Page 27 of Vicious Arrangement (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #7)

Chapter Twenty-Two

NOAH

After sex Thursday, I haven’t seen much of Aria. I know she was here all day Friday.

I wasn’t spying, but Carrie left me a note stating to let Andre know if my wife was still under the weather Monday, as he’d make a batch of chicken soup that had some killer bone broth in it. Not as tasty as her husband’s, but good. And she’d bring in some special tea mixes.

What was it with my staff falling for my wife? Jesus.

She’s back at work now, and I hate myself for wanting to see her, to touch her. Fuck her.

“Get a fucking grip.”

I take the coffee I just made to my home office, sipping it as I go. Tomorrow’s busy, and I want a jump start on the day and the week to come.

Throwing myself deeper into work to heal things or maybe hide from them has become my motto. I know from experience hiding is almost the same as healing and a fuck ton less painful.

My laptop beeps with an alert after about half an hour of straight work. Anything marked urgent has been set to do that on my work account, so I go to that tab.

I scan the email, and my heart sinks.

Another fucking crackpot after the family money or has a story, or wants an interview… I don’t know and I don’t care. That shit’s mostly stopped, but Grandfather’s passing is bound to bring the nuts out.

Some fucking dude wants to meet me. “Good fucking luck with that, dickwad.”

And he says it’s important, which is pretty much MO for anyone who wants something from me.

Best, he says it’s about my murderous, piece of shit father.

Whatever it is, I want nothing to do with it, and I do what I usually do, I hit delete.

I go to have another sip of my coffee, but it’s gone. I don’t even remember finishing it.

“Fuck.”

I snatch up the cup and go downstairs to make some more. And as I’m waiting, I cross to the great room to straighten a cushion when I spot Aria’s phone on the coffee table.

I don’t bother trying to get into it, why would I? It’s her phone, and besides, it’ll be locked.

I’m about to take it with me and the coffee when it lights up.

And I go completely still.

Asher flashes along with a message.

The paranoia rushes in, along with that sharp, clawed jealousy.

It’s one word. Hey.

It’s so fucking weird and bland I’m instantly suspicious, and I’m sure something’s going on with them.

She’s never around, and why the fuck is he texting her the word hey? Like they’re close. Like they don’t need actual sentences.

I suck in a breath that hurts my throat as it closes over.

Something’s going on.

I can’t get it out of my head.

Asher’s also been fucking weird with me the last few times I’ve tried to catch up. First, it was work, then Asher, the single dad of the year, suddenly had other plans. Or was just busy.

And now he’s texting my wife the word hey.

Why are they both being secretive and not telling me a thing?

In my head, a little voice whispers because you’re acting like this, numbskull .

I know that, but it doesn’t make a difference.

Instead, I hit the screen with my thumb and almost drop her phone as it comes to life. She doesn’t have it locked or Face ID protected? What the hell? That’s dangerous. Any asshole, like me for instance, could get into it.

But I’m suddenly a madman. I go to her texts and scroll through the ones with Asher.

The ‘hey’ is perfectly normal. Apparently, Josh told Asher a joke and asked him to tell it to Aria.

Asher: Josh has a joke for you. What do cool horses eat.

This morning, she responded. I don’t know!

Asher: Hey.

So she must have left her phone behind. It’s innocent, but I keep scrolling like it’s crack and I’m the addict.

All they do is talk about me. Asher slides some questions in about Katie, but it’s mostly me.

Asher tells her not to give up on me. He says I’m a good guy who just finds it hard to trust, and I have walls. He goes on but it infuriates me.

I don’t need anyone, least of all Asher, to talk me up. I don’t want it. I know what I am and how I am. I know I’m no catch, not really, but it’s none of Asher’s fucking business.

I’m so incensed that I shove her phone in my pocket, call one of the Templeton cars, and I’m soon on my way to Brooklyn.

Fuck Asher. Fuck Aria. Fuck them both discussing me like I’m an object they found that, if they polish it, I’ll be worth something.

Fuck all that to hell and back.

Asher gapes at me as we stand in his kitchen, trying to get my breathing under control.

“Dude,” he says, “are you insane as well as being fucking stupid?”

I very well might be. The words what the actual fuck are you doing here? pass through me for not the first time. “No?—”

“Because I’ll tell you something for free, and because I actually do love you like a brother, you’re family, Noah.

