Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) (13 page)

He seems to have made the exact same decision about me and we just sit quietly, staring at each other until I finally have the good grace to look at my hands. And then my nerves catch up with me and tears try to well up in my eyes but damn it, I will
not
cry. There’s no real reason to cry other than the words
I’m in love with you
hanging in the air between us. But if we get real honest here, those words have been hanging in the air between us for weeks now.

They were in the way I looked at him. The way I touched him. The way I calmed down when he was near. The way I craved his laughter. Lingered on his words. Lost myself in his eyes.

Hell, they hung so clearly in the air that just now, Luke saw them and left.

So why cry now? Because I finally had the guts to say them out loud? Because I’ve finally found the strength to force him to acknowledge them? That’s all it took I guess, a ball gown and a near death experience. So, thank you very much, but I respectfully choose
not
to cry. Instead, I’ll look him in the eye and wait to hear whatever it is he has to say.

“How long?” Noah’s drawing lazy circles on his knee with his finger, eyes unfocused and uncertain.

“How long have I been in love with you?” I ask. It’s a plain question, devoid of emotion, a simple search for clarity.

“Ya,” he says. “That.”

“I think since the first time we spoke.”

He rubs his hands on his thighs and swallows, exasperation tightening his features. “Don’t try to be silly or romantic. Show me some respect and be real.”

Respect. What’s he think I’ve been doing since we had to move in here? I’ve been respectful of his need for distance. Respectful of his hurt feelings. Or lack of feelings. Or whatever it is he’s been dealing with. But I think I’m still too worn out to put up a fight. There’s no flare of anger, no surge of indignation. Hell, not even the sting of tears in my eyes.

“I’m not being silly. That first day you spoke to me was the first time I felt
seen
in my whole life. You can’t imagine what that felt like. And then, when I got to know you, I discovered that you were everything I’ve ever needed. Peaceful and kind. Intelligent and driven. Strong and controlled and so patient. You’ve let me be me and never made me feel bad for how broken and flawed I am.”

“You’re not broken or flawed.”

I beg to differ but don’t feel like fighting with him right now. So I smile and shrug my shoulders. Noah’s quiet for a while and I don’t press him. Of all the people out there, I think I understand the need to sit silently and mull the important stuff over for a bit.

“Then why Luke? Why?” Noah finally asks, standing up. His face is raw and I think I’m speaking directly to his heart now.

“They put a spell on me—”

“I know all about the spell. I could forgive the spell. You had no idea what was being done to you. But Zoe? They removed the spell. It was
after
the spell was gone that I found you in his arms…” Noah turns away from me, shaking his head.

“Put yourself in my place for a moment.” I slide my feet off the couch, but don’t quite trust myself to stand. “Everything I thought I knew about me, about my life, about Becca, about Luke, they were all lies. Nothing made sense. Luke worked hard to make me fall in love with him. He was everything I needed in the way you were everything I needed. The only difference was that his version of the whole thing was an act.” I try to stand again, reach out for Noah, silently beg him to turn around. “In the midst of all that, I didn’t know how much of what I felt was real. I knew he was a liar and a jerk, but I … my heart …”

Noah still hasn’t turned around and this is definitely not going the way I hoped it would. I probably just ruined all the weeks of being patient, waiting for him to forgive me. Probably just ruined all the ground we’d been gaining.

I probably just lost Noah.

“My feelings for Luke were based on a lie. I knew it, in my head, my heart just couldn’t believe it yet. I snuck out that night and got the closure I needed. You’re the one I love. Not him. That was true then. It’s still true now.”

Noah just sighs and leans his head against the wall. The tears that I wasn’t ready to shed just a few minutes ago are very much ready to make an appearance now. All that stuff about words hanging in the air and being strong enough to make him acknowledge what he already knew? Ya. That’s all bullshit. I’d gladly go back to me not saying anything and him not saying anything and the two of us just being OK again.

