"I don't know how you haven't killed him already," she stage-whispered to me, with a grin and an eye towards Noah. "He's such a Mr. Cranky Pants."
I nearly died from holding in the laughter. It was the most accurate description of Noah I'd heard so far.
"We didn't come here to gossip." Noah sat on a stool in front of the bar. "We came here to drink."
I took a seat next to him and whispered in his ear. "I thought we came here to fuck?" The naughty part of me wanted to see how he'd respond after telling Walt and Jessie we were colleagues.
He placed a hand on the skin of my upper thigh exposed by my skirt. His thumb stroked my inner thigh, nearly brushing the fabric of my panties. His eyes pierced into me as he spoke out loud in a clear voice. "If you're so eager for my cock, I'll give it to you here and now."
I pulled back with a flush and took a flustered sip of my beer. Why did I try to play these games with Noah? He always won.
I sat next to him for several long minutes as he nursed his beer. His eyes were forward, staring at nothing.
"Are we really just going to sit here?" I asked tentatively.
"What were you expecting when I said I wanted a change in scenery?"
"I don't know. A walk in the park? Going to an art museum?"
He pinned me down with a flat look. "You realize who you're talking to?"
"You're right. Silly me. I should have known better. Of course Noah Fucking Hart would choose to sit in a dive bar to get inspiration for a song that reflects his heart and soul."
"And I'm sure you go on nature walks or whatever for inspiration."
Mostly I sat in my room, tearing my hair out and crying, trying not to have a nervous breakdown as I struggled to compose even a single note.
Noah eyed me. "You're thinking something deprecating about yourself again."
"Now who's the one who's psychoanalyzing?"
"Am I wrong?"
I ignored the question and sipped on my beer.
Noah stared at me silently for a few moments before grabbing my hand. "Put your drink down. Come with me. Jessie,” Noah called out across the room where the waitress was cleaning up tables. “I’m borrowing the back room for a minute.”
"Have fun, kids!" she called back. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Noah marched me through a set of double doors, leading me into some sort of store room with extra tables and chairs, boxes piled on top of one another and cases of alcohol stacked in the corner. "What are you—"
Noah spun me around, pushing me against the wall. My lungs froze at the simmering heat in his dark eyes.
"I don't do long walks on the beach. I don't do candlelit dinners." He said the words as if they tasted awful on his tongue. "I sure as fuck don't do romance."
"I know."
"But Iwilltell you to get over your self esteem issues and stop doubting yourself because you're talented." His eyes pierced me to my very core. "You got that?"
My heart fluttered. As abrasive as he was, the words were almost sweet, in a Noah Hart sort of way. "Yeah. I got it."
"Good." He eyed me for another few moments. "And now I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll be ruined for all other men."
My insides quivered and pulsed.
"Do it," I said. "Ruin me."
His eyes flashed with a dark burning heat. He fisted my hair and tugged until his lips came crashing down on mine.
