Page 18 of Vicious Arrangement (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #7)

Chapter Sixteen

NOAH

I walk home from the office that evening.

Have I ever fucking worked on a Sunday before? Voluntarily?

Honestly, I don’t think I have.

But after putting in solid hours and doing the majority of the work I need to hit tomorrow and the week that follows at a run, I feel good. Exhausted but fucking good.

Like I did something special.

Obviously, I didn’t.

People work weekends and way longer hours than I do all the time. My grandfather did.

And I can’t help wondering if it was partly the same reason I did. Avoidance.

For him, avoidance of me.

For me, avoidance of Aria.

But I suspect it’s all for very different reasons.

Part of my avoidance is how goddamn idiotic I was a few weeks ago. And that fucked-up apology that I couldn’t stop spooling out.

Shit, all I needed to do was tell her I’m sorry and I’m a little tipsy.

All I needed to do was not lose my shit over the sandwich, which, if I examined it, wasn’t about the fucking pathetic thing. Or, if I’m brutally honest, simply text her back over the dinner invite to see what it was she wanted.

I’m not a kid.

And she deserved more than me ghosting her text like the arrogant dick I am.

I move through the streets, dodging the slow tourists as I go, the lights of the city bringing a different sort of life to the place as the evening deepens.

It’s not overly late. I check my watch. Coming on eight. Late, I guess, enough.

Normally, I enjoy the sounds of the city, all the noise and chaotic life exploding around me. But not right now. I slip in my ear pods and pull up some Mozart and hit play.

Before the piano sonata can soothe that part of my soul it’s interrupted by my phone ringing. I answer.

“Joshy,” Asher says, “is very excited and wants to know what to bring. He thinks it should be cake, ice cream, and candy and Lego, but I told him I’d check with you.”

“About what?”

Asher laughs. “You’re not home yet? You better not be stepping out, man.”

“I was at work. What are you on about? Did one of us have a fall?”

“Aria invited me and Josh over for dinner tomorrow night. I know what you want to drink, but we’ll bring dessert. What do you think?”

“Lego.”

“A little hard to chew.”

My head spins as my heart beats hard. “What the fuck are you on about, Asher?” I shoot a glare at a tourist standing in the middle of the fucking pavement staring up at a skyscraper.

“Dinner. Tomorrow. Aria invited us.”

I’m even more confused. When the fuck did she do that and how? I mean, clearly with words, but I haven’t seen her, she’s been avoiding me and what… sneaking around with my best friend?

The burst of jealousy is so sudden I can’t breathe. And it overrides common sense.

“Why?” I snap. “And how?”

“I imagine she’s a little bored with your soft demeanor and wants someone snarky and standoffish and unreasonable to talk to,” he says, which does nothing to improve my mood.

Then he sighs.

“We ran into each other earlier. She was back from a run, and I was filling in time waiting for Josh’s playdate to finish.”

“In Manhattan?”

“In Manhattan. Greenwich. Some group thing. And we got chatting. Sasquatch is adorable by the way,” he says.

I clench my hands as I speed up. I don’t like them running into each other, and for some reason, I don’t like his tone about the dog, as if not only he likes the hellhound and pillow destroyer, but the hellhound likes him.

And I don’t like that they had coffee.

Actually, I really don’t like any of it. The whole thing stinks. It sits like lead inside me and makes me want to kick things.

“That’s great,” I snarl.

“Don’t worry, I’m not moving in on your girl or anything, though she is a catch,” Asher jokes.

“She’s not my girl,” I say, grinding out the words and trying to keep my temper under control.

“Sure, you just keep telling yourself that, tough guy,” Asher says.

I clench my jaw. He’s fucking smirking, I can see it in my head. The smirk soaks his words. I don’t have to see him to know the asswipe’s smirking.

“Whatever, man,” I say. “Bring cupcakes. Josh loves those and he can choose something vile for himself and you choose the grown-up ones.”

“Great. See you tomorrow. Look after your girl. Say hi to Angus.”

I growl as he hangs up.

The music starts again. Truth is, though, I don’t know because as much as she’s been avoiding me, I’ve made it easy by working a lot, and avoiding her, too. I call it giving her space, focusing on the business but…

Yeah.

It’s also called avoidance.

I can be man enough to admit that.

And the closer I get to home, the more I can admit I’m not ready to go in.

She might be home. She might not, but… fuck.

I turn off the music and head into a bar.

My plans, however, of just getting a glass of courage is ruined by some blonde with fake tits, long legs, and a short skirt with too much makeup and jewelry.

