Breaking Noah (9 page)

Just before leaving school for the day, I receive a text from Shannon telling me to meet her at Roberto’s this evening—that she has something she wants to discuss with me. Right from the college, I head to the gym to try to burn off some of the stresses plaguing me lately—more specifically, the tension built up due to Zara’s friendly handshake with my dick. Yep, I’m still thinking about that.

All. The. Fucking. Time.

After my workout, I head home for a quick shower before going to meet Shannon at Roberto’s. Walking into the restaurant, I see it’s rather busy for a weeknight. We’re able to get a booth in the back, which would be a perfect setting for a date, but I’m just not into it. All the miles I ran on the treadmill earlier didn’t do much to take the edge off, and my attention is dwindling the more she talks.

“So, I went by Northwestern earlier today and spoke with one of the department heads of their fashion school. It’s not much, only going to be a few hours a week, but they’ve offered me a position to mentor potential students that want to take some fashion courses before deciding on a major,” Shannon says, eyes beaming with pride.

“Sounds good,” I mumble, shoving a forkful of pasta into my greedy mouth.

“You could be a little more excited for me,” she whines, taking a drink from her glass, never taking her eyes off mine.

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations for getting a job four years after graduating?” I immediately wish I could take that back. My statement was rude and uncalled for. She’s right, I should be happy for her, excited even. It’s not Shannon’s fault I’m wound up tighter than a yo-yo. “I’m sorry, Shan. That was rude,” I say apologetically.

“You’re right, it was rude. I figured after all your subtle little hints about me not pulling my weight, you would be happy I found something in the field I went to school for. I know it’s not much, but shit, Noah, it’s something.”

“Tell me more about it.”

“No, I’m not telling you shit. You’re such a fucking asshole.” Taking a large swallow from her wineglass, she slams it down so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.

Shannon rises from her seat and throws her napkin onto the table. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.” Without a second glance, she turns her back and rushes off toward the bathrooms.

Sitting in my seat, feeling very much like the jackass I am, I wait for her to return. After about five minutes, I’m worried she’s left, so I set out to check on her. Just outside the restroom, I notice Shannon drying her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Instead of interrupting a moment that she believes is private, I make my way back to our table and wait for her to return.

Catching the waiter before he makes his way to the kitchen, I ask him to bring out a molten lava cake and our bill. It’s the least I can do for Shannon after ruining her news.

Once she’s back, I reach across the table and take her hands in mine, rubbing gently across the tops of them. “I really am sorry, Shan. It’s been a crazy week and I took out my frustrations on you. Forgive me?” Just then the waiter arrives, setting down the cake in the middle and the check next to my forearm.

Shannon smiles, nods, and wastes no time picking up a fork and slicing into the cake. I slip my credit card into the bill, hand it off to the waiter, and watch Shannon enjoy her little slice of heaven.

At least I did something right.

I’m late to my tutoring session with Noah—mainly because I’ve been over at the college applying for the fashion mentorship. I hung around until I ran into Shannon, making sure she knew I applied. The way her eyes lit up made me want to laugh. There’s no doubt in my mind I’ve got this.

I walk into the library, where Noah and I have arranged to meet. I’ve taken extra care with my appearance today. Not that it matters. I could wear a sack and he still wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off me.

Walking over to the study area, I pull out a chair and sit down, annoyed that he’s late. I don’t like being kept waiting. After ten minutes I’m about to leave when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around, expecting Noah, but instead I’m face-to-face with one of the other English teachers in the department, Professor Banton.

“Zara? Professor Bain asked me if I wouldn’t mind taking over your tutoring sessions. He’s had some personal issues arise that make him unable to fulfill his requirements.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“I appreciate it, Professor Banton, but I was actually here today to let Professor Bain know that I wouldn’t be able to make our sessions anyway. Work asked me to cover a few extra shifts, and I feel bad saying no.”

“Oh, well, that worked out well, then, didn’t it?” She smiles. “You know where to find me if you need any help, dear.”

