11
"Come out to Club Harmony with me tonight."
I paused in the middle of making a note on paper and turned to Noah slowly, my pencil still hovering in the air. "Like… a date?"
"Some rich celebutant paid ungodly sums of money to have Darkest Days perform at her twenty-first birthday. I want you to come and watch. Kickstart some ideas."
"Right." Of course it wouldn't be a date. It was all business with Noah. At least, it was all business until he had his tongue in my mouth — and other places.
Even then, that was a sort of business to him, in a way.
"I need to be there early for set up and sound check," Noah continued. "You don't have to show up until later."
"So we're not really going together."
"The band's gonna party afterward." He flicked his eyes to me quickly, then looked away. "You could stay and party with us."
A feeling almost like hope rose in my chest. Maybe he did want to spend time with me without there being a work reason.
"Bring some friends. Hot ones," he added. "I need girls there to distract Cameron or he'll give me shit all night."
I let out a laugh of disbelief. "You want me to bring my hot friends so your bandmates can hit on them?"
"You've got hot friends, right?"
"I can't believe you."
"Didn't you say you had two roommates?"
"They're both taken."
"Cameron won't mind."
"Their boyfriends will."
Noah pushed away from the keyboard. "Just be there at ten. I'll make sure you're on the guest list." He made his way over to the front door, scooping up his wallet and shoving it into his pants pocket.
"You're leaving now?"
He shrugged into his leather jacket. "I need time to de-stress before performing."
"Because being with me is so stressful."
"…got no fucking clue," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." He shot me one last careful look. "You can stay and work as long as you need. I'll see you tonight."
He shut the door behind him. I turned back to the piano, staring down blankly at the keys.
Being around Noah twisted me up into knots. There had been certain points during the last few weeks when I'd almost come to believe he might actually like me. Not just tolerate my presence, but actively enjoy it.
Then he'd walk out like I meant nothing and I'd remember that Noah didn't care about me at all. I was just a means to an end for him. At that thought the roiling in my stomach intensified, those knots becoming a tangled mess.
Was he only having sex with me because he needed to, as part of his "process?" I didn't know if he actually liked me or if he would sleep with any hot girl as long as they served as inspiration.
Was I having sex with Noah Hart because I wanted to feel close to him, because I felt like there might be a deeper connection between us? Or maybe I using my body to get ahead in my career, using all the tools at my disposal to help my client with his work.
