Unhinged(Necessary Evils #1)(33)

“We should go sometime,” Noah offered. “Like pour one out for my dad.”

Gary sat forward, steepling his hands on his desk. “I don’t have that cabin anymore. Sold it a long time ago to buy this place.”

He’s lying. Noah had no proof, just gut instinct, but something told him Gary was full of shit, that he definitely still owned that cabin in the woods. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I take my thirty now?” Noah asked, suddenly eager to get out of there and away from Gary’s bullshit.

“Yeah, kid. Go ahead.”

Noah made a beeline for the picnic table out back. Roxy—who was actually a forty-five year old single mom named Jeanette—sat smoking a cigarette beside Bailey, who laid out on the wooden bench. “You two shouldn’t be out here alone. Especially on a night with a featured dancer. It always brings out the real nut jobs.”

“What did Gary want?” Bailey asked.

“He’s still on his bullshit about his missing backpack. Apparently, Bianca is running her mouth again.” Noah sprawled across the top of the table, slipping his phone free and doing a double take. “What the fuck?” he muttered.

Bailey sat up at his confusion, snagging his phone, eyes immediately finding the source of Noah’s confusion before blowing wide. “Does your Instagram say you have ten thousand notifications? How often do you check this thing?”

Not that often. He’d only opened the account four months ago after Bailey whined about it for an hour. She’d wanted to tag him in a photo she’d taken. He had all of four pictures. Bailey didn’t ask permission before she opened the app. “Who’s Adam Mulvaney?”

“The model?” Jeanette asked.

Noah frowned. “You know him?”

Jeanette blew out a smoke ring, then waved it away. “I know of him. One of my gentleman friends is on some kind of foundation board with his father. People love to talk about the Mulvaney boys. All talented. All beautiful. All A names. Are you and him a thing?”

“According to Instagram, they are. You have, like, almost nine thousand new followers in a day.”

“It's no big deal,” Noah mumbled, trying to reach for his phone.

Bailey ducked him easily, holding it out of the way. “Oh, my God. This says you’re Adam Mulvaney’s boyfriend. That you were spotted having lunch together at Moe’s. Is that true?”

Noah’s eyes went wide. “Where does it say that?”

“Uh, TMZ, Business Insider, lots of places.”

Business Insider? Why? “How do people even know me? Adam literally only told them my first name.”

Bailey scoffed. “That’s all it takes. Between internet sleuths and Facebook’s auto-tagging, it's not that hard to find somebody on social media,” Bailey said before handing his phone back to him. “I can’t believe you’re dating Adam Mulvaney. Do you know how many of us work in this shithole hoping we’d all get that million dollar meal ticket?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Shut up. You love Leah. You wouldn’t leave her for a sugar daddy.”

Bailey sniffed. “Maybe not, but I might for an engagement ring and a billion dollars.

“Well, we’ve known each other less than seventy-two hours”—If Noah didn’t count their mutual stalking—“so I wouldn’t worry about buying us a wedding present just yet. Given my history, I think we all know I’ll fuck this up before the week is out.”

“I don’t know. That pic of you two in the diner looked pretty intense. He looks at you like he wants to eat you.”

Adam definitely appeared to like the taste of Noah—told him so each time he swallowed him down—but he didn’t need to feed Bailey’s imagination anymore.

The notifications from his social media accounts were so overwhelming it took him a long time to realize he had a text from Adam.

It simply read: I miss your face.

Noah smiled like an idiot before typing out a message. I get off in three hours.

Adam was typing a response almost immediately. With any luck, we’ll both get off tonight. Send me a picture.

Noah glanced down at his dirty clothes. His hair was greasy from sweat. His face was probably shiny. I’m not camera ready.

Adam: You’re always hot.





Noah rolled his eyes but once more smiled, then snapped a pic of himself lying on the table under the yellow street light illuminating him from overhead, sending it before he could change his mind.

Adam’s reply was almost instant. A pic of him slouched down in the driver’s seat of a vehicle. I can’t stop thinking about all the things I want to do to you.

Noah’s face grew warm. Don’t you dare start dirty talking to me when I’m on a break that ends in like ten minutes.

Adam: Buzzkill.





Noah tried and failed to hide his grin. He had never understood those people who met a guy and became instantly consumed by them. Men, to Noah, were a means to an end. Get off and get out. The years of abuse he’d suffered, no matter how much he suppressed it, still affected the way he responded to men and not in a good way. He was one big trauma response wrapped in a blanket of kinks and insecurities. He almost always chose men who were likely to treat him like garbage because it was easier to walk away as soon as he got what he needed from them.