Chapter Ten

Noah gazed intently at the mess before him. Cake batter was splattered on the ceiling, table, floor, and cabinets; about a thousand pots and pans were circling the counter.

"Are you sure you want to go through with the baking?" he asked as he took in his surroundings.

The petite blonde peered up at him and ran a chocolate-drenched hand through her hair.

"Baking relaxes me," she replied, returning to her mixing. She bit her lip as she swirled the spoon around in the tin bowl.

Relaxing? This made her relaxed? The kitchen was an absolute disaster, and Noah thought that it looked as if a tornado had traveled through it.

How was she relaxed?

Noah picked up a washcloth and began cleaning a red mug—her makeshift measuring cup— that he found beside him.

"So, how's your photography assistant job. Shannon says that keeps you really busy."

Violet paused, her back tensing up.

Noah gulped. Had he said something wrong? He filtered through what he had just said and did not find his wording to be offensive in any way.

She smiled sheepishly, grabbing another spoon from the top drawer. Noah noticed the newly broken pieces of the wooden spoon beside her.

"My fake job always prevents me from going to all those important family events. You know—the galas, fashion shows, and brunches. So important."

Noah bit his lip. Should he press on? The girl had carried on with her horrible baking experiment and chose to move past the topic. However, being a nosy bastard, Noah coughed into his left arm, signaling her attention.

"Why do you fake having a job?"

She shook her head, this time refusing to make eye contact with him. "Do you think my parents would accept me if I were unemployed?"

Noah's brows furrowed. Her parents weren't even proud of her fake job. Charlie went on and on about how she spend thousands of dollars to send Violet to school, and Violet became a photographer's assistant. Charlie argued that if her daughter sought after a useless photography career, then it would have been best for her to become the creme dela creme of photographers!

"Your parents love you, Violet," Noah calmly stated. "Why do you think they push you so hard?"

Crash.

Noah blanched as he realized that the bowl went soaring across the room and hit the wall a few feet away from him. What the hell? At first, he thought Violet might've been joking as it was her nature to make a sarcastic or witty remark.

However, he soon realized that sobs were rolling out of the blonde.

"They want another Shannon," she wept, rubbing away the cascading tears with the backs of her hands. The tears and chocolate batter mixed on her face.

Noah left his chair and started walking two steps closer. She halted him, placing her hands up as she tried controlling her breathing.

"No, they don't," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes in response. 

"They're always like 'Shannon did this,' 'Shannon won seventy-thousand awards,' and 'Oh! Shannon made millions this year.' What can they say about me? 'Violet is currently unemployed, homeless, and only associates with three guys who are all crazy about Shannon'! Sometimes I wish I was never born. When Charlie said I was a mistake, boy was she right."

The muscular man halted. Who were the two other guys crazy about Shannon? Shaking his head of those thoughts, he stared at the weak girl in front of him. Covered in batter, tears, and soiled clothes, she crumpled towards the ground. She barely could look at any place other than her feet.

"You're not a mistake, Violet."

And he meant that. Violet had that 'it' factor that drew people near her. She was witty, sarcastic, and inwardly and outwardly beautiful. She took the hard way in life and loved challenges and could see the beauty in her surroundings—a photographer's gift.

She had to be someone special for him to cheat on Shannon with her.

While Noah may not have remembered what exactly happened on the night he had with Violet those months ago, he remembered bits and pieces. Specifically, he now remembered how he met her.

Noah stumbled slightly through the crowd. He was drunk, but this was nothing for him. He'd been shit-faced drunk in college, and he wanted to get more drunk. It was a tough week at the office, and he wanted to drown himself in a couple of drinks.

He looked around for seat.

She had been wearing a tube dress; her hair was high in a ponytail. Her cheeks glowed as she was drawing something on a wrinkly napkin. There were two seats on either side of her, but for some reason, Noah wanted to sit next to her.

He needed to sit next to her. He needed to know her story.

"Noah Anderson."

She looked up and squinted. "I don't tell my name to strangers, no matter how attractive they are."

Noah smiled. She was drunk, too. Or maybe, she was just naturally that brazen.

"What are you drawing?"

Violet took a huge chug of her drink, finishing it to the last drop. "Yo, Tom! Another martini. Keep them coming because it seems like I'll have an unwanted pest here."