“Thanks.” I smile. I grab my bag and stalk out of the library, tapping out a text to Noah on the way.

Me:
Personal issues??

Noah:
I’d say things have changed in our relationship and it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to spend any more time together outside the classroom.

Me:
Right, so my grades have to suffer because you can’t keep your dick in your pants?

Noah:
Ms. Banton is a great teacher. You’ll be fine with her.

Me:
Ms. Banton is a moron.

I shove my phone into my pocket and storm out to my car.

He’s still fucking avoiding me. I’ve given up on the tutoring. I don’t need help; that was all just a ploy to get closer to him. His wishy-washy attitude shouldn’t bother me; if anything, it should show me that he’s not the kind of person to engage in an illicit affair, but I know better.
Don’t I?

I lie on my bed while I try to figure this out. My laptop dings, alerting me to a new message coming in. I smile as I click on it. Ryan. Seeing his name makes me realize how much I miss him.

Ryan:
Hey, Zars, are you around?

It’s a quick message, and looking at the time stamp, it was sent only a few minutes ago. Unable to control my excitement, I tap back a reply.

Me:
Yep. Are you still here?

Go to messenger,
he replies, and I open up the instant messenger app on my phone. There is nothing in this world that could make me happier than having an actual conversation with my brother.

Me:
Hey, you. I miss you so much. How are you doing?

Ryan:
I’m good, baby sis. How’s school? Grades good?

Me:
Grades rock, duh. Just having boy problems.

Ryan:
Dillon? You know I’m trained to kill a man using only my pinkie, right?

Me:
LMFAO. Different guy, not Dillon. It’s this other guy I’m interested in, but he just ignores me.

Ryan:
Well, then he’s a dumbass. I’m happy you’re moving on from Dillon. That guy is a fucking mo-ron.

Me:
I love you.

Ryan:
So tell me what’s up with this other dude. Am I going to hate him?

Me:
It’s possible, LOL. He’s really nice and super-smart. He just doesn’t seem interested in me, only sometimes I think he likes me.

Ryan:
He’s a man. Men want what they can’t have. Pick a different dude and flirt a bit. It’ll get his attention.

Me:
I don’t think it’ll work. He’s older, more mature than that.

Ryan:
Yeah. He has a dick. He’s not mature. Stop kidding yourself.

Me:
Okay, enough about this. I miss you. Home soon?

Ryan:
Real soon. I might get an early discharge. Maybe before Christmas.

Me:
OMG…that would be AMAZING!!!

Ryan:
I know. I miss snow. And you, too, sis.

Me:
You have no idea.

Ryan:
K, I gotta get back. Just wanted to talk to you. Remember, flirt around. And if he hurts you, he gets the pinkie.

Me:
I can’t wait to see you. Love you so much.

Ryan:
Love you more, kid. SOON!

The following Monday in class, I decide to try out my brother’s advice. He’s never led me wrong before, why would he start now? So as I make my way into class, I survey the room and the only decent-looking guy is Luke, football player extraordinaire. Since our seats are close, right next to each other, I volunteer him to be my guinea pig for this experiment of sorts.

Noah walks into the classroom shortly after we’re all seated. Based on his notes on the board, we’re to be working on a paper due at the end of the quarter. Instead, I take this opportunity to introduce myself to Luke and see where things go from here.

“Hey, I’m Zara,” I whisper, leaning toward his desk. His head shoots up and his eyes connect with mine. A panty-melting smile crosses his lips.
Yeah, this guy will do.

“Luke,” he says, extending his hand, which I accept.

“You play football? Do you like it?” I ask, unsure of how to begin a conversation with someone I don’t necessarily want to talk to.

“I love it. You should come to a game sometime. It would be cool.”

“Yeah, maybe sometime.” I glance toward the front of the room and see Noah’s watchful eyes on me, monitoring every move I make. His face is cold as stone, and the way his fingers grip the pencil in his hand leads me to believe I’m doing something right.
Excellent advice, Ryan.

