RUSH (City Lights, #3)(70)

“Regina, please don’t make a big deal…”

Too late. We’d arrived at her loft door which Regina threw open with a bang. “Charlotte’s here!”

A chorus of loud shouts, whistles, and applause went up, and I was genuinely touched.

“I didn’t know it’d be like this…” I said, clutching Noah’s arm.

Regina leaned in my ear. “Welcome back.” She kissed my cheek, then ran off to attend her guests while I led Noah inside.

Friends from Juilliard, most I hadn’t seen in more than a year, surrounded us. I linked my arm through Noah’s to anchor him to me as I was engulfed in a round of hugs. I introduced Noah more times than I could count, and was proud when everyone of my friends greeted him as if he were anyone else—but for a few lingering stares from some of the women.

Regina’s loft was one large rectangle, maybe eight hundred square feet of industrial space, filled with potted plants, metal ductwork and exposed brick. She’d strung up strings of white Christmas lights, and one area by the slanting windows was set up as a small stage. I swallowed the nerves, and led Noah to the sitting area where Melanie, her girlfriend Sasha, and Anthony were gathered.

Melanie embraced me close. “I’ve got a secret.”

I glanced at her askance. “Do you?”

“Later,” she said with a small excited smile. She turned to Noah. “And you must be Mr. Lake.”

“Must be,” Noah said with a flicker of a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Melanie said, giving me a meaningful look, which I pointedly ignored.

“And you remember Anthony Washington,” I said as Anthony stood up to greet us.

Noah offered his hand. “How’s it going, man?”

I watched with a strange, silly pride as Anthony and Noah did one of those manly handshakes that ended with a half-hug and pat on the back.

I sat with Noah on the couch and heard him sigh with relief as he sank down and folded his white stick to tuck beside him.

“I’m going for a drink,” Anthony said. “You guys want something? Noah, beer?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Char?”

“I thought I saw a bowl of sangria when we came in.”

“You got it.” Anthony turned to Melanie and Sasha. “Ladies?”

“You can only carry so much,” Sasha said, and rose to go with him. She had short, bleached hair and two sleeves of tattoos up her slender arms. She bent to kiss Melanie’s cheek. “Be cool,” she told her girlfriend, shooting me a fast smile.

I narrowed my eyes at Melanie. “Yeah, what’s up with you? You look ready to burst.”

She waved a hand. “Later. So. Noah, tell me about yourself. New York native or what?”

“Yeah, native, though I only moved back recently.”

“Charlotte tells me you worked for Planet X.”

I tensed, glancing at Noah, but he nodded. “Yeah, I did. For about five years. Maybe again. We’ll see.”

Melanie asked Noah about some of his travels as Anthony and Sasha returned. A guy standing behind us overheard Noah talk about Nepal and Mt. Everest, and joined in.

He introduced himself as Zach and said he’d been to Kathmandu a year ago. He practically coughed beer out his nose to hear Noah had worked at Planet X.

“Dude! That rag is the bomb!” Zach turned to tell some of his friends. The next thing I knew, we were surrounded, and Noah was peppered with questions about some of the places he’d been and the extreme sports he’d participated in.

I studied Noah carefully for any signs that it was all too painful for him, but he seemed to be doing okay. I wondered if it was the idea of working for PX again that bolstered him; the idea that the life he described to Zach and his buddies wasn’t quite over.

It also occurred to me that these guys didn’t notice Noah was blind. He was still wearing his sunglasses but that could have been read as an affectation. The guys were standing behind him or sitting on the arms of the couch; I don’t think they picked up on the fact Noah only cocked his head in the direction of whomever was speaking to him.

My suspicions were confirmed when Zach said, “Hey, Noah. Did you know the guy who worked at Planet X? The cliff-diver who wound up in a coma?”

“Yeah, I know him,” Noah said with a dry smile. “That was me.”

Now Zach really did choke on his beer. “That was…? Holy shit! But you look good, man. Not a scratch on you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

I saw one of Zach’s friends make a negating motion. He tapped the corner of his eye and pointed at Noah’s white stick folded beside him.

“Ohhhh, shit…” Zach said. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’ve already had one too many of these things. Beer, I mean,” he added quickly. “Let me get you one. Or something stronger? What’s your poison?”

“I don’t drink,” Noah said.

“Oh.” Zach frowned. “Is that because…you know?”

“Nah, man. I’m the designated driver.”

A silence fell among those gathered around us and Zach blinked. Then everyone burst out laughing, dispelling the tension that had started to thicken in the air.

Anthony clapped Noah on the shoulder—but not too hard. “I’ll bet you get a lot of mileage out of that joke,” he said and everyone groaned.