Page 128 of The Addict

SILAS

I half expected it to be Damian knocking, yet again, and was ready for a fight this time if he so much as touched me. I whipped open the door.

“Noah?” I asked in bewilderment. What was he thinking? It was late as shit. “What the hell?” I grasped onto his shoulders, unable to believe what I was seeing.

“Can I come in?” he whispered, hugging his arms to his body. He looked unsteady on his feet, and was breathing fast, almost like he had been running. He had his eyes clamped closed tightly.

I yanked my cell out of my pocket and accessed our security app. I cut the front door cameras. I would have to delete that footage later, so that Jace didn’t see Noah on our porch.

“What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is? Shit—” My words stopped short, and instantly I assumed he could’ve been hurt again.

Tears were streaming down Noah’s face, and he was already pressing himself closer to the opening of the door, closer to me.

“Are you okay?” I murmured, unable to keep the worry from my tone as I inspected him for injury.

“I’m scared,” he uttered softly. He clutched his head, eyes opening now, wide and searching for something that wasn’t there. He stumbled again and looked over his shoulders abruptly. “I just– I don’t even know why I’m here, I–”

“You’re drunk,” I said with a growl, realizing. Not even drunk. Fucking plastered. Now that I had time to adjust to the outside air I could smell it on him. He reeked.

Noah teetered off balance, proving my conviction. Sighing, I slid an arm behind his back, supporting him and catching him from the fall that was sure to come if he kept tripping over himself.

“Can I please come inside?” he practically begged, his fingers pulling on my shirt, his head lolling against my chest.

“Shut up,” I ordered, already leading him into my house. “You don’t have to ask twice.”

I didn’t even know how I was able to get him upstairs. With each step Noah gagged, and I knew it was a matter of time before he got sick. I nearly threw up watching him. He had to have drank far past his limits, because I didn’t think I’d ever seen him this bad before. Each step up seemed to take five years, and I almost considered lifting him up bridal style, just to get him into the room faster.

“Your brother is going to kill me,” I muttered, finally reaching my room and leading Noah to the bed. There was no way around it anymore. Damian Hansen would be after my ass, no question.

“I’m sorry!” Noah loudly proclaimed and then let out a little laugh when I plopped him onto the bed.

“This is your room?” he asked, his words sloppily thrown together. He peered around excitedly, and it occurred to me then that he hadn’t seen the inside of my house before, let alone my bedroom.

I ignored his ridiculous question and bent down to take off his shoes.

“Mm, are we gonna fuck?” he asked suddenly, reaching one of his hands into my hair and pulling out my bun with a tug.

Jesus.

“No, Noah, we aren’t going to fuck.” I shook his hand away before he could take hold of my hair. Half of me thought his drunk attitude was quite entertaining, the other half felt tired already.

“But look, you’re already down there, on your knees,” he cackled, pulling his foot away as I reached to take off the second shoe.

“Noah,” I growled. “Stop moving.”

“Or what?”

I glared up at him and he spread his legs wide, giving me a full view of his crotch.

“You gonna punish me?” he taunted.

If only he knew how badly I wanted to.

“Don’t worry Noah,” I assured. “I’ll punish you when you can remember it.”

“What if I want it… now?”

Finally, I wrestled the shoe off. None of that mattered though, because Noah slid down off the bed like a melting popsicle glides off the stick. He curled into my chest, his face inches from my nose. His hands reached up to cup my cheek and I couldn’t resist the urge I had to wrap my arms around him. He fit so nicely there.