“What are you doing tonight?” Luke asks, breaking me from my stare-down with Noah. Whipping my head in his direction, I smile sweetly and answer.

“Whatever you’re doing, I guess.” All this practice of my seduction technique with Noah might have been a good thing—setting me up for the real world and all.

“Excellent. Meet me at the student union at nine?”

“Of course.”

At exactly nine I’m waiting for Luke in a little coffee bar inside the student union. He’s not arrived yet, which is a point against him in my book, but then again, this isn’t really a date. Not for me, anyway. I glance around, and the room’s filled mostly with students studying; then I catch Noah sitting at a table looking through papers. He gives me a questioning glare, but I ignore it.

As if Luke planned it perfectly, he strolls through the door just as Noah’s setting down his pen and moving to stand. When he notices Luke, he lowers back into his seat and watches again.

“Hey. You look beautiful,” Luke says, taking me in a hug that’s not uncomfortable, but doesn’t give me the same feelings as when Noah touches me.

“Thanks. You clean up nice, too. Where are we going?”

“There’s a restaurant a few blocks away. It’s a nice night, if you’d like to walk with me.”

“Absolutely,” I answer, a little too enthusiastically, but I need Noah to hear my voice. As we walk out the door, we pass by Noah’s table and his growl is noticeable, but I pretend like I don’t hear it.

It’s not ten minutes later that my phone begins ringing. Checking the screen, Noah’s number flashes as an incoming call. Pressing ignore, I continue my evening with Luke. He’s going on about something football-related. I couldn’t care less, so I smile and act like I’m listening. A few seconds later, my text notification goes off.

Noah:
WTF are you doing?

“I’m sorry, I have to answer it. My cousin is at a party and I promised to be available if she needs me for anything,” I lie.

“No problem.” His smile is endearing, and honest, even. I almost feel bad about using him as Noah bait. Luke seems like the exact kind of guy I would date if I had my head on straight. Maybe after all of this is over I’ll be able to give him a real chance. It’s times like this that I question my own sanity. Remembering it’s all for Karly, I have a little bit of peace, but not much.

Me:
I’m on a date. Can I help you with something?

Noah:
That guy is a tool. I’ve heard rumors. He’s no good, Zara.

Me:
I’m not sure who I date is any of your business.

I glance up at Luke and start to get a little nervous. I never thought he would end up being a Boy Scout, but I don’t take warnings from Noah lightly. Yes, he’s jealous of me spending time with Luke, but I don’t think he’d lie about my safety.

Noah:
Please text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.

Me:
If I go home…I’ll text you.

Noah:
Zara…

Me:
Good night, Noah. I know I’ll have one.

I quickly power my phone off before he has a chance to respond. The rest of my night with Luke goes without incident. He is even gentlemanly enough to walk me back to my car parked at the student union. I won’t lie and say he didn’t try to kiss me, but I turned my face at the right moment. When his lips touched my skin, I didn’t feel those butterflies I do with Noah—I kind of felt dirty.

“We’ll have to do this again soon,” he says, opening my car door for me.

“Yeah,” I say through my teeth and smile. He’s a nice-enough guy, but leading him on doesn’t feel right. I hope another beautiful coed will catch his attention and he’ll forget all about little old me.

Walking through the front door, the apartment is empty…again. Tossing all my stuff on the dining room table, I walk back to the bedroom and quickly disrobe. After I slip into a sleep shirt and shorts, I grab my phone from the nightstand and text Noah.

Me:
Home.

Noah:
Safe?

Me:
Maybe.

Noah:
Thanks.

All was quiet today in class. Zara didn’t make any attempts to talk to me, which made everything a little easier. Granted, it’s still pretty difficult to watch her walk past my desk and smile as she chats with Luke.

Luke is a fairly good student, but I know guys like him. He might as well be Lance’s younger, more perverted twin brother. All the kid does is rant about what girl he’s fucked and who he’s going to fuck next. His latest conversations have included Zara’s name. And she’s playing into his hands. How can she be so stupid?

