I decided to head to my loft. The two shots that I had drunk along with the two other glasses of alcohol did little to curb my anger and frustration.
"Hey Hunter," Noah's voice called from behind me. I didn't stop to look, but I could hear his feet as he trotted up and finally came up beside me.
"I'm not in the mood, Noah."
"No shit, Sherlock."
A part of me thought him and Andi would be perfect together, because they both had smart mouths.
Although in this case he kept his shut and just walked alongside me until we arrived at my loft. I went into the building and made my way up the stairs, every now and then glancing over at him with an expression that should've told him I didn't want him there with me. He just stared at me back with an expression of “too bad.”
When we got inside, I headed straight to the bar.
"Don’t you think you've had enough?" Noah asked.
"I'm still standing here, so clearly I haven't had enough."
"What if I make you some coffee and you can tell me what the fuck is going on with you."
"I don't want coffee. I want to get drunk. You can join me, or you can go."
Noah shrugged and came over to the bar grabbing a glass and holding it out for me to pour for him. I poured him a couple of fingers and then took the bottle with me to the couch.
Noah sat on the other couch across from me. He rested one arm over the back as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes watching me over the rim of the glass.
"I get it that you don't want to tell me what is going on. But that thing that just happened at your club, chances are someone filmed that, and I know how much you hate to have your bullshit on the Internet.”
I scraped my hand over my face. "Fuck."
"So, what is it about Natalie that has you going nuts? Are you in love with her?"
"No." I pointed at him for emphasis, "I'm not in love with her." I sipped my drink because my heart was rolling around my chest as if it was calling me a liar.
"Is it because that bullshit in the magazine?"
"She set me up."
Noah frowned. "How did she manage that? Why would she manage that?"
I shrugged. "Why do they all try to manage it?"
"You really are one cynical son of a bitch, aren’t you?"
"If you're going to stay here and drink with me, just drink. I don't want to talk about all this."
/> Noah shrugged affably. He finished his drink and then reached for the bottle. This time he poured himself half a finger. I drank from the bottle and before long I didn't know if Noah was there or not.
I woke up feeling like somebody was jack hammering in my head and had scraped my mouth out with sandpaper. And God dammit my chest still hurt.
I dug the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. I opened my eyes and saw Ryan sitting where Noah had been last night.
"The coffee is brewing. There's a glass of water and some pain reliever for you to take now."
"What happened to Noah?" I managed to sit up, but with the room spinning, it was hard to tell.
"Noah felt perfectly capable of drinking with you, but not able to sit here with you when you woke up in the aftermath."
I sought my brain wondering what aftermath beyond the fact that Natalie screwed me over, and we made a scene in my club. Had I done something else?