Page 30 of Fractured Trust

He didn’t have to look at her to know there was a crease between her brows.

“Yep.” He didn’t elaborate.

The awkward silence stretched out. Noah debated what to say—or whether he should say anything at all—to persuade her not to leave. He knew her taking the job had been his idea, but it was possible he hadn’t thought it through properly when he’d made the suggestion. Not having her around anymore might be the best thing for his sanity. But would it be the best thing for her? And damn it, he still cared about what was best for her. It was like an ingrained habit that over a decade apart hadn’t broken—to want her to be happy, to see her beautiful smile. No matter what had happened between them.

While he’d been thinking, Summer had been looking around the interior of his car. She turned to him, and when he risked a glance over at her, he could see the bemused expression on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“I didn’t think this would be the type of car you’d drive. I always picture you in a pickup. A luxury one these days, of course.” A hint of teasing had filtered into her voice. “But something you could throw a surfboard or a dirt bike in the back of.”

Noah looked around the narrow confines of the Porsche. It was true; he didn’t take this car out very often, preferring one of the several pickup trucks he owned—although most of them were refurbished classics, not luxury. But sometimes when he was driving in L.A. traffic, he chose this one for its maneuverability. He shifted gears, and his arm brushed hers, awareness of her proximity sending a pulse of heat through him.

“What, you don’t think I could strap a surfboard on the top of this baby?”

She laughed softly; the sound hitting him in the gut. Neither of them said anything else, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable as it should have been.

When Noah finally pulled up outside her apartment building, he scanned the area, his brows drawing down. “Why the hell are you living here?”

“Because this is what I can afford.” Summer’s eyes were wide at the sudden anger snapping through his words.

“This isn’t a safe neighborhood.”

Summer laughed lightly. “It’s fine, Noah.” When Noah didn’t relent, her expression sobered. She reached out to touch his arm. “Honestly, it’s safe. Just because it’s not an exclusive estate doesn’t mean it’s dangerous.”

Agitation coursed through him. Her reminder that he was living in luxury within a secure estate, while she was living in a small apartment in a dodgy area rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t like it.

Summer pulled her hand back. “Well, thank you for the ride.” She gave him a tiny, uncertain smile, and before he could think twice, he was unbuckling his seat belt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m walking you to your door.”

“You don’t have to do that, Noah. I walk to my door on my own every day.”

“Well, not today,” he growled.

He shoved his car door open, slamming it behind him as he made his way around to the passenger side. Summer’s eyes were big as he opened her door for her.

She swung her long legs out and stood, looking at him with wary curiosity. And he got it because he wasn’t sure why he was acting this way either. But he couldn’t seem to stop.

“Come on,” he said, gruffly.

They walked to the front door of the apartment building, and he waited while Summer unlocked it. She turned to him, that same uncertain smile curving her lips. “Well, thanks—”

“Ask me to come in.” His voice was rough.

She gaped at him. “What?”

“I want to talk to you, and I don’t want to do it out here.”

Summer licked her lips, and she swallowed.

“Summer, ask me—”

“Okay, sure, come in.”

He followed her up the stairs and into her apartment, which was small but tidy, with vibrant pictures on the wall. A soft-looking throw blanket hung from the back of her couch. It was exactly the way he’d imagined a place of hers would look.

---