Page 115 of Aria

But before I could try to further explain my rambling, his gaze shifted over my shoulder, twisting into something akin to apprehension.

“What?” I frowned. “What is it?”

“I know those guys,” Noah said, nodding toward a group of men on the opposite side of the room. “They were with Ian the night I beat the shit out of him at this bar.”

I swiveled in my seat, looking back at the three men laughing with each other. My blood ran cold. “I know one of them. That’s Brad, Ian’s brother. He’s bad news.”

“Well, it looks like Brad just spotted you.”

Brad locked eyes with me and stood from his chair, almost knocking it backward.

“Shit,” I whispered, dread simmering beneath the surface of my skin. If Brad and his cronies were here, Ian couldn’t be far.

He sauntered over to our table with his hands in his pockets. “Well, well, well. What are you fine people doing in a place like this?”

“Same as you, man,” Noah shrugged, propping his ankle up on one knee, giving off the impression of casual indifference.

I tensed in my chair, unable to keep the anxiety from creeping into my bones. Just the sight of Brad brought back all sorts of haunting memories. Ian and Brad had always been incredibly close—a deadly duo. Brad had been in and out of jail most of his life for assaults and petty crimes, and on one occasion, he had beaten a man unconscious for lightly rear-ending Ian’s car.

And the things he had done to Riley…

He was evil, just like his brother.

Brad turned to me, an eerie smile forming on his lips. “Look at you, princess. A true “rags to riches” story. Can I get your autograph?”

“Look, we don’t want any trouble,” Noah said, clearing his throat. He stood from his chair and tossed some cash down onto the table. “Let’s go, Chelsie.”

Brad threw his hands up. “Hey, I have no trouble to give. If I remember correctly, you’re the one with the anger issues.” His smirk contorted into a malevolent scowl as he leaned in close to Noah’s face. “But if you lay another hand on my brother, you’ll be in for a wholeworldof trouble.”

He ignored the threat.

I shuddered as Noah helped me hop down from the chair and led me to the door, while Ian’s gang of losers whistled and cheered as we exited the bar.

Stalling for a moment on the sidewalk, Noah snatched his smokes out of his back pocket. “Fucking assholes,” he mumbled around the cigarette, fumbling for a lighter. “Let’s get out of here.”

He started walking.

Then he stopped.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he took me by the elbow and guided me into an alley adjacent to the bar.

“Noah?” I glanced around, confused, watching as he began pacing back and forth.

“You know what?” he blurted, hands linked behind his head. “I can’t do this anymore. This ends now.”

“What?”

“This.” Noah spun toward me, flicking his finger between us. “You and me.”

“Noah, please…” My heart raced with fear, my skin growing hot; a welcome contrast to the elements. Noah’s eyes were searching for answers, his cigarette dangling between his fingers, and I couldn’t tell the difference between its puffs of smoke and his breath hitting the icy air. “I just want things to go back to the way they were,” I told him. “I miss you. I screwed it all up.”

He shook his head, running a hand through unruly hair. “You miss me? Well, I’m right fucking here.” He threw his arms out with frustration. “You’re hot and cold. You’re running into my arms, and then you’re running back to Devon. You want to be friends, but then you kiss me and let me between your legs. You say it meant something, but what? What did it mean?” he demanded, his tone escalating. “What do youreallywant, Chelsie?”

A vision popped into my head.

Noah, Sam, and I snuggled up on the living room couch watchingToy Storyon repeat. There was popcorn and tickle fights and unrestrained laughter. There was dinner in the oven and cookie dough ice cream for dessert. There were drawings painted on bright colored construction paper, hanging up on the refrigerator.

There was warmth, music, and hope.

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