The instant I saw Carter pacing back and forth in the lobby, I realized that I didn't want my adventure with Noah to end. A torrent of unwanted thoughts swirled in my head, but they weren't quite strong enough to make me doubt.

"Hey, that's Noah Black!" Carter said, looking over my shoulder excitedly.

"Who?" I asked, trying to feign ignorance.

"What do you mean 'who'?!" Carter demanded. "He's the creator of 'The Warlock's Son'. Natalia invited him to the wedding, but I only briefly saw him during the ceremony."

Holy shit!

Noah was the genius behind one of the most watched shows on television and I'd told him that I didn't like fantasy!! Not only that, but I'd also gone up to his room for a random wedding hookup!

Fuck!

"What did you need, Carter?" I asked, my head a hot mess.

"I don't need anything, bro," he said, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "But there's something we should talk about."

We found a quiet spot in the lobby bar and Carter took a deep breath before saying, "I've been thinking about you a lot."

"I'm fine," I said, dismissively. Was this going to be another one of his pep talks? During his own wedding?

"Natalia and I are flying to Namibia tomorrow for our honeymoon."

"I know," I said, checking the time. Why was this relevant?

"Well, what you don't know is that we won't be coming back for a while," he said. "We've decided to make an extended African tour so we can visit all the places the foundation supports."

"Oh," I said, processing the consequences. I'd been staying in their guest room ever since my release from the psychiatric hospital.

"Also, my in-laws are paying to have our apartment completely refurbished so that it's ready for the..." Carter leaned forward and whispered, "baby."

"Hey, don't worry. I'll just..."

"I've set you up with a one-bedroom and a modest allowance," Carter said kindly. "Just until you get back onto your feet."

"You shouldn't be spending your wife's money on me," I said, poking his soft spot deliberately.

"It's not her money, it's mine," he snapped. "Besides, what kind of brother would I be if I left you homeless whilst I'm on a charity trip abroad?"

"I'll stay with Mom and Dad," I said firmly.

"Oh, please! After two weeks in the mountains, you'd go completely suici..."

He immediately realized his mistake and grabbed me in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"Relax, dude! It's fine," I said, patting him on the back. We used to share a crude sense of humour but now Carter was always walking on eggshells around me.

I'd tried to end my life because I didn't see the point in having one anymore. Everyone claimed they'd forgiven me even though it was never about them in the first place. At least, my ex had simply told me, "I'm not equipped to love someone that can't even love themself."

"I'll take your charity on one condition," I said.

"What the fuck, Dillon?!" Carter demanded, punching my arm.

"Promise that you'll stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"Fine, just don't do anything crazy whilst I'm gone," he said, allowing himself the dark joke.

Carter and I returned to the ballroom only to find his wife gossiping with none other than...

"Noah, I'd like you to meet my husband; Carter, and his brother; Dillon," Natalia said with a radiant smile.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Black!" Carter said, shaking Noah's hand like a doe-eyed fanboy.

"Please, call me Noah," he replied kindly before shifting his attention to me. "I see good looks run in the family."

Carter raised an eyebrow, making me want to laugh out loud.

Natalia continued by saying, "Noah and I attended Morrow Hill together. It feels like a lifetime ago, but we had a lot of fun at school."

"Remember that time when George..." Noah whispered the rest in her ear and they both laughed like they too were siblings.

"Babe, you'll never guess what Noah's wedding present is!" Natalia said as if it had slipped her mind. "We're flying to our Honeymoon on his private jet!"

"But I bought us first-class tickets!" Carter said with a visible pout.

The newlyweds excused themselves to say goodbye to a couple of guests, leaving me alone with Noah again.

"Did I steal his thunder?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned.

I was distracted by his rebel lock of hair that had popped up again and I didn't immediately answer.

"Was my wedding present too much?" he said, apparently thinking he needed to clarify.

"No, of course not," I said to Carter's defence. "He just wants to make her happy but it's hard for him to keep up. Natalia will always be able to outspend him."

"Then she'll have to find a way to make him realize that he doesn't have to," Noah said plainly.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" I scoffed.

"What is your problem with the wealthy?" Noah asked. It was a loaded question, but he seemed curious rather than singled out.

"I don't have a problem with the wealthy but rather our twisted concept of wealth," I said, giving an honest answer. Speaking to him felt unexpectedly easy.

"By all means, tell me more," he said, guiding us towards a cocktail table in a secluded area of the ballroom. No one ever wanted to listen to my theories, so I was surprised that he did.

"I think the way our society is organized does injustice to both the haves and the have-nots," I said, sharing one of my least popular opinions.

"Oh, now you have my attention," he said, signalling one of the servers clearing a table.

"Wealth creates a scarcity mentality as much as poverty does," I said, unfolding my hypothesis slowly. "The rich can become so afraid of losing what they think they own that they'll do anything to stop it from happening."

"Care to elaborate with an example?" he said, actually taking me seriously. It felt good, empowering even.

"A recent study showed that the mega-rich are statistically the biggest tax evaders, hiding more than twenty percent of their wealth," I said. "The top one percent account for a third of unpaid federal taxes, which adds up to more than one hundred and fifty billion a year!"

"Staggering statistics," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

The server had brought us more of Noah's exquisite scotch. I was now officially inebriated and took the conversation on a slight detour.

"Did you know that the money you carry in your pocket or hold in your bank account isn't even considered 'lawful' money?" I said, trying to impress him even more.

"Only the Treasury can issue 'real' money, not the Federal Reserve. The legal tender we use has no intrinsic value of its own, nor is it backed up by anything."

Noah motioned for me to continue but gave no indication of whether I was telling him anything new.

"Technically, we have the right to exchange tender for lawful money but for how much longer? When digital currency is introduced, who'll decide the value of what we have?"

"So, you pity the rich and the poor?" Noah asked, leaning forward and staring deep into my eyes.

"Apart from a very select few, the system encourages us to strive for false ownership. Eventually, it will all come crashing down and we'll be royally fucked," I said.

"How do you know that I'm not part of the select few? he asked, his fingers gently rubbing over the top of my hand.

"Simple," I said. "You're not rich enough."

It seemed like everything I'd said riled him up but definitely not in the way that I was used to.

***

"Not only beautiful... but smart and..." Noah breathed, as he slowly kissed my neck. It was driving me wild but now I needed to know what else he was going to say.

"And what?" I said, pushing a hand into his pants just far enough to pinch the top of his bum.

"...and strongly opinionated," he said, moments before biting my bottom lip hard enough to elicit pain and pleasure all at once.

We'd found an empty meeting room but if this was going to go any further, we'd probably have to move our private party elsewhere.

"Do you know why I couldn't go through with it earlier?" he said, unbuttoning my shirt.

"You couldn't get it up?" I asked, purposely prodding him.

His eyes flared and he squeezed both my nipples hard. My pants suddenly became tighter.

Noah put his thumb into my mouth and rubbed it over my tongue. His pupils were dilated, and he smelled differently than the first time he'd made his indecent proposal.

"I need to feel a connection before we... fuck." He breathed the last word against the side of my neck.

"How do I qualify?" I asked, gently putting a hand on his chest. I could feel that his heart was beating as fast as mine.

He kissed me with the hunger of barely contained lust and said, "You already have."

Less than two hours later and we'd come full circle. This time, however, it was crystal clear what was going to happen next.