Page 99 of Almost Rotten

He’s so far gone for this girl.

I scoff at the notion.

Like I’m one to talk.

With a long exhale, I tuck a loose tendril of Sawyer’s hair behind her ear.

When I lift my gaze, Noah is watching me.

“Are you okay?” he starts.

I shake my head. I can’t lie about something like this. Not to him.

“Did anything that happened in the shower upset you?” he hedges, eyes cast down.

My chest constricts. “Noah. No.” Shifting closer, I rest my hand on his forearm until he gives me his attention. “Nothing we did upset me or changes anything between us. If this is going to go on,” I say, focusing on Sawyer for a moment, then him again, “we have to assume we’re going to be physically intimate to some degree.”

Noah nods, his expression stoic. “I really don’t think I’m bi,” he admits out loud.

I snort. I know for a fact he’s straight. Or, at the very least, he’s not into me. Although after our experience in the shower, I’m glad to know there’s a level of fluidity to what he’s willing to try. “Buddy, you don’t have to be anything or prescribe to any label.”

He presses his lips together, considering. “It doesn’t bother you that I don’t want you?”

Exhaling, I run a hand through my hair. “Honestly? No. Our friendship will always be the most significant relationship we share. And I’m good with that. More than good, honestly. Especially if it means we get to keep her.”

“I love you, Merce,” he says softly, his gaze drifting to Sawyer. “You’re the most important person in my life. Or, I guess I should say one of them now.”

“I love you, too,” I choke out. The words are hard for me to share. He knows that. He won’t press me on it. I’ve always been so protective of my heart, whether it was with romantic partners or my closest friends.

“What do you think caused her to break down earlier?” he whispers, still watching Sawyer sleep.

I love this man. But he’s so absurdly dense.

“Tremblay,” I hiss. “He’s a fucking menace. Rotten to the core.”

I peek down at Sawyer, too, my subconscious taking over, needing the reminder that she’s really here. Ensuring she hasn’t snuck off again.

I know damn well the second she’s out of my sight, I could lose her again.

It’s the not knowing that hurts the worst.

It’s the broken trust that has me doubting everything.

“He’s messing with her head,” I say, forcing my voice to even out. “She thinks she’s trapped. She was a mess when she showed up here tonight. She shouldn’t have been driving in that state. Then to just take off and run into the storm like that? What was she even thinking?”

She was thinking you were mad. That’s why she ran. She was thinking she wanted to get away from you.

I shake my head, dislodging the intrusive thoughts.

The duvet rustles as Noah shifts. “She’s better now, though, isn’t she?”

I rough a hand down my face and sigh.

No. We distracted her tonight. We’ve solved nothing. Whatever was going on, it’s not over, and we haven’t even begun to unpack the issue or figure out what happens next.

But I can’t tell Noah that.

Instead, I drop my hands to my lap and lower my head. “I think we have a better chance of keeping him from sinking his claws into her again if we keep her here.”