Offside Hearts: Chapter 40

Not long after Noah leaves to grab us drinks, an older couple who seem to be good friends with the Blakes come over and engage both Mrs. Blake and Brent in conversation. Nobody seems to feel the need to introduce me, but luckily, I’m saved from the awkwardness of just standing there in silence when Brent’s wife takes a seat at the table.

I join her, pulling out the chair beside hers and holding out my hand. “Hi, we haven’t met yet. I’m Margo.”

“Gwen,” she says, smiling as we shake hands. She has a pretty face and ethereal features, which are enhanced by the delicate earrings she’s wearing.

“You must be pretty proud of your husband,” I say, glancing around at all the opulence surrounding us.

“Oh, I am. He worked really hard to get here, and he deserves this award more than anyone else.” She leans a little closer, lowering her voice. “He should’ve won it last year, but there were some weird industry politics going on, and it went to someone else who nobody felt had earned it.”

“That’s a shame. I guess that kind of stuff happens in every industry.” I chuckle wryly. “It must be fun coming to events like this, though.”

She smiles, revealing the most perfect teeth I’ve ever seen, but it looks a little strained. “It is. Although they’re really work events for Brent, more about networking than just having a good time. Which means there’s not much for me to do.”

“Is the food good, at least?”

“Usually, yes.”

I grin. “Perfect. As long as there’s good food, I’m in.”

We talk for a while longer, making idle conversation. Gwen is sweet, but from the way she describes their lives together, I get the sense that Brent is a bit of a workaholic. She seems sort of lonely.

I’m in the middle of asking her what she does for a living when I spot Noah out of the corner of my eye and lose my train of thought mid-sentence.

He’s making his way toward us, and he looks really upset. I push my shoulders back and smile as he approaches, but even my positive expression can’t seem to cut through whatever he’s feeling right now.

“We’re leaving,” he bites out once he’s close enough for me to hear. He’s got two Manhattans in his hands, which he passes off to Gwen. “Here, you can have these.”

She takes them, glancing at Brent and Mrs. Blake with a confused frown. The older couple has walked away, so now it’s just the Blakes and me gathered in this far corner of the room.

“Come on, Margo, let’s go,” Noah says, standing stiffly beside the table.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my heart thudding.

He nods, his jaw clenched, and that’s all I need. Just that single gesture lets me know that he has to get out of this room as soon as possible, and I’m not about to argue.

“Alright then,” I murmur, pushing my chair back and rising. “Let’s go.”

Noah takes my hand, but before we can leave, Mrs. Blake steps forward. “Where are you going?” she asks. “The award hasn’t even been given out yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Noah mutters, looking mostly at Brent when he apologizes. “But we have to go.”

“Why?” his mother presses.

“Ask dad,” he says darkly, then turns around once more. This time, we leave without anyone stopping us.

After we get the car back from the valet, Noah opens my door for me and then climbs in behind the wheel, gunning the engine. We drive back to my apartment in total silence, and the aura of hurt and anger radiating from Noah makes my heart ache. I don’t know what happened at that hotel, but whatever it was, it got him more upset than I’ve ever seen him.

My stomach twists itself into a knot as his agitation bleeds into me. I hate seeing him like this, and even more than that, I hate knowing that it was his own family that made him so upset.

When we finally pull up outside my apartment, Noah throws the car into park. Neither of us says anything for a few charged seconds, and I look over at him in the dim light of the car. His jaw is clenched tight, and he’s gazing down at the steering wheel with such a fixed stare that I’m sure he’s not really seeing it.

“Do you want to come up?” I ask quietly.

He looks over at me, some emotion I can’t quite name churning in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “I do.”

We get out and take the stairs up to my apartment. The second we get inside, I turn to face him, resting my hands on either side of his jaw. I can feel the tension in it beneath my fingertips, and I tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

“What can I do?” I whisper. “What do you need?”

His arms wrap around me suddenly, pulling me against him as he buries his face against my shoulder. The embrace is so tight that I almost can’t breathe, but I just hug him back, my eyes burning.

“Just… let me hold you, Sunflower,” he pleads. “Let me have you.”

“You do have me.” My hands stroke up and down his back. “You have me. I’m right here, Noah. I’m right here.”

I keep murmuring those words over and over, and eventually, Noah lifts his head, his lips finding my skin. I cling to him as he kisses my throat and works his way up to my jaw and cheeks, then over my nose and to my lips. He walks me backward toward the bedroom, both of us tugging off our clothes as we go.