“Ms. Hamilton. Can I see you after class today?” I ask, needing to tell her more about this fucker who’s getting her attention.

Instead of answering my question, she and Luke continue talking. No doubt making plans for him to fuck her in the backseat of his car. Not on my watch. Especially with the relationship she has with her boyfriend, he’s not the kind of guy she needs to be involved with.

“Ms. Hamilton,” I say again, with more authority. Her head twists toward me—along with half the room. She has a smile on her lips. A fucking smile. He’s making her happy.
Fuck.
This isn’t like me. I can’t have these kinds of emotions.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bain. What’s up?” she asks, without any emotion.

“Can I see you after class today?”

“Can we discuss whatever it is you want to talk about tomorrow during your office hours? I have to leave right after you dismiss.”

“That’s fine,” I respond, not wanting to let her leave with him. I’m going to go insane thinking about what they’re doing out of my sight.
Fuck.
The date they shared two nights before was bad, but this is torture. She’s not even heeding my warning. How can she seem so intelligent one day and then act like a typical college student the next?

I end today’s lecture and dismiss everyone early. I’m going to rid myself of these false feelings I have for Zara one way or another. I think I might have a way to do it. It’s not going to be the greatest decision I’ve ever made, but I hope it will be better for all parties involved. Especially Shannon.

While my students are finishing their assignments before the end of class, I step into the hall and make an appointment with the jeweler in town, so I don’t procrastinate when I leave work.

Stepping into the high-end store, I search the display cases for something that screams Shannon, but nothing is popping out at me. An elderly man comes from the back and motions for me to meet him at the case he’s standing in front of.

“I think I have just the thing,” he says with his raspy, smoked-for-forty-years voice, reminding me of my late grandfather. A sense of calm settles over me as I look down to where he’s pointing, and he’s right—it’s perfect.

I don’t know much about rings, but this is beautiful. Not too big, not too small, just right. “It’s amazing. Can I see it?”

The man nods, uses the keys on his belt loop to open the glass, and pulls out the diamond ring set in a platinum band. My father told me once that if the woman is meant for you, put the ring on your pinkie finger and that’s the size of her ring finger, so I do just that. The band effortlessly slides down my pinkie and catches the light from the bulbs above.

“I’ll take it,” I say, not taking my eyes off the ring. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know if Shannon is the only woman out there for me, but I’ve been with her so long, this seems like the next logical step.

Paying more money than I had anticipated for my purchase, I take the small velvet box and place it in the front pocket of my slacks. I make it back to my apartment quicker than I ever have before. Taking the steps two at a time, I shove my key into the lock and push open the door. I hope I’ll have a little time before Shannon gets back from her meeting with a student she’s going to mentor and I can whip up a nice meal.

Pulling two steaks from the fridge, I place them in a sizzling-hot skillet, searing them on all sides, then pop them in the oven to finish cooking. While they’re going, I change into a nicer, fresher pair of pants and a button-down shirt, pull out the beautiful lace tablecloth her grandmother gave her before she passed away, and set up our dining room table—complete with candles and place settings. I only wish I had stopped to pick up some fresh flowers.

Just as I’m pulling the steaks from the oven and plating them alongside some steamed broccoli, the doorknob turns and creaks open. I quickly set the plates on the table and stand off to the side.

“In here, honey,” I call, letting her know to come right into the dining room.

When she rounds the corner, I hear her voice and that of another person. All the hairs stand up on my neck and sweat appears on my brow. I know that voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.

“Noah, I’d like you to meet the student I’ll be mentoring this semester. She’s only a junior and hasn’t taken any classes in fashion, but her counselor said she’d be an excellent fit for the program, provided she changes her major.” Just then, the combat boots sneak around the corner and Zara’s standing in my dining room with my soon-to-be fiancée.

“Zara, this is my boyfriend, Noah. Noah, this is Zara.”