Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(43)
Author: Brenda Novak

He tripped as he climbed the porch steps, grabbed for the railing and dropped his bottle. Fortunately, it fell into the bushes and didn’t break, but he cursed as he caught himself.

The noise must have awakened her because the light went on.

“It’s just me,” he said when he saw her peeking out the window.

The door opened, which gave him hope, but she stood in the narrow opening, watching him with uncertainty. “What are you doing here, Noah?”

The porch seemed to be spinning. He put a hand on the door frame to steady himself. “I…” He searched for something he could say to make this moment seem natural, but couldn’t come up with a single reason he should be on her porch.

He’d dragged her out of bed for no apparent reason. They didn’t even know each other that well.

Somehow this had seemed like a much smarter idea a few seconds ago. “I don’t know. Coming here was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

He started to go, but she came out after him.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Yes.”

She gave him a funny look that he would admit it so readily. “Do you get wasted very often?”

He couldn’t remember the last time. “Hardly ever.” He loved biking too much to even be tempted. “But tonight—” he whistled “—tonight there just didn’t seem to be a better answer.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “For what?”

Instinctively, he wiped his mouth as if he could erase the memory of Baxter’s kiss. But it was no use. There would be no forgetting. “I—I can’t talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Loyalty, I guess.” He probably wouldn’t have told her, anyway. He felt too exposed—a lot like he’d felt standing on that podium last night. There was the same telltale tightness in his chest and throat. If his Homecoming debacle had taught him anything, it was that he wanted to avoid so much emotion.

“To whom?” she prompted.

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” She seemed truly concerned.

“Nothing.” He’d screwed up the whole night, first by taking Baxter out with those girls and then by coming here inebriated, making Addy think he had a problem with booze.

Intent on getting as far from her as possible, he turned away. What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to cope on his own. But when she jogged after him and grabbed his hand, he wanted to stay much more than he wanted to leave.

“Hey.” She tugged him to a stop. “Are you okay?”

The sharp edge of panic cut deep when he felt his eyes begin to water—so he purposely avoided the shrewd perception he saw in her face and dropped his gaze. “I like your pajamas.”

“I’m wearing a shirt and some sweats.”

“Okay, so they’re not very revealing. But, because of the other night, I know what I can find under them.” He hoped the sexual nature of that comment would divert her, suggest a reason he’d knocked on her door, since he didn’t really have one. It was easier to come on to her than it was to tell her he’d just lost his best friend.

He thought that would put a decisive end to his visit, but she didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him he was a shallow jerk, like he deserved. She caught his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Why did you really come?”

Part of him wanted to level with her. To tell her he was confused, torn, even angry. But he couldn’t think of how to say it without including Baxter, and when tears of frustration came more readily than words, he did what he had to in order to distract her before she could realize he was standing on an emotional precipice.

“Because I want you,” he whispered, and he knew she’d have to believe it because, in spite of everything else, that was most definitely true.

* * *

Addy couldn’t figure out what was going on with Noah, but this wasn’t about sex. At least, not entirely. If she had her guess, alcohol hadn’t worked to numb the pain of whatever was bothering him—could it be Cody’s death, after all these years?—so he was trying something else.

She told herself to back away. She couldn’t get involved. But he seemed so vulnerable. And she’d dreamed of kissing him so many times over the years—in high school and even since she’d been back—that she couldn’t bring herself to move an inch. When he lowered his head, she stood in the chill autumn air, her bare feet seemingly frozen to the concrete. Then their lips touched and she experienced such a visceral reaction she could only lean in.

This was the boy she’d always wanted. And he kissed even better than she’d imagined….

“I’m happier already,” he murmured, sliding his arms around her and bringing her up against his chest.

Since he’d lifted his head to speak it was the perfect moment to break off the embrace. Instead, Addy clenched her hands in his hair and brought his lips back to hers, kissing him with all the passion she’d held at bay for a decade and a half. Soon they were both gasping for air and pressing into each other as if they were tempted to climb inside each other’s clothes.

“Wow,” he said. “See? You do like me. I don’t know why you had to make me feel like you didn’t. That wasn’t very nice.”

She almost smiled at his petulance. Liking him had never been the problem. Right now, surrounded by darkness and quiet, with all of Whiskey Creek asleep and unaware, it was easy to forget there was a problem. All that had come before, and all that might come after, didn’t seem important. Especially since she knew this brief interlude wouldn’t change anything—except maybe for the better. If she wanted Noah to forget about her all she had to do was give him what he wanted, become another of the many women who passed through his life. Once he conquered the challenge she’d stupidly provided, he’d move on. Tom had told her as much.

“It’s cold out here,” he said. “Let’s go to my house so I can get you warm.”

She was shivering, but cold had nothing to do with it. On the contrary, she was burning up inside, feeling more desire than she’d ever thought possible for someone who’d gone through what she had. How could it be that she still wanted Noah? That what she’d felt in high school had never really changed?

Her therapist would say she was a testament to the power of the human spirit to overcome and disassociate. Dr. Rosenbaum had said it before, but the fact that she could feel so normal, so much like she imagined other women felt when they encountered such a desirable man, surprised Addy.