Sugarbaby (21 page)

Silence on his end.

I'd already jumped into the fire, though, and he needed to hear the rest of it. “Simmons told me that he thinks you need help, too. He was very honest about what I could expect from you in the future. I needed to hear it, too.”

“What exactly did Simmons say?”

I didn't want a replay of that terrible day, but I had to do it, and I fisted my hand, my nails digging into my palm.

“Simmons didn't tell me anything I haven't told you, Noah—he only confirmed everything. You need more help than I can ever give you. What we had can't last.”

“It can't?”

“No, it can't. You're Noah Reeves and you can afford anything that catches your fancy. But what you're going after here, with me, is just a dream.
I'm
a dream, a symbol of what makes you happy, and symbols aren't real.”

“That's not true. You're real.” His voice was strained. “We're real.”

I wouldn't cry.
Don't you dare cry
. “Stop it, Noah. I have no idea who you'll be from one day until the next.”

He made a frustrated sound. “So we're back to this.”

“We'll always be back to this. Simmons has tried to tell you, too—you can't go on pretending everything's okay and—” That damned heat strangled my words.

“And what?” he finished. “You're saying I can't go on avoiding meds or therapy? Because I sure as hell have been doing it.”

Tears threatened me, pooling, but I didn't care anymore. A sob escaped, and it echoed through the phone.

No sound. Then, finally, a soft, “Jade?”

I had to finish this. “No matter how I feel about you, I can't hold my breath day to day, wondering how dark you're going to get if something goes wrong with business. I can't come in second to your moods. And I
want
to be there for you, Noah—that's the thing. But
you've
got to want what's best for you, too, and it tears me apart that you're too proud or blind to see what's happening. Getting help isn't a weakness.”

I wondered what was flashing through his mind: his drunk dad falling down the stairs because of a mood he was trying to flush out of his body with booze? His mom sitting on a lawn chair in her big straw hat, fragile and shut away from the public?

Empty. I felt so empty without him.

“Please help yourself,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Can't you do that?”

And I hung up.

He didn't call back, and I didn't have time to figure out what that meant as I ran to my house, slamming the door behind me to find my friends standing by, anxious and waiting.

I burst into tears, finally giving in.

Finally letting my heart break.

As I'd huddled by the door, Shelby asked everyone to leave, even Micah.

I told her everything about Noah—he didn't care about the non-disclosure agreement, so why should I?—and she listened to every sobbed word. She also promised not to tell a soul; she said she was good at keeping secrets, although I didn't know what she meant.

That's how good she was, I supposed.

The next day, I skipped class and was mulling over calling in to the Angel's Seat to say I wasn't up to working. And I really was sick: heartsick, gut-sick, every kind of sick you could imagine. I knew it was all in my head, though—psychosomatic symptoms. But it didn't matter what a real doctor would call it when I couldn't bring myself to do more than fall on the sofa and stare at the TV all day. I didn't even know what I watched because my own life was running through my head like a scratchy, dull film: Noah's one-dimpled smile, the way his eyes would brighten whenever he touched me, the way Noah had said my name for the first time.

And the last time.

My eyes were swollen, but whenever I shut them, I couldn't sleep. I answered my texts as briefly as I could, even when Evie sent a short message—a smiley face to cheer me up.

Damn Noah Reeves. I wished I'd never met him. So why did I feel like crying whenever I thought of him?

The only time I moved was to go to the bathroom, and when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I froze.

The rat-haired, hollow-eyed, ashy-skinned girl who looked back at me wasn't a stranger—she was an unwelcome guest who'd somehow found a way back into my house. She'd started living here after the Rex-Micah scandal in her gray clothes and with a sullen attitude that had worried Uncle Joseph.

Where's my girl?
he would ask.
Where'd she go?

That was when I'd started to pull myself together, for his sake, more than anything. Of course, Evie and Shelby had played a big a part in helping me turn around my disposition, too, but I'd mainly done it for Uncle Joseph.

As I kept looking at myself, I realized that this was the girl who would've disappointed him the most—not the Jadyn who'd been Noah's sugarbaby for a time, not the one who'd accepted gifts and traveled on someone else's dime. It was this person in the mirror who would've broken his heart.

That got me going, at least at a slow speed, and I took a shower. I pulled on my Angel's Seat T-shirt and jeans, then went back to the mirror to apply a liberal amount of concealer, especially under my eyes where the bags didn't lie.

Even so, Uncle Joseph would've smiled to see me making an effort.

When I got to work, there were more coffee drinkers than usual in the post-lunch dining room. I wished Shelby were one of them, but she'd already gone back to Texas-U. Carley was on shift, though, and when she saw me, she gave me a great big hug.

