Chapter 8: Hard–on

Noah POV

“Yo, Noah, you good? You’ve been quiet as fuck all night.”

Jax’s voice cuts through the smoke curling from my cigarette. I’m leaning against the brick wall behind the club, one boot pressed flat to the wall, lighter flicking open and shut in my hand even though the cigarette’s already lit.

After dragging Riley home,I couldn't stay there anymore knowing that she was just few doors away and I could follow her even if it was wrong of me to do so. So I decided to call jax and hit the club.

I take a long drag, let the burn sit in my lungs for a moment before I answer. “I’m fine.”

Jax snorts. “Yeah, sure. Your fine looks like you’re ready to murder someone with that stare.”

Across the alley, Marco and Diesel are counting cash under the weak streetlight, rubber bands snapping loud in the quietness. It was normal night with the same fucking routine; Pick up the money from the college dealers, split it, smoke then go home. Easy.

But tonight my head’s not here. My head is still upstairs in that house, in her room, replaying the way she looked at me when I almost kissed her. The way her lips parted and the way she didn’t move away.

I shift my weight, adjust my jeans because fuck, just thinking about her makes me hard again. It has been like this for days. One thought of Riley and my body forgets every rule I’ve ever made.

Jax follows my stare even though I’m not looking at anything. Then he grins, slow and dirty.

“Wait. Is that for the chick inside? The one with the red skirt sitting three tables from us earlier? That is why you’re standing here like a pissed-off statue with a hard-on?”

I blow smoke out through my nose. “No.”

He laughs. “Liar. She was hot, man. Legs for days. I would hit that in a heartbeat. You need to get laid, bro. You’re wounded way too tight.”

I flick ash onto the ground. “Im not interested.”

Jax raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you say no to easy pussy? Are you sick or some shit?”

I don’t bother answering him. I take another drag and stare at the glowing tip of the cigarette. Because the truth is ugly.

I don’t want the girl in the red skirt, in fact I don’t want anyone.

I want Riley.

I want her in every fucked-up way a guy can want someone he’s not allowed to have. I want her mouth on mine, her mouth on my dick. I want her nails digging in my back. I want to ruin her for every other guy who ever thinks he can touch what’s mine.

And she is mine ,she just doesn’t know it yet.

Jax is still talking. “Come on, man. One night. Get it out of your system. You’re acting like a monk and it’s weird.”

I crush the cigarette under my boot. “I said no.”

He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright. Keep your blue balls, psycho.”

Marco calls over. “We good? I wanna get outta here.”

I push off the wall. “Yeah. We’re done.”

We split the cash among us, stuff it in the inside pockets, everyone was quiet now. They know when I shut down, I shut down.

I climb into the driver’s seat of my Jeep, slam the door, and just sit there for a minute. The engine is still off, the street is also quiet but my mind isn't.

Riley is probably asleep right now. Curled up in that big T-shirt she wears, bare legs and messy hair on the pillow, probably dreaming about her lover boy.

I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles go white. One day I’m gonna loose all control and when I do, there won’t be any stepbrother rules left to save her.