Drunk and naturally brazen, Noah thought.

"Tom, put it on my tab. Noah Anderson."

Violet rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, almost tipping over in the process. She definitely was wasted.

"I can't be bought. Do you think I'm a prostitute?"

A prostitute? She definitely was pretty enough. And her eyes...

The petite blonde blushed, and Noah immediately realized that his thoughts had been vocalized.

Keep it cool, Noah. What's wrong with you?

"Sorry," he stated sheepishly.

She threw her head back slightly as she laughed. "S'fine. If you want a prostitute, however, I'm pretty sure there's one outback."

Noah chuckled. "You never answered my question. What are you drawing?"

She giggled—God, he loved that sound—as she slid over her napkin. Noah squinted. It was an intricate drawing of herself; her hands were chained together. She was surrounded by seaweed and was underwater. The drawing was mostly composed of scribbles and shading here and there.

It was beautiful.

"Kinda morbid, huh?" he handed her work back to her.

The blonde shook her head. "Kinda morbid what we're doing here, huh? Everyone here is drinking themselves to death—drowning themselves in liquor—to escape life."

Noah blanched. "Drinking is—"

"—Fun. That's what you're trying to me. But, it's not. Sure, drinking one or two glasses is. But, when you start coming to bars and clubs alone every night to get shit-faced, you're trying to get away from something. I know I am, and I know I'm the only one honest enough to admit it."

He could feel the vein in his neck pulsing. "You're being a buzzkill. Most people aren't alcoholics; they just want to be buzzed enough to become outgoing and lively."

She took another chug of her glass and stared him straight in the eyes. Her blue eyes made his heart leap out of his chest.

"And people who want to kill themselves aren't depressed—they're just a little sad."

Noah couldn't believe this girl. She could be sarcastic and witty and then totally become morbid and philosophical like Buddha! Who peed in her cereal this morning?

"And what are you running from, exactly?" Noah shot back, his ego bruised a little.

The tables are turned back on you, Noah told her in his mind.

The blonde dropped her drawing and gestured for Tom to come over with another drink. "For you," she chimed. "We're going to be here for awhile. I don't tell strangers anything about me. But, I'll tell friends a lot of stuff. Tell me about you, and I'll tell you about me."

The man in the black shirt grinned. This girl was too much. He was about to speak until he felt his phone buzz.

"Babe, I'm sleeping at the office tonight. Major deadline tomorrow. Hope you're keeping yourself busy - Shay," the text read—or Noah thought the text read through his haze of intoxication.

Should he reply? Should he go home? What was with this girl?

"Well? Is this going to end up being my drink?" she prompted.

"I played basketball in high school," he began...

Noah shuddered. Months ago he had met cocky and witty Violet...now he had broken Violet. The real Violet behind that facade. Yeah, Violet had revealed things about herself that night, but she never let anyone see her raw and uncensored self.

Here she was.

"Noah, I'm so sorry," she bawled. "I drew you into my messy life. If I could go back in time and prevent what happened, I would. God, if I could remember what happened!"

Noah just stood, with his jaw on the floor. He was speechless.

"Why is Shannon so much better than me that I get treated like trash and receive nothing good in life?"

That was it.

Noah immediately pulled the weeping girl into his arms, his arms covered in a solution of tears and batter. But, he didn't care. All he cared about was little Violet Weaver, who had kept all these feelings bottled up inside of her.

Little Violet Weaver who knew other people better than herself.

"Oh, God," she mumbled into his shirt in between crying.

Noah hushed her, rubbing circles on her back. He wished that he had the courage to tell her about how she entranced him that night. How she amazed him that night.

But he couldn't.

"I don't blame you," he murmured. "You don't need to apologize."

She peeked up at him, batting her eyelashes to clear her eyes from the teary haze.

Noah gulped, his body stiffening.

Her eyes.

——————-

"Aaron, what are you doing here?" Shannon hissed while her parents went into the other room to check on the desert menu.

Aaron's face twisted. "Your mom invited me to dinner because she thought you would be lonely with Noah. No need to get bitchy with me."

Bitchy!

"I am not being bitchy," Shannon barked back, tossing her napkin onto the table.

Okay, maybe I am, but I have a good reason to be! Noah, freaking Noah Anderson, just bitched out on me.

