Page 68 of Negotiating Tactics

Despite coming through my locked and dead bolted door, Noah’s voice wasn’t muffled.

He’d been knocking for fifteen minutes, and for fourteen of those minutes I had resolutely ignored him, choosing instead to stay gleefully nestled under my blankets.

But at his words, something clicked.

I knew Noah well enough to know that he didn’t make idle threats, so I somehow pulled myself out of bed and opened the door a crack.

“I’m tired, go away,” I muttered, keeping my gaze centered on Noah’s fancy black sneakers.

Seeing them reminded me of the boots I would treasure forever and sparked another rush of tears.

I started to close the door, but Noah stopped me, easily pushing his way in.

I kept my gaze on his shoes, but I knew what I would see if I looked at him.

His disapproving frown, the anger flashing in his dark eyes.

I couldn’t handle that.

“Are you breaking in again?” I asked, in a low, angry voice of warning.

A warning that Noah brushed off like it was nothing.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for three fucking days.”

His voice was almost guttural with restrained rage.

I shrugged it off. “So what? I’ve been ignoring you for three fucking days. Didn’t you get the hint?” I asked.

He grabbed my chin and tilted my head up.

I refused to meet his eyes.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Emotion I refused to let touch me. “Well, as you can see,” I said, gesturing at my T-shirt and short-covered body, “I’m very much alive. So you can go.”

I felt like a nightmare and didn’t even dare imagine how I looked.

But I didn’t give a shit.

Noah, who now gripped my arm, didn’t move. He just stared at me, the intensity in his glare almost overpowering even though I still refused to look at him.

He sniffed. “You stink. Go take a shower and brush your teeth. And comb your hair while you’re at it,” he said.

That finally got me to look at him.

His lips were thin line of rage.

That was a feeling I could latch on to. “Fuck off, Noah.”

His hold didn’t tighten. He didn’t even move. But something made me relent.

“Fine,” I said, wrenching out of his hold and heading back to my bathroom.

I got in the shower, not even bothering to let the water get warm.

The icy blast made me shiver, but I didn’t try to avoid it.

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