Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles #1) (6 page)

“Avi,” someone yelled behind her, dragging her attention away from Noah.

Pissed at the interruption just when he was making headway and that the interloper knew her name before he had the privilege of getting it, Noah’s lips twisted into a grimace.

Poindexter jogged over to them. The younger man took stock of their defensive poses, attempting to assess the situation. Noah’s lips parted to encourage her to continue, but snapped it closed when she wove her fingers through Poindexter’s hand with a defiant look directed at Noah. It wasn’t lost on him how the other man clutched her fingers in return.

He contemplated his next move.

On the one hand, he could give the couple room to breathe, and if Sofie’s sexy friend was taken, even by this joker, then so be it.

But on the other hand, I could tell him to fuck off, at least until I’ve gotten my taste.

Noah’s eyes flicked in her direction, then to the man, and finally down to their joined hands. “You know each other?” Noah asked.

“Ye-yeah,” he stuttered, draping an arm over Avi’s shoulder. “Yes.”

He eyed the shorter man; the response irked Noah, but her answering nod cemented his decision to step away.

“I’m ready.” Sofie handed her friend her belongings.

Noah swept his quasi rival another look, testing the truth behind his words.

However, Avi’s eyes stopped his interrogative gaze. She angled her body away, telling Noah in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested.

That didn’t sit well. ‘No’ wasn’t a word usually directed at Noah Adams. He’d heard ‘not yet’ a few times, but never ‘no’. Her being hugged-up on the nobody when she’d look better in his bed was just plain wrong.

His lips moved, but the words held no warmth. “You and your girl should come upstairs.”

When the group made no move, Noah planted a tight smile on his lips. Sofie shot him a quizzical look when she stepped past him to walk up the steps. He was puzzled at Avi’s hesitation. Her face was pinched with concern, but Avi made no move to follow her friend who climbed the stairs calmly.

“Come on,” Poindexter said. He dropped his arm from around her, then just as quickly, he was up the stairs, trailing behind Sofie and Zach.

Noah heard, “Blame the damn alcohol,” as a mumbling Avi walked past him. He took a deep pull of the fragrance that clung to her. He tracked the movements of her unblemished legs as they carried her up the first couple of steps. The smooth, brown legs that wouldn’t be wrapped around his waist tonight teased him.
That dress is too damn short.

Avi picked up her pace and caught up with her nerdy friend, making a show of putting her hand in one of the man’s back pockets.

Noah’s stomach muscles tightened and his pulse quickened. A foreign emotion swept over him, tingling his scalp and pooling bitterness on the back of his tongue. The over-the-shoulder smile and the dork’s appreciative gaze that drank up the woman’s form gave a name to the unfamiliar feeling.

Jealousy
.

The word, and admitting it, almost choked Noah.

He was jealous of
him
...an unknown. He slowed his ascent.

By the time they all arrived upstairs, he still hadn’t come to grips with the new word that had now, unfortunately, become a part of his vocabulary. The private lounge was filled with familiar faces that Noah used to ground him. Over in a corner stood Gavin, and a few feet away was Cassian with his wife.

Poindexter pulled Avi to an empty bar stool.

Sofie ran over to her uncle and aunt and began an animated conversation while Gavin failed at masking his longing for Sofie. Noah knew he’d have to talk with Gavin sooner rather than later. He crossed the room and stood beside his friend, clapping Gavin on his back and pulling his attention away from trouble. Noah’s head tipped to the side. Gavin’s countenance turned sheepish and a red tinge spread across his high cheekbones.

They took several steps toward a bevy of beauties who flitted around the lounge. “Those are more your speed.” He pointed to a few who waved at his heavily tattooed friend. Gavin bowed his head.

“Stop thinking about who you shouldn’t. Live in the moment.” Noah gritted his words out and pushed Gavin into the women’s welcoming arms.

Maybe he’ll stop thinking with his cock and start using that Princeton-educated head of his before Cass chops them both off.

Two good deeds done for the night and multiple crises handled, Noah settled back in his seat. He was grateful when his drink was refreshed. People talked and laughed; the vibe was right. The advice he’d given Gavin replayed itself when his friend cornered a giggling woman, while Sofie pretended not to notice.

Stop thinking about who you shouldn’t.
He decided to take his own advice.

In front of him, an impromptu dance floor formed and couples paired up. Noah’s partner was his third whiskey sour, which failed to induce its normal feeling of relaxation. He reached his desired state after covertly eying the not-so-innocent swaying of Avi’s ass and hearing the tinkling of her laughter.

Fuck this shit.

Jealousy over what some other man had wasn’t Noah Adams’s style.

He evoked envy in others, not the other way around.

Rising, he walked over to Cass and Beth. Even after all these years, they still acted like two giddy, love-sick teenagers. The pervert had her pinned to the wall, pretending to dance when, in truth, Cass was groping his wife. She whispered in Cass’s ear, pushing him off her.

“I’m out.”

Cass faced his boss with a decisive response, “I’ll follow you.”

The man looked like he was two seconds from getting laid, and Noah wasn’t into cock-blocking.