She sashays up, making eyes and sliding her fingers down my tie.

The antithesis of Aria, and I think I prefer the real deal to doll-like. Aria doesn’t wear much makeup, or jewelry, and her nails are short. She’s no fashion horse, either, not that I have anything against girls dressing up. I like eye candy. I just seem to know like certain eye candy.

“Sorry. Taken,” I say, holding up my hand to show her the ring.

The girl shrugs. I remove her hand and look about the crowded bar and decide this is enough courage for me.

I just leave.

This is what’s out there? It hasn’t changed, so maybe I have, and what’s at home is a hell of a catch. Maybe I need to stop ignoring her.

I stop dead in the street, and someone bumps into me, muttering nasty words that I ignore.

Shit. Am I ignoring her because she’s an unexpected catch, that the chemistry is more than flash in the pan but something that keeps increasing? Because it does. And the more time I spend with her the more I like her and maybe I’ll fall hard?

“Is there something wrong with falling in love?” I mutter under my breath, walking again. I know I want my friend to find happiness and I thought maybe, one day in a future that was so far ahead it wasn’t mine I’d fall. But now?

Why not now?

Something cold slithers in my blood. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. The sex is amazing, she’s funny, smart, caring and doesn’t take bullshit. We’re fucking married. Why can’t I just let her in.

We’re married.

It’s not going to change.

It’d be nothing to just take a chance and see where it goes…

The coldness coils around my heart and guts.

I know why. Deep down, rejection waits. It wants to strike like I deserve it.

Asher hasn’t left, but he’s my best friend. We’ve known each other forever. And Joshy is four.

Others left. And the most important person did, too.

My mom. She loved me. And left. Not on her own, I know that, but…

shit, my own father, a brute who abused her and beat me, put fear into us and I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t stop her crying.

Shit. I couldn’t even save her. I caused it, I think.

She was so scared because of me. I made her more scared.

And she kept putting off leaving to get it right. I have bursts of memories of that.

And he killed her.

Years of domestic abuse, and he killed her because she… she hid me. Then he couldn’t find me and killed himself, and my grandfather…

He looked at me like it was my own fault.

Like I killed her.

Like I was my father.

And maybe I am. Maybe I’m just like him.

Who would want the son of an abuser, of a murderer, a guy who couldn’t protect his mom? Worse.

What if I am like him?

No, it’s better this way. Me, keeping Aria at a distance.

When I get in, Aria’s on the terrace with her beast dog off the grand room, and I storm out to her, the warm lights on the terrace giving the evening a nice glow.

Her horse growls. I ignore him.

I point at her. “Why the fuck are you making plans behind my back?”

She closes her iPad, gets up from her seat, and starts inside, and I take her arm, the electricity zapping through me. “What are you on about?”

“Inviting people here? My best friend. Without fucking consulting me.”

She tugs at her arm and I reluctantly let her go, but she stands her ground, Angus growling a little louder. “Angus, no.” Then she looks at me. And I can’t read her expression. It’s calm but I think I can see a little anger, too. Good. “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to do anything.”

“This is my apartment.”

She nods. Yeah, definitely anger. “Your apartment?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s that kind of marriage, is it, where I’m essentially your chattel?”

I narrow my eyes. “No. You’re twisting things.”

“I’m not. You ignore me, you throw out my sandwich, you ignore my text, and you give me a rambling sort-of apology and can’t take ‘leave me alone I’ve had a shitty day’ for an answer because the world revolves around little Mr. Rich Dude.

So I invited your friend and his kid over.

So fucking what? Do you want me to pay rent so it’s my place too? ”

“You couldn’t afford it.”

“Take off the fees for putting up with you, and I’m guessing you’d be paying me.”

“You wish.”

She glares at me. “You’re not exactly the catch you think you are, Noah. Hot gets you only so far. I’m beginning to see why it’s been a string of endless one-night stands for you.”

I almost tell her I had a girlfriend years ago who ripped out my heart an left me. Another I forgot for my list, but I somehow stop myself.”

“And what kind of catch are you? Chasing down my best friend?”

“You’re jealous.”

I stalk up close. “I am not.” Then I pause. “Is there something to be jealous over?”

“No. God, I thought I’d do something nice, and he’s a nice guy.”

Then she turns and storms inside. I follow her, and her dog thing follows me, still growling.

“Nice. What does that mean?” I demand.

In the kitchen, she stops at the island, and slams her iPad down, and comes at me.