Page 21 of Saving Noah

Cameron had brought a doctor in to see him, and Noah started the regimen of pills that turned him into a walking corpse. They had, however, allowed him to leave his apartment, just not the apartment building. Some people might not have classified that as a huge victory, but Noah did.

Cameron found a way for him to make money without leaving his apartment, too. Yes, it was degrading, but it paid the bills. Cameron pretty much did everything to keep him alive—not exactly functioning in society, but alive.

His cell chirped and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Absolutely nobody ever called him. Unfamiliar noises could lead to him pissing himself in fear—yeah, it was that bad. With a frown, he picked the cell up and tried to see what caused the noise. It was a text message from Zach.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’m sorry. I need you to take two of your pills, but steer clear of the Ritalin and Baclofen—they cause paranoia. I know I told you ‘no’ on the pills, but we can’t take you off them cold turkey. It will need to be a slow reduction or the side effects will be hell. I’d like for you to see a doctor friend of mine—he comes highly recommended. I hope you rest well. I’ll be steps away if you need me. Just call.”

Noah read and reread the message from Zach. The tear sliding down his cheek shocked him; it had been months since he’d been able to cry over anything. His entire body normally felt numb, which he attributed to the drugs. Zach, even with the medication, managed to touch a part of him no one and nothing else had. That terrified him.

Zach clearly feltresponsiblefor Noah’s health—which was ridiculous after nothing more than an ER visit. Even with Noah’s fumbling attempts at luring him into sex, the good doctor seemed determined to stick around and make sure he stepped onto the path of improving his mental health. Noah wasn’t sure which one of them was more stupid—the doctor for thinking he could change Noah or Noah for hoping the doctor was right.

He laid his head against the cold hardwood floor and imagined Zach’s dog was still with him. No, he imagined Zachandhis dog were still with him. Loneliness had become such a natural part of his life he hadn’t thought the pain of it could bother him any longer. He’d been wrong. After only a small tease of life around Zach, he hurt in places he’d thought would never hurt again.

Zach told him to take two of his pills, but he didn’t have the energy or desire to haul his ass up off the floor, so he stayed right where he was—in a fetal position next to his front door. He snorted out a laugh. He probably couldn’t have presented a more pathetic picture if he’d been filming a sad Hallmark television movie.

*****

The elevator’s loud ding signaled the doors were about to slide open and caused Zach to slit one eye open and look in the direction of the intruder. His back hurt. His ass hurt. His shoulders hurt.His fucking heart hurt. When Connor stepped off the elevator and stumbled to a stop, staring at Zach where he sat in the hallway in front of Noah’s door, even Zach’s head started hurting. He would never live this moment down.

Connor, to his credit, didn’t burst out laughing when he saw Zach’s predicament. Instead, he slowly walked in Zach’s direction and stopped right in front of him. “Wow, Meadows, when I suggest you drop your walls and consider letting somebody in, you toss that heart of yours out there like a fucking Frisbee, don’t you?” He reached down and offered Zach a hand up off the floor.

“Nah, more like a boomerang,” Zach corrected as he took Connor’s hand and winced at his stiffness as he stood. Apparently, he was too old for stalking. “He tossed that motherfucker right back at me—nearly took my head off in the process.”

Connor frowned, but didn’t say anything as Zach punched in his security code and pushed the door open. His frown deepened when the stench of puppy poop smacked him right in the face. “Holy shit, Zach. Your apartment stinks.”

“Yeah,” Zach answered wearily. He’d convinced himself Noah would slip out as soon as he moved away from the door, so he hadn’t cleaned up after the puppies during the night. He guessed now he and Connor would be paying the price for his late-night decision.

“Okay, you go hit the shower and get some coffee going, and I’ll take care of Denala and the pups. This is the last time, though. I’ve already warned you about my opinion on all things puppies—they are stinky.”

When Zach collapsed on the couch, Connor yanked him back up and pushed him in the direction of his shower.

“Fuck, Zach, how old are you? I remember a time when we could party two nights straight, sleep on the floor, and still make early morning classes on time. Get your shit together.”

Connor was right; Zach needed to snap out of it. He just couldn’t figure out how he’d messed things up so badly with Noah.

Forty-five minutes later, he’d showered, swallowed down two cups of coffee, and then relayed, in detail, what had transpired between him and Noah the night before. Zach waited for the verdict, certain Connor could shed light on his error. But he already knew; what had happened in the bedroom with Noah had violated all sorts of trust and probably a law somewhere, so whatever Connor was about to say wouldn’t be a shock. Hell, he wouldn’t even be shocked if Connor arrested him. Could you be arrested for being an opportunistic asshole?

“Well? I know you’re about to let me have it,” Zach said. “What are you waiting on? Get it over with. Put me in my place. Arrest me, for fuck’s sake…just do something other than sitting there and staring at me like I’m some sort of freak of nature. I made a mistake, Conn. I lost control. I know all of this. What I don’t know is how to make things right with Noah.”

Connor took a gulp of his diet soda, set it down on the small dining table in his kitchenette and asked, “Do you really want my opinion on what you need to do to fix this—to make things right?”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Duh…that’s why I texted you all night long, Conn. That’s why I just poured my heart out to you when my every instinct is telling me to dig a deep hole and cover myself up. What can I do? No, is thereanythingI can do or has too much damage already been done?”

“I think you should fuck him. End of story.” Connor’s eyes glittered with laughter. “That’s my professional opinion.”

“Oh. My. God. Now is not the time for jokes, Conn. I really need some help here.” Zach rubbed his face and added, “I’m not sure, but what I did might be enough for me to lose my medical license.”

“For crying out loud, Zach, stop being an idiot. You aren’t his doctor; you’re his neighbor. There’s a big difference between the two.” He held up his hand to cut off Zach’s argument. “Before you say it, you stopped being his ER doctor the second his guardian signed the release papers and you took him home. Release papers equal you being his neighbor again. Stop being a fucking doctor for once in your life. I honestly think if you’d take a time-out and be the Zachary Meadows I used to know, all the other shit would work itself out—including Noah St. Claire.”

What in the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Not only do I not have a clue what you’re trying to say, I also need to go on the record as stating I am a doctor, a damned good doctor, and I don’t see any reason why I would want to stop.” Why had he thought Connor would be able to help? Connor was purely a fuck ’em and leave ’em sort of guy.

“I’m gonna say something I know you don’t want to hear, Zach, and I need you to promise to not punch me in the face. Your muscles are ridiculous and my face is pretty.” He grinned. “Tell me you promise.”

“Just get it over with.” Zach growled. “If I haven’t punched you yet, I don’t guess I will.”

“Zach, after they arrested your dad and you found out everything he was involved in, I had to sit back and watch you change. You slowly turned into this…this”—he waved his hand up and down Zach’s length— “different Zachary Meadows than the one I grew up with. The doctor. The man who wears suits when he goes to dinner. The man who will only fuck men he meets in bars because he wouldn’t dare let it be more than a fuck. You stopped doing what you loved and started doing what you thought was right. You’ve tried so damned hard to not be your father you’ve lost yourself.”

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