Page 52 of Wild

She'd been left on the edge before, with women who couldn't find what she needed, and she knew that maddening feeling of having an orgasm right there and not being able to get it to break free. Today had been different. She hadn't come because Noah interrupted them, but the frustration had been so much worse than anything before—to the point where Erin had touched herself in the shower because she couldn't stand the tension coiled in her belly.

Shifting her gaze to the window, the doctor gets up and walks to the door, trying not to think about anything. She'll go in, do her job, and get out of the singer's room quickly.

She steps into the hallway at the same moment as Noah, and they both stare at each other for a few seconds. The way Mia's assistant flushes and gives her one of his sincere, shy smiles tells Erin he already knows—and what surprises her most is that it doesn't bother her, because she's always trusted him despite barely knowing him.

"Hey, Erin," he says, stepping aside from the door.

"Hey, Noah."

"You going in? She's in the shower, but she shouldn't be long."

Erin had taken a step toward the door, but she stops when she hears Mia is in the bathroom—because the first thing her unruly mind does is picture her naked—and decides she'd rather come back later.

Noah catches her hesitation and pushes his tousled bangs off his forehead uselessly, since they always fall right back.

"Feel like grabbing a coffee? By the time we're done, she'll be ready."

Erin hesitates for a moment, but eventually says yes, and the two of them ride down in silence on the elevator and walk together to the hotel restaurant.

To the doctor's surprise, Noah orders herbal tea and she orders a double coffee with a packet of sugar.

"Do you know if her headache went away?" Erin asks, trying to break the ice, as Noah takes off his jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair.

"I didn't ask," he answers with a sheepish grimace.

She smiles. If she liked men, she's pretty sure she could fall for someone like Noah—considerate, reliable, kind, loyal, easy to be around, with that natural charm of someone who manages to look like a bad boy and a puppy at the same time.

"It's fine. I'll check in with her in a minute."

Noah takes a sip of his cup when it arrives and rests his arms on the table, and Erin catches sight of the Danny tattoo on his forearm again—and this time she can't resist.

"Can I ask you something personal? You don't have to answer if it's too personal or makes you uncomfortable. I'm just curious."

Mia's assistant looks both surprised and intrigued.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead."

"The tattoo." Erin nods toward it. "I noticed Mia has one too. Who's Danny?"

"He was our friend. We all met each other at pretty much the same time, at this place that had live music on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Three teenagers who had no business being there—at least Mia and I didn't." He smiles. "Danny was the guitarist for a solo act that played that night, and somehow, by the time the show was over, the three of us ended up sitting together at a table. We clicked fast, because we all came from the kind of families that are better not to have."

Erin's heart stops, and Noah smiles at the way she's looking at him.

"You can ask whatever you want. Mia and I talk about this a lot between ourselves, and we don't hide where we came from around anyone we trust."

"Am I someone you trust?" Erin asks, genuinely surprised.

"I can't speak for her, but you've been that for me since the night you treated Mia after she collapsed at the concert. We're not friends, exactly, but I feel at ease around you." Noah shrugs with his usual open expression.

"What kind of family is better not to have?" the doctor asks—she'd rather ask than guess.

"My parents were the kind who had a kid because that's what you did, but had zero interest in him, so I grew up completely alone in an occupied house—like they were two strangers sleeping in the room next door. It was a really strange feeling. I'm supposed to be grateful that someone fed me, I guess, but I grew up with such a crushing sense of emptiness that I think I would've preferred a group home, where at least the staff would've looked at me long enough to make me feel like I existed."

"I'm sorry, Noah."

"Thanks. Danny's story wasn't so different—except his parents ignored him because they were always high. And Mia's story—which I figure is the one you're most interested in," he adds with a little smirk that makes the doctor smile, "is a little different, but it ends up in the same place. She grew up alone with her mom, never knowing who her father was. She had to teach herself to cook at six because her mom spent her days with whatever guy she was seeing at the time. Sometimes she'd leave Mia alone for a couple of days, and when she came back she'd bring some guy who took up all her attention. Mia grew up knowing her survival depended on herself—with a mother whoignored her and who she had to take care of when she got sick, instead of the other way around."

Erin doesn't say anything. In fact, her mind goes quiet for a few seconds, because part of her recognizes herself in the singer's story. Not the same story—she had her mother's love—but it felt like not having it, because her mom left for work before she woke up and came home after she was in bed, so she barely saw her, and her survival and her sister's survival also depended on her. If Erin didn't make dinner, no one in that house did. No one took care of her when she was sick or backed her up when she had a problem. She realizes now, listening to Noah, that she grew up alone too—and still is.