Aaron pulled on his tie, loosening it. "Look, I thought I was doing something nice for you since we're friends. I didn't know that we were just work buddies, you know."

Shannon sighed and ran a finger through her hair. He was right. She loved Aaron, and he wasn't just her assistant. They had basically grown up together in that company, and he came the closest that she had to a brother.

"I'm sorry. I've had a horrible night," she huffed, fiddling with her engagement ring.

Aaron's nostrils flared slightly. "Noah again?"

She nodded, picking up her second glass of wine. She loved Noah. She really did. However, he was ruining all the plans they had together.

She hastily checked her phone. No text. Where was he? How inconsiderate of him to send a vague text and then not reply to her seven other messages!

"I don't get why you're with him."

Shannon paused as she immediately sensed the venom in his voice. Aaron was always protective of her, that was for sure. However, she was annoyed that Aaron was intruding himself in her love life.

"Aar, I'm not in the mood." Her lips thinned in a flat line.

Aaron pushed back his chair, and he jumped up. Shannon whipped backwards in shock.

"I don't understand why you let him treat you like crap. He obviously doesn't want to be in the relationship anymore. Where was he a couple of nights ago, when you needed him to accompany you to a work event?"

Shannon squirmed in her seat. When would her parents save her from this misery? She usually absolutely adored spending time with Aaron, but right now...

"Noah isn't into that stuff. That's just him."

Aaron scoffed. "So, it's okay for him to skimp out on you on one of the most important nights in the fashion world?"

Shannon bit her lip.

"And where is he tonight?"

Her eyes closed and reopened. "With a friend."

He sneered. "With a friend? Is that friend a girl he found in an alley somewhere?"

Shannon leaped out of her chair and stood in front of him. She had enough of his blatant disrespect for her and her fiancé in her parents' house.

"I don't like," she snarled, "what you're insinuating. I think it's time for you to leave. I'll see you at work."

Aaron refused to let go. "There you go again. I bet you asked him if something was wrong, and he said no, so you let it drop. You always run away when things aren't perfect."

"I do not!"

Aaron pulled his suit jacket from his chair and began turning away from the cowering blonde.

"I'm leaving," he weakly replied, as if the wind was knocked out of him.

Leaving what? This house? Well, she had asked him to leave. Her life? His job?

"What do you mean?" she annunciated slowly.

"You know what I mean."

"Enlighten me."

He sighed. "I just can't sit here and be second best to all the people in your life."

Shannon felt the tears fall, and she fought them back. "Aaron, we've been friends for years."

He shot her a lop-sided grin. "That's the problem."

"You know that I love Noah, Aaron. I've never led you on to think otherwise."

The grin faded. "I know."

And that was it.

Aaron sent her one last small smile before walking towards the door. A maid ran after him, but he motioned her to leave him alone. Shannon could barely breathe. How could two of the most important people in her life crush her world in one night?

How could Aaron feel that way?

Could she feel that way too?

In a split instant, Shannon sifted through her memories with Aaron. Yeah, he was attractive. He was smart. He was witty. He could make a whole room laugh in an instant and could make a room cry in the same amount of time. He liked watching the ends of movies first because he hated surprises, and he thought eating ice cream out of the box made it taste better.

She had thought he was gay when they first became friends, but she soon realized that he wasn't, when he talked to her about all his conquests. All those brain-dead supermodels who—

Shannon's heart raced. Who was she kidding? She may be in love with Noah, but she also had feelings for Aaron. She didn't know whether those feelings indicated her lust for him, her crush on him, or her romantic love for him.

How would she know?

Could she take a risk?

Shannon fought back her urge to be perfect. Her mind told her that she should stay put, to continue her perfect little life in her perfect little world with her upcoming perfect little engagement

Well, imperfect engagement now.

She shook her head. Aaron would come back. He made rash decisions like these all the time. Right?

Right?

"Aaron!" she called out, taking off her shoes simultaneously so that she could run faster through the long hallway. "Aaron, stop!"

The brunette spun around, right before he exited the atrium. He had one foot in the door and one foot out. He placed both back inside.

"What?" he asked, attempting to hide his pain with venom.

"Please don't laugh at me."

A puzzled look formed on his face. "Why would I laugh? I don't—"

And there, ladies and gentlemen, was the moment when Shannon Weaver went in for the kiss, melting into Aaron's body.

Her first risk in a long time.