Chapter 152

Noah

Tossing and turning on the lumpy office couch, Noah checked his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The screen remained stubbornly blank, no new messages from Hannah.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting.

“Damn it, Hannah,” he muttered under his breath. “One simple thing. That’s all I asked.”

He had been clear about the conditions of her trip. If she didn’t want to bring a bodyguard, fine—well, not fine, but he couldn’t really argue with her—but she was supposed to text him each night to let him know she was safe. It wasn’t such an unreasonable thing for a husband to request of his wife, was it?

Rising from the sofa, Noah paced the length of his office, unable to shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. He knew Hannah could take care of herself, but still... couldn’t she see that he just wanted to make sure she was okay?

After another hour of restless pacing and compulsive phone-checking only to find that Hannah wasn’t texting him, Noah gave up on the idea of sleep. He grabbed his keys and headed out, figuring that a drink might help calm his nerves.

The bar was relatively quiet despite being a Friday night, not that Noah was complaining; he needed the solitude. Sighing, he slid onto a stool and ordered a whiskey, neat—his usual drink when he just needed something to calm his frayed nerves.

As he nursed his drink, his mind wandered back to Hannah. Things had been so strained between them lately. But then again, when had things not been strained between them? He couldn’t help but wonder if she was avoiding texting him on purpose, out of spite. That would be just like her.

Noah was so lost in thought that he barely registered the tap on his shoulder until he heard someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned, surprised to see Zoe standing there in a stunning sparkling red dress.

“Noah?” Zoe said, her eyes wide with surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you here at this late hour.”

Noah blinked, taking in her appearance. The sparkling red dress she wore hung all the way to the floor, hugging her curves at every point. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled, her eyes smoky and her lips red to match her dress.

“Zoe,” Noah said, turning. “You look… good.”

Zoe smiled coyly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. I, uh, actually work here now. I’m the lounge singer.”

“Really?” Noah said, genuinely impressed. “That’s great. You always had an amazing voice.”

“You’re too sweet,” Zoe said with a chuckle, touching his arm lightly as she did so. “I’m actually on break right now. Mind if I join you? Or are you with someone?”

Noah hesitated for a moment, then nodded toward the empty seat next to him. “Please, sit. I’m not with anyone.”

As Zoe settled onto the stool next to him, Noah couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she looked tonight. He hated that he noticed, but it was impossible not to; the dress clung to her waist perfectly, and her eyes almost seemed to sparkle in the low light of the bar. He figured that it was all intentional: late-night lounge singers were always dressed to shine, to catch the eyes of lonely men drinking at the bar and get them to spend more money on expensive alcohol.

“So,” Zoe said, leaning in slightly as she waited for her glass of red wine. “What brings you out tonight? Trouble sleeping?”

Noah sighed and shrugged as he ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “Something like that. Hannah’s out of town, and she didn’t want to bring a bodyguard. She promised she would text me before bed so I know she’s safe, but…”

As Noah spoke, Zoe’s hand found its way to his arm again. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said in a low voice. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Noah recoiled slightly at her touch. But there was no denying the fact that for a moment, just a moment, he was… tempted. It would be so easy to open up to Zoe, to let out all his frustrations and doubts.

And the way she was looking at him... well, it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind then. What if Hannah was cheating with Drake after all? Would it really be so bad if he...?

But no. Noah pushed the thought away immediately. He knew in his heart that Hannah wasn’t cheating. And even if she was, he wouldn’t stoop to that level. He wasn’t a cheater.

“Neither is Hannah,” his wolf growled in the back of his mind.

Noah cleared his throat and gently tugged his arm away from Zoe’s touch. “Thanks, but I’m okay. How about you? How’s the singing gig going?”

If Zoe was disappointed by the change in topic, she didn’t show it. She launched into an enthusiastic description of her new job, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. She was close to getting Adam back from her parents, and things were looking up.

As Noah listened, he couldn’t help but think back to that day that Hannah had tricked Zoe into going to the coffee shop. It seemed so insignificant now, although it had been a big deal then.

Had he been too harsh with Hannah? She had apologized to Zoe almost immediately. Maybe she really didn’t mean to hurt Zoe…

“Noah?” Zoe’s soft voice broke through his thoughts, and Noah blinked to see that she was looking at him and that he hadn’t touched his whiskey in some time. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem really distracted.”

Noah forced a smile and took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, sorry. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Zoe nodded sympathetically. “I understand. Listen, if you ever need someone to talk to…” Her voice trailed off as the bartender called her name. “Oh, that’s my cue. I’ve got to get back on stage. It was really good to see you, Noah.”

“You too, Zoe,” Noah said. “Break a leg up there.”

As Zoe walked away, Noah couldn’t help but watch her go. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to focus on fixing things with Hannah, not... whatever this mess was. Zoe was his ex; it was over. Their mate tie had been severed years ago, and he had no intention of rebuilding it.

Just then, a commotion near the door caught Noah’s attention. He looked up to see Drake striding into the bar, his eyes scanning the room like two arrows seeking their targets until they landed on Noah.

Drake’s face darkened as he approached, his fists clenched at his sides. “I knew it,” he spat. “I fucking knew it.”

Noah stood up, confused and irritated. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Drake said, gesturing toward the stage where Zoe was headed. “I saw you two together. How could you cheat on Hannah?”

Noah’s temper flared. “You’ve got it all wrong. Nothing is going on between me and Zoe.”

Drake scoffed. “Right. And I suppose you just happened to be at the same bar where she works, looking cozy and intimate?”

“Drake,” Zoe said slowly, coming back down from the stage, “what are you—”

“I didn’t even know she worked here,” Noah growled before Zoe could finish. “And what the hell are you doing following me, anyway?”

“Me? I’m protecting Hannah,” Drake shot back. “Someone has to do it, since you’re clearly not up to the task.”

Noah took a step forward, his wolf rising to the surface. Goddess, how he wanted to rip into Drake’s throat right then and there. “You don’t know a damn thing about me and Hannah.”

The two men stood toe to toe now, the tension crackling between them like electricity. The other patrons in the bar had gone quiet, watching the confrontation warily, and Zoe could only stand nearby with her hands wringing.

But then, suddenly, all three of their phones buzzed simultaneously. Noah pulled his out, seeing a group text from Hannah.

His heart raced as he opened it to see one word on the screen:

“WATERFALL!”