I watch his back for what feels like forever before I pull myself to my feet and stagger down the hallway, using one hand on the wall for support, and pass through my room into the bathroom. I strip out of the ruined ball gown and let it fall to the floor, a glittering mess of blood and seawater. I need a shower, but I’m not strong enough to stand, so I sit on the floor of the tub and let the water pelt my head. My hair hangs in long strands, reaching past my face, and landing on the porcelain and where it streams towards the drain along with the water. I sit there til the water runs clean and the blood is gone. Somehow I manage soap and shampoo and I sit there some more until the water starts to go cold.

And then I keep on sitting there while goosebumps prickle up over my skin and my teeth start to chatter. I finally drag myself up and turn off the water when my hands start to look a little blue. Wrap myself in a towel. Run a brush through my hair. Pull on my warmest pj’s. Realize that I’ve been wearing Barnabe’s amulet and take it off. Drop it in the pile of ruined ball gown on the floor of the bathroom.

I crawl into bed, not sure how I feel about anything. I’d like to say I’m numb, but that’s too trite, too easy. I’m more than numb. It’s like I’m just … off. My body’s acting on some kind of reflex system, but my brain is just … off. I feel nothing.

I’m just pulling the covers up to my still quivering jaw with my still shaky hands when there’s a knock at my door. I say nothing and press my face into my pillow. I hear the handle rattle as whoever’s on the other side turns it and presses into my room.

“Zoe?” It’s Noah and I can’t help myself from turning towards his voice. “I brought you some hot chocolate.”

I press myself into a sitting position and accept the cup. The warmth feels so good on my hands. Noah perches on the edge of my bed and rests his elbows on his knees.

“You OK?”

I just look at him and shrug. Take a sip of the drink he brought and am glad it’s not coffee. I’m not sure why he’s here, but I really don’t have the energy for a long discussion about why he doesn’t love me. I don’t need him to apologize. It’s been a long day. What with the too much magic last night. And the creepy party. And the whole dying thing.

“I thought,” Noah begins and then clears his throat. “I thought I could use a little more healing magic on you.” He finally looks at me.

“Thank you. But I’ll be OK.” I most definitely won’t be OK, but I don’t want to take anything else from him right now.

“Please let me do this for you.” There’s a something in his voice, something I don’t understand or recognize. Since I’m so tired of fighting, of being strong when I don’t feel strong, I just nod my head, give in, and put the mug he brought me down on the bedside table. He scoots closer and takes my hands. There’s the rush of his magic sweeping through me and the answering rush of my own racing out to greet his. I sigh and I slump as the magic goes to work, healing all that’s broken, bringing life back to my nothingness.

And then there’s his hand on my cheek and his breath on my lips. I open my eyes and he’s staring so intently into mine, ever so close. My lips part. My eyes well and I want to say I’m sorry but I can’t because he’s kissing me. Devouring me. Claiming me. I want to sink into it but I find myself pushing him away.

“Wait. Noah. Wait.”

He’s shocked and he’s hurt and his lips look so wonderful. “What?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want your pity. I love you. You don’t love me. I have loved you and you haven’t loved me. Not much has changed except I was stupid enough to say it out loud.”

“I never said I didn’t love you.”

“You never said you did.”

“Well I’m saying it now.”

“As far as I can tell, you haven’t said a thing.”

Noah pulls back and swallows. “I love you, Zoe. I have loved you. I will love you.” He smiles. “Now won’t you please kiss me? It’s been too goddamned long.

********

The sheets are a rumpled mess, my legs all tangled up in them, and Noah’s chest is warm against my cheek. I listen to his heartbeat and the breath in his lungs as the sun comes up and announces the arrival of a new day. I’ve been thinking about sneaking out of bed for a while now, making him some coffee, some breakfast. Lord knows he’s taken care of me enough lately. It just seems so nice here, lying next to him in bed, our bodies pressed close.

But, now that I’m thinking about coffee and eggs and bacon, I think I’ll go ahead and do my best to surprise him. Ever so gently, I slide out of bed and slip on some clothes. Pad out the door and into the kitchen. Notice Luke’s closed door and realize he came home sometime last night.

