Page 99 of Keeping Guard
“No shit, man? An honest to God princess?”
“What?”
“You said she’s a princess.”
He’d said that out loud?
“You’re playing with your dice, Double D. You only do that when you’re stressed. Talk to me. Get whatever has you sulking like a kid who lost his favorite toy off your chest. You’ll feel better for it. I guarantee.”
Noah stared down at the dice in his palm. He hadn’t realized he’d taken them out of his pocket. How many times in his life had this pair of dice led him down the right path simply because he’d held them and asked, “What would my father do?” Then, whatever the answer was, he’d do the opposite. He silently asked that question now, and the answer...his father wouldn’t think twice about stomping all over a princess’s heart.
Had his father ever loved Noah’s mother? Did he even know how to love? Noah didn’t know the answer to that question. As far back as he could remember, the old man had only cared about gambling and his booze.
Then he thought of his mother. Although he was young when he lost her, he remembered her smiles, her hugs, and how much she loved him. He knew that because it was the last thing she said to him every night. “I love you, my sweet boy,” she’d say, then she’d pull the covers up to his chin and kiss his forehead. She had taught him everything he needed to know about love.
Was he really going to walk away from the woman he loved, throw away his chance to be happy?
“Dude, either talk to me or get dressed so we can go out.”
“Can’t.” With his fingers wrapped tight around the dice, he stood. “I got some things to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Peyton leaned her cheek against the window as she watched Asheville wake up on an early Saturday morning. Before Noah, she’d rarely been up early enough to see the sun come up, to watch her town come alive. Now, she wasn’t sleeping well, so this greeting the sunrise was a new thing. She wasn’t even sleeping in her bed anymore, which was just stupid, but it was lonely there without him. The sofa was her new place to crash. She’d doze off watching TV, sleep for a few hours, and then wake up with a body full of kinks.
She stretched her neck to the left and then to the right. Three weeks—three long, miserable weeks—had passed since he had left, and she hadn’t heard a word from him. Not even a text message that he was alive and well. A thousand times in the past weeks, she’d typed out text messages to him and then had deleted them.
Hey. Just checking in to make sure you got home safely.
Do you miss me, because I miss you like crazy.
This one I’ll definitely delete, but I want you to know that I love you.
You’re a rotten dog, Noah Alba. You broke my heart, and you don’t even care enough to check in on me.
I wish I’d never met you.
Okay, that last one was a lie.
And on and on and on. Well, as of today, that was stopping. She was done crying over unsent messages and messages never received. The only things keeping her going were her father and their new amazingly wonderful relationship, her job, and Nichole and Jack. She talked to Nichole a few times a week, and the couple had had her over for dinner several times. Lucky was always there, and it was great to get to see her furry friend.
Noah was never mentioned, not by her or them. That was another heartbreak, that he’d becomepersona non grata. She wanted to talk about him...no, she didn’t. If only she could stop thinking about him.
The past two weekends she’d spent on her sofa, numbing her brain with mindless TV. That was going to stop, too. But what to do with herself? The brewery was her happy place, so she could spend the day there, play around with her recipe.
There wouldn’t be a Wicked Witch Brewery now, but she liked the name, so she was working on a new beer she planned to call Wicked Witch’s Broomstick Mocha Stout. When she lost herself in creating a new beer, she didn’t think of anything else, and that was exactly what she needed today...no Noah thoughts, no tears, no temptation to call Nichole and ask if Jack had heard from him. It would kill her to know Noah was keeping in touch with Jack when he’d ghosted her, a clear message that she didn’t mean beans to him.
Yep, got the message loud and clear, SEAL boy.
She wanted to hate him but couldn’t make herself do that. He hadn’t made promises he hadn’t kept, he’d never lied to her or given her reason to hope he’d stay. He’d done everything she’d asked of him...the tingles being her favorite, and could the man ever make her tingle.
He might have ruined her for any other man. Or, he might have taught her what she should expect and deserved from some future man. It was impossible to imagine loving anyone other than Noah, but with time and determination to find him, maybe someday a man could walk into her life the way Noah had and win her heart.
He’d have to work damn hard at it as he’d have big shoes to step into, but it could happen, right? Because, seriously, she didn’t want to end up being a crazy cat lady, lamenting to the end of her days of her one and only lost love. That would just suck lemons.
Had anyone ever created a lemon beer brew? Okay, now she was just getting silly. She pressed her forehead against the window. For her own sanity, she had to let him go.
“Goodbye, Noah. Have a great life.”
