Page 60 of Hard Rock Tease
"The only thing I regret is hurting you."
Chapter Twenty
After we leftthe party together, I guided Noah into a taxi. He clung to me the entire time.
Clung wasn't really the right word. He buried his face in my neck, pressing his lips against my skin in not-quite kisses. He rested his hand on my thigh, not high enough to be inappropriate, but still high enough to cause my insides to flutter.
The taxi driver kept glancing at us through the rearview mirror, no doubt wondering if we were going to start making out, or god forbid have sex, in the middle of the ride home. Luckily Noah managed to keep his touches relatively chaste.
By the time we made it to his condo, Noah was walking upright by himself. His eyes were clear, having sobered up on the ride home. I settled myself on the sofa as Noah got us some water. He took his own seat at the other end of the sofa, leaving some space between us. I took the glass of water he handed to me with a murmured thanks.
"So what did you want to talk about?" I asked.
He avoided my eyes, looking almost chagrinned. "I wanted to explain."
About why he'd gotten so angry and thrown me out? Why he'd been a complete asshole? Why he said hurtful things if he knew he was going to regret it? There were too many questions I wanted answers to. I decided to stay quiet and let Noah speak.
He leaned back on the sofa and let out a slow breath.
"I was telling the truth when I said I didn't mean to hurt you. Sometimes I say shitty things without thinking about them."
"Good to know you're self aware."
He side-eyed me. I shut up.
"I just want you to understand," he said.
"I'll listen to whatever you have to tell me."
"I told you I was in foster care," he began. "Our mother was a drug addict. She ran off on us one day. Left the house and never came back. For all I know she's dead. OD'd in some crack house, maybe."
I touched him arm softly. "I'm so sorry."
He shrugged. "It was almost better that way. She was always using the last of our money to score drugs. Always coming home high and yelling at Lily and me. I almost felt relieved when she was gone. I know that makes me a shitty person."
"No it doesn't. I understand." I understand too well. "You were sad she was gone, but you were relieved you didn't have to deal with her anymore."
Noah nodded. "That's a good way of putting it."
"Can I ask how old you were?"
"I was fourteen. Lily was nine. We had no other family to take us in. I suppose we were lucky. They managed to keep us together." He eyed me out of the corner of his eyes. "I guess I don't have to explain that I went through some bad shit."
"I can imagine. I'm sorry."
"It wasn't so much the foster parents. They wanted the paycheck. They didn't pay any attention to what was going on in that house. It was anarchy. The older kids preyed on the younger kids. They used anything and everything against you. And they knew how much I loved my sister."
That must have been part of why it was so hard for Noah to open up to anyone. "You couldn't show any weakness or it would be used against you?"
"Psychoanalyzing me again?"
"Just trying to understand more about you."
"And do you?"
"Not everything. But a bit, I think. I'm sorry for interrupting."
Noah continued. "I did everything I could to make sure Lily got out of it unscathed. Even if it meant sending nasty little fuckers to the hospital on a weekly basis. I protected her. Watched over her. But I couldn't always—" he cut himself off sharply.
