Noah's POV
The suite was a tomb. A ridiculously expensive, marble floored tomb.
I had been pacing for three hours, my shoes clicking against the stone until I felt like I was losing my damn mind. Erica was sprawled on the velvet sofa, sipping her drink, watching me like I was some pathetic animal in a zoo exhibit. I didn't care, I couldn't care.
"I need him, Erica," I spat out, stopping dead to look at her. "Things were going damn well, until that psycho Gabriel came between us."
"You are acting childish Noah," she said, her voice dripping with that bored, jagged edge I hated. "Just call him again. This time he could pick up."
"I can't just call him again!" I hissed, the memory of Hawaii hitting me like a physical punch to the gut.
My stomach did that familiar, sick roll. I shut my