I needed that.

She didn't say anything else, just rubbed my back like I'd done to her during her lowest times with Bret. Meanwhile, Jackie and Juanita sent me sympathetic glances in the kitchen, as if they knew something was going on with me but were too wise to open that can of drama. Even so, Jackie hugged me, too, making me remember what my mom's hugs were like.

Slightly but not totally bolstered, I went about my job. After the coffee drinkers left, it was light business, and I served the early-bird Tex-Mex crowd with what could pass for a smile, hoping it wouldn't wobble and fall off my face. I tried not to glance at the table where Noah had sat with Simmons on that magical day weeks ago when he'd come into my life.

Would I ever be able to look at that table again without my heart taking a dive?

Carley came up to me mid-service, pulling me over to the empty coffee bar. “I'll cover for you if you want to go. Juanita and I can handle what's out here, and Rainey's coming in later.”

“I'm good.”

She held my hands. “I know you are but . . . still.”

Was she waiting for me to explain why I was such a disaster? I could tell she was trying hard not to explode with curiosity.

I heard the front door open, letting in customers, so that meant I couldn't stand here wallowing in my own personal soap opera. I squeezed Carley's hands. “I've gone through a lot worse in life. This is just a bump.”

But Carley wasn't listening. She was looking over my shoulder at whoever had just walked in.

Even before I turned around, I knew who it was. I could feel him in my bones, in my blood, in my lungs. He'd taken the place of the air there, and I held him in.

I looked over my shoulder to find Noah in a flannel shirt and jeans, his hair golden and mussed, as if he'd had a hard time these past twenty-four hours, too.

He was actually here, in public, his scar standing out on his neck against his ruddy skin as he curved his hands at his sides, devouring me with his gaze.

Something he'd said about his scar gripped me.
I have a badge that says you can come and get me, but I'm going to survive. When people see this scar and if they find out the story behind it, they'll think twice before throwing something at me
. And I had thrown so much at him.

But he was here. In public.

For me?

“You know I don't let things go, Jade,” Noah said, and even with the Lyle Lovett music coming through the speakers, every customer in the room had turned around—all the better to hear every word he had to say. “So considering all the surprises I pulled on you, this shouldn't come as one.”

Oh, dear Lord. “Noah—”

“You don't have to remind me that I'm in a room of people who might've heard about me and my troubles. I've stopped caring about such things. When you're in danger of losing what I'm about to lose, none of that matters.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carley take a seat on a bench, as if she couldn't stand up anymore. But, somehow, my weak knees were keeping me upright, even if they were shaking. How could he always reduce me to the quivers?

He beat me to saying anything, lifting his finger, taking a step toward me. “Before you chase me away, hear me out.”

All I could do was stare at him.

He took another step toward me, his boots thudding on the wood floor. “Yesterday you drew a line that you've drawn before, but I finally heard it bold and clear. I don't like lines—I've spent my entire life determining my own destinations and deciding where I'm going to go, and when someone tells me I can't move forward because of some boundary I didn't subscribe to? I wasn't about to tolerate that.”

I reached for a table next to me, needing it for balance as he continued.

“No one tells me what to do.” He held up a finger. “
No
one. But when I saw that you weren't going to erase that line, I . . .” He lowered his hand. “The only person who's ever done that to me was Diamont. He was the only one who had the guts.”

The emotion I'd been suppressing welled up in a burst of words. “You're comparing me to Diamont?”

“No.” Another step. “Diamont never made me feel as if there's a world I've never seen that's hidden in the one I've already traveled far and wide. He never had the power to show me that work isn't everything.” He seemed to brace himself. “Diamont would've never had me calling up the doctors about my . . . issues.”

I wanted to sink to my knees in relief, but I was still holding onto that table, holding onto my breath as if I wouldn't be able to suck in any more.

He lowered his voice. “Yesterday, you shook me. You frustrated me, angered the hell out of me, made me sad, and . . . God, but it was your tears that did it—showed me how deeply I was in denial. You're not the weepy type, Jade, and your sadness made me want to do something about my issues for the very first time. It made me want to lay it all on the line with you now, because I'll be goddamned if I lose you.”

The music played on, but nothing else in that room stirred. I even noticed that, at some point, Simmons had eased past the door and was standing against the brick wall, watching his best friend open himself totally and completely.

Simmons looked at me with as much hope in his eyes as I was seeing in Noah's. Then he nodded, as if confirming everything Noah had said about him contacting help. About what he felt for me.

Noah stepped even closer. “You told me you thought you were only a symbol to me, something that wasn't real, and I told you we
are
real. I've never meant anything more because I'm yours, Jade, all yours. When love comes in, you just know. And remember—I'm a person who always knows.”

