Page 14 of Saving Noah

“Porn?” Zach asked carefully. “You make porn videos?”

“No,” Noah snapped. “I pose for photos. Erotic photos.” He shrugged and tried to act like it was no big deal. “Give me a break, Mr. Pope. It isn’t like I have a lot of job opportunities inside this apartment. I tried some work-from-home shit, but it was never the financial opportunity they presented it to be.” His eyes pleaded with Zach to understand. “You know how expensive it is to live here, Zach. I have some money, but at the rate the money is going out of the account, it won’t last long. If…if I had to leave here, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Zach didn’t need to know Noah had nightmares about that situation becoming a reality. He would probably end up locked away in some psych ward where they conducted experimental medical tests on him if he got kicked out of his safety zone.

“Erotic photos, eh?” Zach asked softly. “Do you enjoy doing it? Posing for those photos?” He smiled and added, “Because I think I would enjoy looking at some of those photos.” His smile vanished. “I would enjoy seeing you, but I’m going to be honest and tell you it kinda pisses me off to think about other people seeing you. Those photo shoots were one of the things that kept me frustrated with you. I didn’t know what you were doing inside this apartment, but I wasn’t a part of it and it pissed me off. Oh, and I hated each and every man I saw coming and going through your door.” Zach’s possessive comment shouldn’t have made Noah so happy, but it did.

His insides glowed with some unknown warmth. He tried not to smile, but couldn’t stop himself. Zach wanted to see his naughty pics.That’s good, right?

“No, I don’t enjoy it, but like I said, my options for earning money are limited. I hate posing for those photos because most of them are meant to be degrading to me. I don’t like those other men touching me during the photo shoot, and I sure as shit don’t like strangers in my apartment. This is my safe place. They shouldn’t be here.” Realizing what he’d just said, he quickly added, “You aren’t a stranger, though. It’s good you’re here.”

Wow. Maybe I should just politely request Zach give me a charity fuck? I’m making a fool of myself with my not-so-subtle comments.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Noah, because I’m really interested in exploring this crazy chemistry between us,” Zach answered with a smile.

Zach reached for him and cupped the side of his face. Noah couldn’t have stopped himself from leaning into the touch if his very life depended on it. He’d known he had a serious case of the lusts where his neighbor was concerned, but the peace and contentment caused by being near Zach shocked him. The daily dose of drugs and what they’d given him at the hospital for his panic attack still hummed through his veins, leaving him less than alert, but his body and mind felt more alive than they had in years. Excitement bubbled inside him and the foreign feeling was…very nice.

“I’d, uh, I’d like that, Zach,” he finally answered. He really needed to stop having conversations inside his head; he was sure there were huge pauses in their conversation because of him, but those internal conversations were what he was used to. They would be tough to set aside. He definitely couldn’t quit cold turkey. He smiled nervously and added, “I’m a pretty cheap date. You don’t have to take me anywhere.”

“Not funny, Noah,” Zach countered quickly. “Those negative comments need to go, even the ones where you’re making a joke but at your own expense.” His frown deepened. “I have no idea who your psychiatrist is, but I wish you’d consider letting me find you a better one. You shouldn’t be so focused on the negative things. Calling yourself crazy? Unacceptable, babe. Totally unacceptable.” His fingertips kept stroking Noah’s cheek while he talked. “I assume your doctor makes house calls?”

Noah looked around the room until Zach’s hand stopped him. Confused, he asked, “Why do you think I have a psychiatrist? One minute you are telling me I’m not crazy, and then next minute, you are assuming I see a crazy doctor? Which is it going to be, Zach?”

The look on Zach’s face told Noah something was seriously wrong with his statement. He had no idea what it could be, but his life before his illness remained cloudy. Noah suspected the forgetfulness was how his mind tried to protect him from those horrific events. Since then, he’d really only had the television for guidance on social interactions, so he wasn’t a good judge of what people considered proper or improper talk. Finally, he asked, “What did I say wrong?”

“I’m concerned about what method of treatment you’re receiving, Noah. A psychiatrist is not a crazy doctor nor are you crazy. They help people deal with issues that have become too big for them to handle on their own. Hell, we all need to see one at some point in our messed-up lives,” he said earnestly. “I assumed you were seeing a psychiatrist because you have a social phobia you need help with and because you have a basket full of antidepressants and narcotics normally prescribed by a psychiatrist. If you aren’t seeing one, which I don’t agree with by the way, who is your attending physician? Maybe it’s someone I know.”

Noah shrugged. “I don’t remember his name, but it’s probably on the bottles. It’s been forever since I saw him. He was nice, though. The medicines he prescribed pretty much saved my life.”

Zach’s expression darkened. “When did you see him last, Noah?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe three years ago?” Noah couldn’t remember. He got his meds every month like clockwork—that was what mattered.

“Three years,” Zach mumbled in disbelief. “Three fucking years? Are you sure?” His voice grew louder with each word.

Noah smiled…not because of Zach’s almost irate tone, but because of Noah’s response to it. He wasn’t getting at all nervous or panicky. He could one hundred percent of the time count on someone getting angry and loud to shut him down mentally.

“I’m pretty sure,” he answered. “I don’t think it’s been longer than that. Quieten your voice; Denala is trying to rest. She’s exhausted from her puppies, I’m sure.”

Zach looked like he was about to argue, but then just closed his mouth. Noah could tell he was mad about something, but that anger wasn’t directed toward him…so he was good. He lay back down on the pillows and snuggled against the warm dog. His body was tired, but content.

“All right, we’ll table this discussion for another time,” Zach said. “So…are you feeling okay? Denala seems to be able to help keep you calm. I hoped that would be the case.”

Noah popped back up again, alarm bells going off in his head. Zach was leaving him. That morning, alone equaled good. Now, alone equaled bad. “Are you leaving? Do you have to?” Shit, he sounded desperate and tried to tone it down. Zach had a life, and it didn’t involve babysitting him. “I mean, it’s okay if you need to go. Thanks for helping me out.”Please don’t go. Please don’t go. Please don’t go.

“Yeah, I need to run,” Zach said, popping Noah’s mental chant bubble. “I’ve got some things I need to take care of, but it shouldn’t take me more than an hour. Will you be okay until I can get back?”

He isn’t leaving. Noah bit back a smile as his stomach did a happy dance appropriate only for a six-year-old boy. “Sure. I need a nap anyway,” he answered. “You must have hit me with some strong shit. My head has cobwebs in it.” A laugh bubbled up and he added, “More cobwebs than usual.”

“That’s because of the drugs, Noah,” Zach clipped.

“Leave my drugs alone, Zach. I don’t like how you’re looking at them. They’re mine. All mine. No touches.”

“Fine,” Zach muttered and then reached for something on Noah’s nightstand. “I’m going to program my cell number into your phone, if that’s okay.” When Noah nodded, he continued, “If you start to feel nervous about anything, call me and I’ll be right here. Understand? Try not to take the medication. Call me first.”

Calling Zach was good. Noah could live with that. “Okay.” He took the phone when Zach finished entering his number. That made three contacts in his phone: Cameron, Mack in security, and Zach. Hell, at this rate, he would have to get more gigabytes, or whatever the hell they were called. Okay, maybe not.

“Do you trust me to take your key? You couldn’t get into your apartment earlier because of some stupid computer glitch. I don’t really trust them right now, and I need to know I can get to you if something happens. I’ll hand it over the minute I get back.” He held up his hand and said, “Scout’s honor.”

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