He pulled Cass toward him, finding his ear since they were the same height. “You leave now, and Beth will never cook for my ass again.” He moved back, pushing Cass toward his wife. “I’m good.”

Cass pulled him back and threw an arm loosely around Noah’s shoulders. “You got heat?”

Noah looked at the man, who’d had his back since Afghanistan, as if he’d lost his mind.
I’m always packing, even to take a shit in my own bathroom.
Noah chuckled and tapped Cass’s chest. “See you.”

“Make sure Zach walks you inside. None of that drop you at the curb bullshit,” he said.

Noah shook his head at Cass’s paternal display, especially since both men had never known their biological fathers and Cass was only a few years older than Noah’s thirty-three years.

Noah said his goodbyes, noticing that Sofie had made her way over to Gavin’s side. He chin-checked Gavin, impaling him with a hard stare, which Gavin read with accuracy and backed away.

Then Noah’s feet carried him to
her
.

As he approached, she sank into the other man’s chest behind her. Her expressive eyes darkened as she followed the long strides he took toward her. In the next instant, she donned her mask. But Noah wasn’t fooled.

Two can play that game.

He extended his hand in her direction and smiled when she took it. He stole her from Poindexter’s loose embrace. If she was in his arms, another man would never get to her. But the one behind her was too interested in the passing server, who was offering complimentary drinks, to notice what was happening in front of his face.

Noah teased Avi’s palm with his thumb, luxuriating in her softness.

I bet she’s soft all over.

She pursed her lips in response, but he didn’t stop, not even when she tried to tug her hand away. He tightened his hold. The lazy, swirling patterns he drew into her warm, small hand affected her just as much as it affected him, if the flaring of her nostrils were an indication.

Is the rest of her this responsive?

Easing his grip, he allowed her to slip her hand from his. “Nice meeting you...?” he said, waiting for her to fill in the rest.

She leaned toward Noah as if about to share a secret. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. “Not interested.”

The slow smirk gracing her mouth was cute...her lying words, not so much.

He was tempted to introduce her to the real Noah Adams. Instead, he chuckled at her audacity and left without another word.

Zach led his boss out of the area. A sense of being watched compelled Noah to glance over his shoulder. He was met with a pair of smoldering violet eyes. Avi’s gaze was direct, even as she nestled back into Poindexter’s chest.

She had made her choice, and hell if he’d cry over a missed opportunity. He was a man of action.

In business, and elsewhere, when one door closed, Noah smashed through a nearby window.

“Let’s go.”

The leggy blonde near the stairs gripped onto his forearm.

I
nside a four-story apartment building in Harlem the following morning, Avi turned over in her full-sized bed almost positive whoever was at her bell was really there for a neighbor. In the three months since her big move to New York, she had never had a visitor or an overnight guest.

The shrill noise buzzed again.

“Ugh. Who could that be?”

When she dragged her tired body from the bed toward one of her street-facing windows, outside was already alive at only 8 am—something she was
still
getting used to. A peep through her blinds revealed a few people milling about at the intersection and sanitation workers collecting bagged garbage along her street. Avi was struck by a man walking back to a black car. When the man approached the back window, a woman’s tilted face pushed out. Recognition hit Avi.

“Sofie?” she whispered.
What the heck was she doing here?

She scampered around her bedroom for her robe, threw it on and her bed slippers, and ran out the door. By the time her feet hit the first floor, Avi was out of breath and chiding herself, not for the first time, about her walk-up building. Just as Avi was pulling the security door open, there was Sofie getting out of the car. The cool September morning curled her toes, and Avi pulled back inside just a bit.

“There you are.” Sofie said something to the man who’d rung Avi’s bell, apparently, then came toward Avi with two tall steaming cups. Sofie walked by her with a bright smile on her mischievous face. “Did you forget we’re going shopping?”

Avi slapped her forehead.
That’s it.
Last night, when Sofie had helped Avi into a cab, she squeezed a promise to “hang out soon”. In a haze of drunkenness and euphoria, Avi had agreed, believing soon was at least a week or so away.

“There’s no elevator,” Avi mumbled as her eyes dropped down to Sofie’s blush-colored pumps.

Sofie offered Avi the cup in her hand then removed her glasses. She could only imagine what was running through Sofie’s head as she spun around the entry. The apartment building wasn’t the worst—there was no graffiti and people weren’t loitering in front of it. Actually, none of the things Avi feared from watching one too many movies about New York City had materialized so far. But her building couldn’t be mistaken for the luxury condominiums Avi was sure her friend was more familiar with.

Once she graduated from College, she’d known she wouldn’t stay in Florida. Her mother had once lived in New York, and Avi believed the state would be a good place for her to start over. It was far enough away to put space between her and the oppression she felt in her home state. She’d settled on Harlem because her research had told her the neighborhood was undergoing a major revitalization. The downside was that revitalization meant higher rents, which was something Avi couldn’t afford. She considered herself lucky to have found an apartment on West 137
th
Street that was blocks from her job and within her budget. She would have loved if the building had elevators and a laundry room, but Avi made do.