She moved his boxers down an inch, and he placed his hands over hers.
“Stop,” he said, pulling out of her hold. He walked to the opposite side of the room and ran his fingers through his hair.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean? You’re Isaac Welch. Of course you can do this.”
The fact she knew his name didn’t surprise him. Most women knew who he was before they checked him out.
He picked her dress off the floor. “I can’t do this. I’ve got a girl waiting for me back home.”
“She must be special if you don’t want to get down and dirty with me,” she said.
“I’m not going to answer that, and if any of this gets its way to the press I will ruin you.” He turned his back while she finished dressing.
Glancing at his watch, he knew it would be morning where Noelle was. He waited for the woman to finish dressing, pulled a couple of notes from his wallet as he grabbed his trousers. He handed the bills to her.
“I’m not a whore,” she said.
“I know. This is for a few drinks downstairs.”
She took the money and left his hotel room. Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he swore several times. If he didn’t get them under control his feelings for Noelle would threaten everything. He refused to feel anything and allow himself to be exposed to the kind of pain his mother had gone through.
He took his mobile phone to the kitchen and dialled her number.
“Hello,” she said as she answered several moments later. She sounded distracted.
“Hi.”
“Isaac?”
“The very same.”
“It’s so good to hear your voice. I miss you.”
“I’m missing you, too.” More than you could imagine.
“How is business?”
“Boring. I miss our nights together.”
She giggled, and when he closed his eyes, he could see her smile.
“I’m going to back on Friday. Will you meet me at the hotel?” he asked. Plans began working in his mind.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
“Good.”
“I love you, Isaac.”
“I know. I’ll see you on Friday. I just needed to hear your voice.” Rubbing his eyes, he felt his stomach turn at what he was going to do to rid her from his mind.
“See you Friday. I’m sending kisses down the line.” He chuckled despite himself.
“I’ll kiss you when I see you.”
“I can’t wait.”
They hung up, and Isaac made another quick call. If he couldn’t have any other woman then Noelle was going to be his for the keeping.
****
Noelle smiled as she put her mobile down. She hoped he was okay. He sounded distracted. Glancing at the painting she was making, she felt herself blush. The image was of Isaac as he lay against the bedroom of the hotel. He was smiling. She hadn’t bought herself round to painting the lower part of his body.
She heard Brad get up and went out to check on her friend. Making sure the door to her studio was closed she saw him buttering some toast.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello.”
“We barely see each other at the moment. How have you been, Brad?”
“I’m fine. I’m not falling off the wagon if that’s what you mean.”
“Of course not. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said, switching the kettle on.
“How is the painting going?” he asked, and she noticed he avoided her question.
“Slowly.”
“Let me know when you want me to set up a meeting. Just so you know I came by one of those collectors who would be interested in selling your work at a big exhibition. He’s loved your work so far, and from what I’ve heard it is hard for artists to break into the world.”
“I’m not ready for that.”
“I know, but it gives you something to think about.”
She smiled and poured him a cup of tea. He wore a short sleeved t-shirt, and she saw some of his old track marks. The doctor had said it would take time for the worst of the scars to heal. Seeing the evidence of the drug abuse made her feel like a lousy friend.
“I know. I’m going to change my shirt in a minute,” Brad said as he covered his arms. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just taken back a little. You’ve fought so hard for where you are today. I hope Ben sees the battle you’ve had. Maybe you could be open and honest with him about your past.”
“He’s got too much to deal with. Ben doesn’t need to hear my sappy story.” He sipped at his drink, and she knew it had to be burning him.
“I love you, Brad. Don’t ever call your story sappy. You survived, and not many people can say that.”
“I’m going to go to work.”
“You can’t,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Brad stood on the opposite side of the kitchen counter.
“They phoned the other day and said they couldn’t keep you on. Something about the way the markets were and everything.”
When the call had come in, she’d been shocked to hear how quickly they could get rid of someone. She knew the lack of work wasn’t what he needed right now. He needed to be able to fill his time with something.
“So, it’s another handout from my dad again.”
“Or not. I found this in the paper yesterday. I phoned and arranged an interview for you.” She handed him the paper where she’d circled it.
“This is for a youth centre. What good would I be in a youth centre?” he asked.
“More than you think. Some of the kids today are dealing with a lot of crap. Go for the interview, and spend a couple of weeks and see how you feel. If you don’t like it then go to your dad and ask for money.”
She knew he would go to his dad if he had to, but he would prefer to make his own money.
“You’re too good for me. You know that?”
“I know.”
Noelle watched him walk to his room. She felt bad with how things have been between them. They’d met under extreme circumstances, and she would like to think they could survive everything.
Stretching her neck, she made herself some toast before going back into her studio. Having an exhibition would be a huge step. Unfortunately, she couldn’t cope with all of that attention. So many people would be staring at her work. When Brad had people come to view her work in the apartment she stayed out of the way.