If you keep this fucking stupid bullshit up, you’ll lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

And she is. You know it. That’s why you’re being a walking candidate for the psyche ward. ”

“Fuck you.” I glare at him. “Maybe if you didn’t keep shoving in where you don’t belong, things would be better.”

Asher starts laughing, goes to his fridge, and pulls out a cold brew, and for once, he doesn’t offer me any of that elixir he makes. It’s strong, rich, and hits just right, and I could go for that now. But he just opens the lid and sips the coffee inside.

“Better?” He shakes his head. “How? You run away leaving her confused. She asks me about you, and it’s getting hard defending you.”

“I’m not asking for you to defend me.”

“At this stage, you need the friend equivalent of a crack legal team to defend you.” He sets the cold brew down on the counter in his kitchen and leans back against it. “You’re fucking her, which seems to mean, without an agreement on what it means, that you’re into her.”

“Look—”

“Which I happen to know is true.”

“It isn’t, I’m just…” I try to find the right words, but it’s hard when Asher’s looking at me like I’m some kind of goddamn liar.

“You’re what? Not into her? Not caught a fucking giant case of the feels?

” He crosses his arms. “Because, dude, I’ll tell you something for free.

If you didn’t like her, or just wanted to bone her, and that’s it, the Noah I know would be cucumber cool, have a written contract where everything was written out in triplicate, and she knew exactly where she stood. ”

“That’s not my point,” I say, but he shakes his head.

“You don’t have one, man.” He takes a breath. “If you didn’t like her, there’d be a prenup, there’d be rules. I think a part of you wanted to see.”

“See what?” I ask sarcastically.

Asher drops his arms, and straightens. “See where this went.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“But you didn’t expect the pretty blonde you got the hots for to be so…

well, Aria. So you imploded. She makes you vulnerable, and you can’t stand that.

So what do you do? You leave her alone, do your own thing, don’t show up to dinner, and generally act like your marriage is what it said on the tin when you coerced her into it; one of convenience.

” He rubs his chin. “And when you feel like it, you fuck her.”

Me, I wish to fuck he had some booze lying around because I’m tempted to drink it. “That’s not how it is.”

“Isn’t it? I get the feeling it is, and a whole lot more.”

“She shouldn’t be telling you about us or asking for help.”

Asher slams his fist on the counter. “She’s not doing either one. But I know you.”

“I don’t need your help.” I’ve lost this battle, we both know it. So I glare and add, “And tell Joshy his joke’s great, but I’d have said, ‘hey, man.’”

“He’s four.”

“I know.” And I storm out. Stinging, my face burning.

Never in a million years would I offer to fix a joke a four-year-old heard or made up, not to his loveable little face, but I’m pissed, and I want to lash out, and Joshy isn’t here.

I get in the car and slam the door. “SoHo,” I say to the driver.

“Home or?—”

“Home.” I sit back, digging her phone out again.

Thing is, I know there was nothing but truth and love in Asher’s words. He’s always had my back, and me his. We’ve been each other’s rocks. Maybe I don’t like the rift between us for reasons I don’t get.

My accusations wouldn’t scare him off, and I’ve apologized. The man knows when I mean something and when I don’t and Asher’s my family, too.

But I’m angry, too. Maybe because he has an ease I don’t have with Aria.

“That’s also your own fault, dumbass.”

Yeah, but… when I let the primal heat out, the passion and desire that compel me to circle in her orbit, there’s no uphill battle. The attraction between us decimates all in its path and has since moment one, when we first met.

Worlds and years aren’t built just on those sexual explosions, but they’re important, and I’m not sure why. The words barriers, walls, and hurdles come into my head, but I’m not ready to face them.

I know I have to complete the path to her, perhaps take a risk, but she could be like everyone else.

Asher might hold truths in his words, but what? Does he actually think this passion is love? Love is something else, and I don’t fucking do it. And the one thing I definitely know is I’m not in love with any?—

Her phone beeps.

Katie: I knoooow you’re at work, but don’t they have breaks? How are you feeling? Have you made a decision? Have you processed the news yet? ARI!!!

I frown. Why does everyone not filter their words with each other? But that’s not the important bit, besides they’re old friends.

What’s Katie on about? Processed what?

I shouldn’t. Warning bells clang.

But I don’t put down the phone or turn it off. The car keeps going over the bridge now, to Manhattan. I click on Katie’s messages, and scroll.

“Oh holy fuck.”

Aria’s pregnant?