I get the coffee brewing and find myself smiling for no good reason other than just being insanely happy over what happened between Noah and me last night. I mean, not just the sex — and don’t get me wrong, the sex was amazing — but to finally say what I’ve been feeling. To finally hear him say it in return. So it took me dying to get us there. What matters is that it happened.

And I can’t wait for it to happen again. And again. And again.

And this time I really am talking about the sex.

The coffee smells good and the bacon’s sizzling in the pan and I think what this morning needs is a little bit of music. I find my purse and fish out my phone, ready to open up Pandora and pick a station that’ll supplement my perma-smile. The notification light’s blinking.

Shit.

I forgot all about my mom. She probably got my text and got confused and tried to call. When I turn on the screen, I don’t see a missed call. It’s a text. OK, maybe she’s finally getting the hang of modern technology. That’d be a nice change of pace.

She actually sent me two texts. One’s a picture that has my heart just about ready to explode out of my chest. There she is, next to dad, big smiles on their faces, waving. That’s not what’s got me so upset. The thing that has my heart doing its best tribal drum impression is that they’re standing right next to Lucy.

Chapter Sixteen

I try to read Mom’s text, but my emotions get in the way. What the hell is she doing with Lucy? That’s a stupid question. I know what she’s doing with Lucy. Lucy figured out that I was killing off all her worker bees and decided to put a swift and screeching stop to that. Found herself some leverage in the shape of my mom and dad.

I try to read the text again, but my hands might as well be encased in mittens. My phone clatters to the floor and I curse. And then the smoke alarm starts shrieking at the burning bacon and I can’t decide which problem to fix first. Noah comes stumbling out of the bedroom, hair all mussed, chest all bare, and I should be allowed to drink in that sight and enjoy it.

But I guess those kinds of good mornings are for girls with normal lives.

I sweep the bacon off the stove while Noah fans the smoke alarm. “I guess there’s a reason you never make breakfast,” he says, his smile sweet and loving.

I don’t respond. Just pick up my phone and hand it to him. He takes it as the smoke alarm stops beeping and Luke staggers into the living room, still wearing last night’s clothes and smelling of whiskey.

“What’s this?” asks Noah, bringing the phone close to see the picture.

“My parents.” My hands are on my hips and my heart is in my throat.

“Is that Lucy?”

I nod. “What’s the text say? I couldn’t read it.”

Noah flashes a worried look my way. “It says
thanks for sending Lucy, can’t wait for your surprise
.” He looks up. “What’s this about?”

I fill him in on the strange text from Mom the other day. Or was that just yesterday? It’s crazy how much can change overnight. Luke lumbers over and swipes the phone from Noah, stares blearily at the screen, and drops into a chair at the kitchen table, head in his hands.

I’m a mess. My hands are trembling and my heart is stuttering and my stomach is twisting with nerves. I can’t get a coherent thought out, not even close. I’m just starting and abandoning sentences, a hodgepodge of sound and energy. Noah takes hold of my shoulders, guides me to the table and sits me down next to Luke. Stillness feels like a prison sentence and Luke stinks so bad I stand right back up and start pacing.

“What am I going to do?” I finally get a thought out and it’s more rhetorical question than anything else. I don’t expect either one of them to have an answer.

“We.” Noah sits down and reaches for my hand. Guides me back to my chair. “What are
we
gonna do. You’re not in this alone.”

Luke’s staring at the way Noah’s thumb is caressing mine, my mussed hair, Noah’s lack of a shirt. He grunts a little, a derisive sound, and drops his eyes to the table.

“Right, Luke?” Noah asks. “She’s not in this alone.”

“Sure. Course not.” Luke looks up and his eyes are all watery and unfocused. “Zoe’s gonna be fine.”

I’m not sure how to take him right now, and I feel like focusing on one crisis at a time. Whatever’s happening with Luke, he’s gonna have to wait in line.

“So, now what?” My thoughts are still spinning and I can’t quite get them all lined straightened out so I can start on a plan. I’m still stuck on the fact that Lucy has my parents. My parents are in danger because of me. And Lucy knew just what button to push to strike me with a mortal blow.

“We rescue your parents, that’s what.” Noah’s in full on ‘knight in shining armor’ mode.