From the way his eyes darkened and the way he kissed me when he saw me in this dress earlier, I was pretty damn sure we’d be having sex tonight—but this is completely different than I expected.

When he lays me out on the bed, there’s an almost single-minded purpose to his movements. He touches me like he’s trying to commit every curve of my body to memory, burying his face between my legs as if he’s trying to drown in me.

When he works his way up my body again and presses inside my slick pussy, he stares down at my face, his eyes as deep as twin oceans. There’s something fierce and almost desperate about the way he fucks me, each thrust so hard that it punches the air out of my lungs.

I’m panting, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as the sounds of his groans and my whimpers mingle in the air. He’s usually the king of dirty talk, but tonight, he barely says a word, kissing me over and over even as his heavy thrusts keep threatening to tear our lips apart. He makes me come on his cock like that, so consumed by him that I can barely think about anything else, and when my orgasm triggers his, he rests his forehead against mine, nearly bruising my hips as he buries himself inside me one last time.

The room gets a little quieter, the bed no longer squeaking out its complaints beneath us. Unlike Noah’s bedframe, mine has never quite been able to handle the force with which he fucks me.

Reaching up, I run my fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face as he lifts his head. I’m relieved to see that the raw edge of pain has bled out of his features, but there’s still something intense in his expression.

“Are you okay?” I ask, resting my palm on his cheek.

He closes his eyes for a second, leaning into my touch. Then he opens them, his eyes shining in the dim light.

“I love you, Margo,” he whispers.

My heart squeezes, my jaw falling open.

It’s just four little words, spoken so simply, but they rearrange the world as I know it. My chest feels tight, the space between my ribs too small to contain the emotions that rush up inside me. Tears well in my eyes, but I blink rapidly, clearing them away so that I can see his face. His handsome features are shadowed in the dim light, but still so achingly familiar.

“I love you too,” I breathe.

The words come so easily that I realize I’ve been dying to say them. Waiting to say them. Holding them in my heart like a truth I wasn’t quite brave enough to speak into the world yet. But now that I’ve said them, I know I’ll never want to take them back.

Noah smiles, the first real one I’ve seen on his face all night. Then he leans down and kisses me, his lips warm and firm against mine. His cock is still inside me, and although I’m glad he didn’t tell me he loved me during the height of sex, it feels fitting to hear those words for the first time while we’re as close as two people can be, our bodies intertwined the same way our hearts are.

“I love you so fucking much,” he repeats, and I grin against his lips.

Wrapping an arm around me, he rolls over onto his back, bringing me with him so that I’m draped over his chest. I stack my hands on his chest and rest my chin on them, and he props his head up on a pillow so that he can look down at me.

He plays idly with my hair, running his fingers through it. “Sorry I dragged you out of there. I didn’t mean for the night to go like that.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t drag me. I wanted to be where you were, so if you wanted to go, I was happy to.” I bite my lip. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He sighs. “The same thing that always happens, only worse. Every time I see my family, they find some way to make me feel like shit about my choices. To make me feel like I abandoned them somehow just by following my own dreams. My dad has this way of saying shit that just… sticks between my ribs, you know?” His jaw tightens. “But then he started saying shit about you, and I just couldn’t handle it.”

“About me?” My stomach dips uncomfortably. I wasn’t exactly expecting to become close with Noah’s family, since he’s not really close with them himself, but I’m still surprised by this revelation. “Like what?”

He shakes his head, some of the anger returning to his face. “It doesn’t matter. None of it was true. But it just made me fucking furious. It’s one thing for my family to hurt me, but I won’t let them hurt you.”

The protective edge to his voice makes my heart ache with love, and I press a kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“No, I’m sorry.” He rolls us over again, his cock slipping out of me. A trickle of cum slides down my inner thigh as he braces himself over me, his expression serious. “I shouldn’t have put you in that situation. It won’t happen again. I’m so fucking lucky I found you, and if my dad can’t see that and be happy for me—for us—then he’s even more selfish and close-minded than I thought.”

I nod, reaching up to run my hands over his shoulders. I still hate that Noah has such awful, complicated feelings about his family. I hate that things are so messed up between them, and that there’s nothing I can do to fix it. But I can be here for him. I can support him and love him.

And maybe that’s enough.

We talk for a while longer, nestled together in the bed, our voices quiet and intimate.

After several minutes, Noah goes to the bathroom to grab a warm towel before cleaning me up the way he often does after sex. He pulls the covers back so that I can slip beneath them, then crawls into bed beside me.

And when he tucks me against his warm, muscled body, it feels like… home.