, he couldn’t do it. Hell, he couldn’t even open the heavy black curtains in his apartment and look outside, much less step out onto his balcony. He was terrified of his own shadow. Cameron might be a cruel bastard, but he had Noah pegged.

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was back in his apartment. The smells were familiar. The mattress beneath him was the same one he rested on every night. Everything was exactly what it was supposed to be. Well, except for the fact he wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t Cameron. His friend would be bitching at him to wake up and quit wasting his time.

The heavy footsteps and breathing sounded like a man instead of a woman. While he might not have been totally awake, he’d been awake enough to know the man had been there with him since he’d become aware enough to realize he was no longer out of his safe zone, but safely back in his apartment. Sometimes the man moved around in the apartment, but mostly he sat at his bedside. A few times, he’d heard the man opening his kitchen cabinets and refrigerator, but the majority of his time had been spent tapping away on a laptop.

He should be terrified to wake up and find a stranger inside his safest of safe zones. His body should be prepping for panic attack number three. Sweet oxygen shouldn’t be flowing through his lungs and his heart shouldn’t be beating at a regular thump, thump pace. But none of that happened, which was strange. Well, shit. His heart fluttered at his next thought.

His neighbor. Zachary. The guy he’d lusted after on a damned regular basis. A doctor. No…thedoctor. Zachary, hot neighbor, object of his lust was the doctor who’d witnessed his mental breakdown.

A doctor? Who would have thought it? He’d pegged his neighbor for a lot of things but the idea he might be a physician hadn’t entered his mind. Zach’s body, all tattooed and bulging muscles, looked more like that of a MMA fighter or professional athlete. Maybe a porn star. He’d definitely been the star of all the porn scenes Noah’s mind had created.

Why was he there? More importantly, why wasn’t Noah afraid?

“I know you’ve been awake for a while now, John,” a deep voice said, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you keeping your eyes closed because you’re afraid of me? Are you okay with me being inside your apartment? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, John, but more than that, I don’t want you being alone right now.” The voice, sexier than a voice had the right to be, was so close to him.

Noah knew all he had to do was open his eyes and tilt his head slightly to his left and Zach would be right there. Right. Fucking. There. In his apartment. Really fucking close to his bed. If he were stronger, he could reach out, give Zach a good yank, and tumble him right into bed with him.

He wasn’t stronger. Nor, of course, did he have the balls to do something so bold and brave. On the outside looking in, someone might call him a coward. On the inside looking out, Noah felt like a total badass because he wasn’t hyperventilating from one of his many unexplained fears. It was that badass feeling that gave him the courage to go ahead and open his eyes. Everything was foggy or blurry for a few brief seconds before he could focus in on Zachary’s face. Instead of his usual scowl, he sported a friendly smile as he looked down at Noah.

Noah took a deep breath…just to prove to himself and Doctor Zach he could, and answered, “I’m not afraid of you.”

Noah sounded fragile, which pissed him off. He might be mentally weak, but his body was strong. He didn’t have another damned thing to do with his day except to work out in the gym.

“Good. I want you to feel safe with me. Is it okay I’m here?” Zachary leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as he talked with Noah. Everything about his body language screamed, “Easy, easy,” like trying to not scare a timid animal.

Noah tried for a shrug. “Sure. Why not? I guess I can’t hide my crazy anymore, huh?”

An angry frown marred Zach’s beautiful face, and he responded quickly. “Don’t talk like that, John. You aren’t crazy. Your friend told me you suffer from agoraphobia. That doesn’t make you crazy by any means.”

“Don’t call me that,” Noah snapped irritably. When he realized what he’d said, he gasped in surprise. He’d never once even considered telling anyone his real name, not since the day he’d received his new identity. With Zachary, hehadto hear the man call him by his real name, not the coward named John Doe.

“Call you what?” Zachary asked, his eyebrows pushing together in apparent confusion.

Noah realized what he was about to say would probably only validate his craziness to Zachary, but it was still something he wanted to do. Hell, Zach probably wouldn’t even believe the next words out of his mouth. “John. Don’t call me John. It’s not my name.”

Zachary’s lips did a funny little smirk before he said, “Your name really isn’t John Doe? Surely you jest. It’s a common enough name.” He kept grinning as if he were having fun. “You know, I told myself you didn’t look like a John. Was I right or are you just messing with me?”

Telling people his real name wasn’t safe. Well, except, being with Zachary made him feel safe for the first time in four years. Did that make any sense? Hell no, it didn’t. Did he care? Not one damned bit.

Warning bells gonged inside his head, signaling how close he skirted to the edge of making a fool of himself. If he lost his shit in front of Zachary again, he could forget ever seeing his sexy smile directed at him. Why had he brought up the fact John wasn’t his real name? He should’ve known it might trigger a flight or fight response. In his case, it was always flight…never fight. Right then, he needed to fly away, and he knew exactly what would help him accomplish the task.

“I…I need my pills,” he wheezed out to Zachary. “It’s about to happen again. I need my pills.” He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness slowed him down, and Zach’s strong hand pushing against his chest stopped him altogether.

“Easy, tiger,” Zach warned softly as he continued to push Noah back onto the bed. “Don’t try to get up. Not yet. You hit your head earlier and had to get a few stitches. That along with the sedative I gave you at the hospital will make you dizzy. I’ll get them for you. Where are they?” Zachary’s muscular build left little doubt as to his ability to manhandle Noah, but the hand against his chest remained gentle. When his other hand reached up to brush some hair out of Noah’s face and tuck it behind his ear, Noah felt tears threaten to fall.

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