I couldn’t breathe.
My mouth had gone dry, my palms slick, and my chest tight with something between awe and panic.Noah was so hot, so impossibly sexy, and I—God help me—I couldn’t look away.
What the hell was I doing here?
I’d spent my whole life dreaming of service, of devotion, of an altar and a chalice and a quiet life in the fold of God’s will.And here I was, planted in a gay bar called Babylon, staring at a man I barely knew while he danced nearly naked, my body burning with desire I couldn’t even begin to control.
My throat constricted.My vision swam.
Before I could think twice, I grabbed my wine glass and downed it in one desperate swallow.The sweetness turned bitter in my mouth, but I didn’t care.I needed something, anything, to drown the ache, to steady my shaking hands.
It didn’t work.
The room pressed too close, the lights too bright, the music too loud.I pushed through the crowd, murmuring apologies that nobody heard, my heart battering against my ribs as though it wanted out.
The door.I just needed the door.Air.Space.Silence.
And then it happened—like the universe wanted to punish me one more time.
My eyes locked with his.
Noah froze mid-step, his body stilling as if the music had cut out.His gaze pinned me, sharp and unflinching, and in that single moment the world collapsed to just the two of us: me, raw and unraveling; him, caught in the spotlight, suddenly unmasked.
Panic shot through me like lightning.
I tore my eyes away and bolted, shoving past bodies, stumbling for the exit.The cool evening air slapped my face as I burst through the door and onto the sidewalk, lungs heaving, heart still hammering.
Run.Just run.
I sprinted down the block, my shoes striking the pavement, the city spinning in my periphery.My mind screamed—shame, lust, disbelief all tangled into a knot I couldn’t untie.
And then—
“Henry!”
I skidded, the sound of my name cleaving through the chaos.
I turned.
There he was.Noah, standing on the sidewalk in that damn white thong, his chest still slick with sweat, calling out to me under the glow of the neon Babylon sign.
For half a second, something inside me reached for him—wanted to stop, to turn back, to let myself be seen.
But shame was faster.
I spun and ran, faster this time, leaving him behind in the neon glow.
ChapterSix
Noah
Song of Songs 1:7 — Why should I be like one who veils herself beside the flocks of your companions?
* * *
Sleep wouldn’t come.
I flipped onto my back, then onto my side, then onto my stomach.My sheets were twisted around my legs like I’d been fighting demons in my dreams—except I hadn’t even made it to dreaming yet.I couldn’t.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Henry.Not the Henry who sat next to me at school with polite questions and that cautious, thoughtful smile.Not the bookish Henry with a stack of notes tucked under his arm.
