Page 126 of Aria

I nibbled on the inner lining of my cheek.

Was I, though? Was I…free? My experiences with Ian forever changed me as a person. My life would never be the same because of him. Maybe, even in death, he would still hold onto me with a merciless, unforgiving grip. When I closed my eyes, he would be there laughing at me. Mocking me. Squeezing his cold, dead fingers around my neck.

No, I would never be free.

I didn’t relay my thoughts to Noah, and instead, forced out the faintest of smiles.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.” Noah grazed his finger along my jawline, shooting goosebumps across my skin.

My breath caught.

Our gazes locked again, and I flashed back to the alleyway, recalling the look in Noah’s eyes after he had just been shot.

Confusion. Incredulous disbelief.

“Because I’m in love with her.”

His confession rocketed through me, forcing my heart to thunder inside my chest. I replayed those words a thousand times since they’d reached my ears, but not with him so close. “Did… did you mean it?” The question escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

I watched his micro-expressions carefully. The slight twitch of his jaw. A single blink. The way his tongue poked out to moisten his dry lips.

“Mean what?”

Heknewwhat I meant; he had to. Did he want me to say it? Bring it back to life?

“Noah…” I breathed out.

He shifted on the bed and looked away. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

I frowned, my chest squeezing tight. “In the alley,” I explained. “Right before… you know…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

Noah hesitated, parting his lips and then closing them. He glanced back at me, his eyes shimmering with something unreadable. “I can’t remember. Everything is such a blur.”

Don’t you lie to me, Noah Hayes.

My jaw clenched as I nodded with acceptance.

It was too much.

Too soon.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him, forcing another smile through the tears. I brushed the tips of my fingers through his hair, grateful he was still here, and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, his breath hitching. “It’s not important,” I whispered.

Now, I’m the liar.

The truth was… itwasimportant.

It was, in fact, everything.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

CHELSIE

Atub of peanut butter fudge ice cream was clutched in my hands as I sat propped in front of the television on Lisa’s couch. My friend was beside me, flipping through the new Netflix releases and texting Miles.

“I don’t understand men,” Lisa said with exasperation. “They’re so hot and cold—one minute their entire universe revolves around you, and then the next day they can’t even text you back.”

I wiped at the ice cream dribbling down my chin. “You know how Miles is,” I shrugged.

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