***
When Monday night comes and Veronica takes Paislee to bed, I tell her I’m going to step out for a moment.
Veronica barely looks up from her phone when I tell her I’m leaving. She’s been obsessing over this girls' weekend.Thank god for distractions.
She believes me because she has no reason not to. I don’t lie.
Not usually.
Unless it comes to him.
I catch up to Veronica’s car rather quickly. We don’t live in a big town, so her hot red car is easy to spot.
Staying a few cars behind, I take the necessary turns to keep up.
I know this is crazy. I understand how this is stalking.
But, at this point, I can’t rationalize it. When it comes to Noah, I can't act normally.
He’s got me socompletelyfucked up.
I push him away, only to wonder why he isn’t chasing after me.
It’s complicated, and frustrating, and I don’t have time to apply common sense before I spot him driving into a parking lot with a neon sign named, ‘Tipsy’.
We’re a little ways out of town, but I know of this place. Heard about it, at least. It’s a rock bar out here that often hosts live bands.
It’s a pretty popular spot here among the younger crowd. I hear some of the work crew talking about it during the day. I can tell by the clientele standing outside smoking their cigarettes and vapes that I’m well above the average age group. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb. My stomach twists to the point where I might be sick.
What is he doing here?
Is he coming here to meet someone?
I feel struck by a wave of sadness. The thought of Noah…my Noah…on his knees for someone else. Or, them on their knees for him. Moaning someone else's name. Those aremymoans. They belong tome.
Fuck this.
Before I know it, my keys are out of the ignition and in my pocket. I march to the front ofTipsy.The doorman looks me over and gives me a nod, not bothering to ask for my ID.
The bar is packed, but I’m sure this is nothing compared to how it is on the weekend.
I weave through tall bar tables full of people standing, swaying to the music, chatting and having a good time. I even catch a few eyes on me, running their gaze down my body as I step through. I could’ve sworn I even heard someone mutter “sexy” seductively at me. Flattered is the last thing I feel right now when blinding hot jealousy is raging through me.
My eyes scan the dancefloor, but at every turn, I come up empty.
I’m not one hundred percent sure what I’ll do once I find him here.
The jealous thoughts return full blaze.
What if he’s already with someone else?
What if he’s making out with someone in the bathroom? I’m not sure what I’ll do when it comes to him if this doesn’t prove that enough.
I feel pressure behind my eyes as I keep searching. Why can’t I find him? Jealousy is quickly turning into panic as fear washes through me. What if he’s in trouble and someone’s making him do something he doesn’t want to do?
Oh, Noah. Where are you?
I need to find him, right now. And after this, I’m getting him a damn phone.
