Page 98 of Aria

“Noah…”

“Go home, Chelsie.”

Hot tears clouded my vision, my face flushing with chagrin at his dismissal. “Why are you being like this?”

He finally stood and faced me with a look that could only be described as audacity, his arms extending at his sides. “What the hell do you want from me, Combs?”

My knees were pulled up to my chest as tears began to fall. His tone was full of exasperation, as if he’d reached the end of some invisible rope. But I didn’t know there was a rope. I wanted to give him more slack, but I didn’t know how, and I couldn’t conjure up the words he needed. “I don’t know.”

I knew I’d failed.

I’d pulled the rope right out of his hands.

“Go home.”

Home.

Why did it feel like I was already home?

Inching toward the edge of the bed, I hesitated when my bare feet touched the cool surface of the floor. “What do you want fromme?” I countered. My back was facing Noah, but I could picture his slow blink of frustration.

“Chelsie…”

Resignation. Weariness.

I rose from the mattress, turning to look at him, needing to see his face.

“I can’t give you that answer,” he said. “Not because I don’t know… but because there’s no point.”

Chewing on my lower lip, I wrapped my arms around myself like a security blanket.

“I can’t be what you need,” he finished.

Panic erupted inside my chest at the finality in his tone. “What are you saying? We can’t be friends?”

“I’m saying there is nowe.”

His words stung. The slow burn of dissolution and guilt rattled me as I rubbed my hands up and down my upper arms, my chin quivering. Only a king-sized bed stood between us, but it felt like a million miles.

I knew there was nothing more I could say. How could I possibly convey what he meant to me?

God… whatdidhe mean to me?

Last night I had begged him to make love to me.

Today I was desperate to have my friend back.

“I’ll call myself an Uber,” I said, turning to exit the room.

When I glanced back over my shoulder at Noah, he was looking away from me, rubbing a hand down his face and shaking his head.

Disappointment.

I was good at disappointing people.

Maybe it was better this way.

I passed by Sam’s bedroom before I reached the staircase. He was sitting on the floor, playing with cars and trucks, talking to himself as he pushed the tiny vehicles around the carpet. There were clothes popping out of his chest of drawers; an assortment of blues and oranges and yellows peeking out the tops. I closed my eyes for a moment, etching the image into my memory, envisioning the navy walls and plush white carpet. A dinosaur border displayed along the edges of the room, accenting all four walls. The ceiling fan circling around and around, sending the green and white striped drapes fluttering back and forth.

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