When Noah props himself up, he brushes my hair back and cups my face in his strong, capable hand, his expression exuding love and care.
“You scared me last night, honey.”
Despite the way he’s looking at me, his words make me want to recoil.
Dammit.
We still have a hard conversation ahead of us.
Sighing, I nod and wiggle until he gives me enough space to sit up. I pull down the T-shirt I borrowed from Mercer and button a few buttons on the flannel over top of it.
While I pull myself together, Noah adjusts himself and buttons his pants, then sidles up to the counter and links his arms around my low back.
Steeling my spine, I look him in the eye and prepare to bare my truth. I owe him at least that much.
So I swallow back my reservations and answer with honesty. “I scared myself last night.”
His eyebrows knit together, causing a deep wrinkle to form between them. On instinct, I smooth it out with my thumb. He smiles, but it’s a soft upturn of his mouth that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“The answer may be obvious,” he murmurs, “but I still need to ask. Why’d you do it?”
For the third time today, I blow out a long breath and prepare to list the justifications I gave Mercer and Tytus this morning. “It wasn’t so much an active choice but slipping into old habits. I used to party all the time. I went out every weekend, usually more than once. Random hookups were always my endgame. Partying and pleasure have always been my favorite way to cope.”
Grimacing, I let the words linger. Where I expect to see judgment, though, all I see is patience, his blue-gray eyes soulful as he tries to understand.
“Last night was different. In the past, I never had to worry about hurting anyone but myself. It was stupid of me not to see the difference sooner. I was struggling and thought I could do all the things I used to do to tamp down the pain, But I didn’t recognize how deeply and irrevocably I’ve changed.”
With each conversation I’ve had on the topic, I’ve inched closer to an infallible truth. It’s clear to me now. I don’t want to feel the way I felt last night ever again.
And based on the revelations and promises of the last twenty-four hours, I won’t have to. Relief washes over me, replacing all the fear and trepidation I’ve been harboring.
Noah brushes his knuckles against my cheek, then gently grips my chin. “I don’t want you doing that ever again, Sawyer. Going out and getting that drunk. Taking drugs from strangers. If you want drugs, you get them from Mercer.”
“Okay, Dad,” I jibe, poking him in the chest.
His eyes darken and he moves in until his lips brush against mine. “It’s Daddy to you.”
I grip the back of his head and kiss him properly. “Okay, Daddy,” I whisper as I pull away.
Smirking, he traces my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Promise me. Promise me that’ll never happen again.”
The demand is intense, but from this man, it comes from a true place of concern.
Inhaling, I nod. “I promise. And I’m genuinely sorry. I made a lot of shitty choices last night. Ones I regretted even in the moment.” I nuzzle against his chest, sinking into his hold. “I was self-destructing, and I recognize that things could have been so much worse.”
Noah kisses the top of my head. “Good. Now, I need you to make one more promise. This time, to yourself.”
I arch back, studying his face.
He snags my gaze, his focus so intense it sends shivers down my spine.
“Promise yourself you won’t do anything like that again. Forget me. Forget Tytus and Mercer. You have to do this for you, honey. Promise me you’ll be kind to yourself, no matter the circumstances.”
Tears prick the edges of my eyes and emotion clogs my throat. With a thick swallow, I admit, “I’ve never had someone care if I was kind to myself before.”
He cups my face, then places a slow, tender kiss on my lips.
“You deserve soft and easy, Sawyer. You spent far too long alone, wading through grief, trying to survive.” He looks off to the side, shaking his head, his face darkening. “If I think about it too long, I could kill your brother and Tytus for leaving you the way they did.”