All his other words floated off because . . . had he just said
love
?

Now
I
sat down across from Carley, who had her mouth covered in sheer I've-got-to-stop-myself-from-squealing joy. I saw everyone else in that room staring at me. This had to be a joke to them, right? The billionaire and the café waitress?

The defensive part of me tossed up the guardrails. “Maybe we're real, but how long will it last? I'm not a model, Noah. I'm not a starlet who runs in your social circles.”

He merely shook his head.

Most guys would've written me off at that point, recognizing that
I
was the problem in this relationship now—my fear, my past murmuring to me that this would not end well and I shouldn't trust him.

But I did, didn't I? And I was too tongue-tied and bowled-over to say that I wanted to work for love as much as he did. I wanted it more than anything if I could just let go and grasp it.

He scanned the room as if he was realizing how much he'd revealed about the great Noah Reeves to the public, but then he smiled to himself. A confident, who-gives-a-crap, this-is-really-me smile. He met Simmons's gaze, and his friend smiled back, turning around to go out the door.

Noah slowly closed the rest of the distance between us, then in one of his patented surprise moves, picked me up off the bench and swept me into his arms. He looked down at me for a breathless moment, his gaze a blaze of green fire before he brought me into a searing, blood-spiking kiss.

My mind was a swirl of colors, dots swarming around in circles, trying to find a place to settle. But just before they could, I felt my butt hit wood again, and I reeled, grasping the table beneath me as I found myself sitting.

He walked backward toward the door. “You know where to find me, Jade.”

As he left, I stared after him. The door shut behind him, and the room started buzzing in a frenzy, everyone watching me and talking and probably wondering why the heck I was frozen to the table.

Carley hopped over. “Holy crap. Noah Reeves!”

My Noah. And as my lips vibrated with the aftermath of his kiss, I found myself smiling. I'd had fantasies about him pulling a Bret, rushing into my house to sweep me off my feet. But this?

This was a dream come true.

And I was just sitting here.

Carley pulled me to my feet. “Go!
Go!
”

So I went, sprinting toward the front door, banging out of it only to see that Noah's pickup wasn't in the parking lot. But Simmons was, and he was casually leaning against his black SUV, pointing toward the road.

I started to run back to the café, but I hesitated, wanting to thank him for being on my side in so many ways. But it was the internship that I articulated first for some reason.

“Internship,” I said on a breath. “Thank you for that. Thank you for
everything
.”

He seemed puzzled. “I didn't have time to arrange a position for you. Neither did Noah. Besides, you didn't want our help, remember?”

“I . . .” Oh, whatever. I couldn't hang around and discuss it, so I waved good-bye and took off toward the side door of the café, where I had to grab my purse and keys before I could go anywhere.

My internship
, I thought. Noah hadn't had anything to do with my getting it. I'd earned it all on my own.

As I busted into the kitchen, Carley was already back there, waiting with my stuff, and I grabbed my purse and keys, which she'd mindfully taken out already. I gave her a quick hug as Jackie and Juanita cheered me on.

From there, it was a mad rush to the road, where I put pedal to the metal to catch up to Noah. I was driving toward The Hill, but when I saw his pickup ahead of me on the lonely country route, I laid on my horn.

Was he messing around with me when he didn't stop?

I beeped again, then relaxed as he pulled off on the road near the lake, our cars bumping over the gravel into the tree-lined solitude.

I was out of my car before he was. “Didn't you hear me blowing?” I asked.

He was about to answer when I rushed up to him. Then, just as Bret had done to Carley, I pulled him down into a kiss that knocked us both back against the side of his pickup.

He hesitated for only the barest second, as if taking in the fact that this was really happening, and then he pressed me tight against him as our mouths ravaged each other's. The world was revolving like it didn't have an axis, whirring off into nowhere—or at least somewhere I'd always hoped to go. Somewhere with Noah.

As he wrapped me in an even hungrier embrace that had me clinging to him with just as much ferocity, I broke away from the kiss, using what oxygen I had left in my lungs to talk.

“You went public in a big way today.”

“When you're in love, you want everyone to know.”

In love. He was in love with me.

“I've never been in love,” I said. “I have no idea what it's like.”

“Are you in it now?”

I pushed the last of my fear aside, turning my back on it, even though I heard it screaming in warning as it got farther away. But it was wrong, so wrong.

“Yes,” I said, finally committing. “Lord, yes, Noah.”

He cupped my jaw, then softly touched his lips to mine. There was a future in that kiss, and that future rolled out in front of me in an endless landscape of color. A picture I could finally be a part of.