He needed to get himself in check. Soon.
Lifting a hand, he wiped blood away from his nose, knowing his shifter healing had already kicked in, healing what he was pretty sure had been a broken nose. He saw Tarun talking to the other human and the woman, and he turned around to right the fallen chairs, glancing down at the blood on his hand. A gasp floated over to him, one he heard easily with his enhanced hearing, even over the noise from the jukebox and human patrons.
Glancing up idly, he stopped in his tracks like he’d slammed into a brick wall as he spotted the woman staring at him by the door. Her blue eyes were wide, horror filling them as her gaze darted from his hand to his nose before locking with his eyes. One of her hands was covering her mouth as she stared at him, shaking her head slowly.
“Noah? What… where… why…” her voice trailed off as she lowered her hand, staring at him like she didn’t believe what she was seeing.
He felt like the whole world froze for a moment. Like he was stuck in the past and the present at the same time, like they were layering themselves over each other.
Because standing in front of him was Lily Abrams—Brandon’s wife. He hadn’t seen her since Brandon’s funeral, and fuck, the sight of her stole his breath. For a second, it was like a time warp, and he half expected to see Brandon walk up behind her, laughing and joking like always.
Except that wouldn’t happen. Because Brandon was dead. His friend was dead, and by rights, Noah should have been, as well.
And then time seemed to snap back in focus, and he was firmly in the present, grief and guilt washing over him in equal measure as he stared at his friend’s widow.
Clearing his throat, he wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans as he took a few steps forward, trying to speak but only managing one word.
“Lily.”
Chapter Two
“I promise I’m okay. See, the bleeding’s stopped. No need to fuss over me.”
Lily frowned at Noah with irritation. “You got punched in the nose, and I swear I heard the crunch from over by the door. You’re not okay. I see your love of watching fights turned into you doing them in real life.”
“I wasn’t exactly in a fight. I was punched while trying to stop one. Big difference.”
Rolling her eyes, she ignored his words as she looked at his nose. When she walked in to see him in a fight, there’d been a part of her that was in shock because she’d finally found him. Her last ditch effort to locate him had worked.
And there was a part that hadn’t been at all surprised to see him in a fight. Not because he did a lot of it when she knew him, but because he and Brandon used to watch MMA fights all the time. She never understood the appeal, but they’d loved it. It felt natural to see him involved in a fight.
She frowned, not sure why that was. It wasn’t like she’d really known him all that well. He’d never spoken to her much, so why she assumed she knew anything about him at all was weird.
And even if she had known him well, she hadn’t seen him in three years. That was a lot of time for a person to change. Especially when their whole life imploded, like hers had.
Forcing those thoughts out of her mind, she focused on his injury, frowning when she didn’t see any swelling. In fact, there was nothing to suggest he’d been hurt at all, and that made no sense. She saw how hard he was punched—saw him wipe away blood. There should be some sort of evidence of the hit.
Cocking her head, she studied him closely, wondering why she suddenly felt suspicious. Other than the new beard, he seemed the same as he’d always been. Still a mountain of a man, towering over her when they’d both been standing. He was sitting in front of her and he still came up to her shoulders.
He was still thickly muscled, his t-shirt clinging to his body, his huge arms decorated with a few more tattoos than he had three years ago. He was wearing a ballcap pulled low on his brow, hiding his light green eyes from her, but she knew they were the same—including his white-blond eyelashes that were such a striking difference to his dark hair. He had a strong nose set atop thin lips that still managed to look soft, even though the rest of him was chiseled and strong.
Really, the main difference was his beard. In the military, soldiers weren’t allowed to have beards. The only facial hair permitted was a mustache, and she’d never seen him with one. The beard he was sporting was full and thick, and surprisingly attractive on him.
Wait. Attractive? No, no, no. She hadn’t noticed whether any man she met was attractive since Brandon died, and she wasn’t about to start with his best friend.
Inhaling deeply, she backed away, putting a little more distance between them. She wasn’t at all comfortable with realizing how much he appealed to her, and it was a thought she needed to nip in the bud.
“I don’t get it. I know you were hurt, but I can’t even tell.”
His eyes shot to hers, his brow furrowing, and then he cleared his throat as he shook his head quickly. “I didn’t get punched that hard. Barely felt it, really, so of course there wasn’t damage.”
“I saw it, Noah. And I saw the blood. Of course there should be signs.”
He shrugged, looking away from her as he stood up. “I just heal quickly.”
Her eyes narrowed as the suspicion she suddenly felt earlier welled up inside her. “Noah—”