Page 46 of Coming Home

“I’m sorry. That was careless of me to say.” The palm of his right hand cradled her cheek.

“No, it’s not what you said. It’s the fact that I chose to go out with Duncan…again.” She jumped up, needing to move and calm the anxiety jittering along her limbs. With measured steps, she paced the small dock. “There were signs I missed. Even when we dated in high school. My girlfriends went all swoony for how he’d walk me to and from every class, how he’d sit with me at lunch while the other boyfriends sat with their guy friends, and how he’d call or come by my house every day. They’d tell me how lucky I was. So, I thought I was lucky.”

With a huffed breath, she spun, facing the pond, keeping Noah behind her. It was too much to look at him. To see the flex of his pupils as she admitted this out loud.

“He was always possessive. He’d get upset if I didn’t text back right away or if I had plans with someone else. But then the cruel words or cutting remarks would be washed away with a charming smile, surprise gift, or a romantic gesture.”

“Cruel words?”

“He’d say I acted like I was ‘better’ than him, how selfish I was, or that I didn’t know how lucky I was to have him. That everyone says it but me, which always seemed to be reinforcedby my friends,” she whispered, an acrid taste in her throat with Duncan’s remembered jabs.

“Did he ever do more than words?”

She didn’t need to turn to take in the storm clouds marring his handsome features. His clenched jaw and balled-up fists were audible in the deliberate cadence of his speech.

Nat moved to the edge of the pond, lowered to the hard plank surface, and slipped her feet into the cool dark water. “No. Today was the first time he got physical. It was like a Jekyll and Hyde switch went off in him. Only I think the Mr. Hyde in him got stronger over the years. When he grabbed my arm, all my unrecognized apprehensions howled.” She released a long, stuttered breath. “It shouldn’t take someone escalating to that level to realize they’re a bad guy. I mean, I still went out with him. I dated him for almost two years in high school and then went out with him…again.”

The space beside her filled with Noah’s presence. He lowered to a seated position on the edge of the dock beside her, dangling his denim-covered legs in the water.

“First, you broke up with him twice. Both times you realized he was a Grade-A asshole.”

The corners of her lips raised into a weak smile at his words.

“Second, there’s truth behind the cliché about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Guys like Duncan know how to hide who they are. How to lure people and keep them lured.”

“Summer saw it,” she sighed.

“Sometimes it’s easier to see things when you’re on the outside looking in.”

“She wasn’t the only one. Clayton and Evan never liked him.”

“Well, Clayton hasn’t liked any of your boyfriends.”

Their eyes met in a clumsy stare.

Clayton not liking anyone she dated may soon include his best friend. How would their relationship change a friendship that spanned the entirety of both men’s lives?

Weaving their fingers together, Noah lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss on her knuckles. “I’m not worried about Clayton right now. We’ll figure that out. I am worried about you, though. I don’t want to be the guy who tells you what to do, but here it goes, guys like Duncan feed on control. On making people so knotted up that he retains power. Blaming yourself for his actions lets him control you from afar. Please don’t give him the power to take away your ability to see how strong you are. Even if you didn’t know it then, there was something in you thatknewhe was bad news. You broke up with himtwice.”

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deep his words as they floated between them. It was true she’d ended things with Duncan. There’d always been a nibbling concern in her belly about him. How many times had she asked her girlfriends in high school if his behavior was normal? Even the hesitation with this recent dalliance was coated in an unconscious knowing that he was, indeed, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“You’re right. Thank you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her feet danced in the cool pond, one bare foot tapping against the leg of his soaked jeans. “Your jeans are wet. You should have rolled them up or taken them off.”

“You just want to see my butt in my boxer briefs.” He waggled his eyebrows.

With an arched brow, she shoved him into the pond. The splash sprayed cool droplets along her skin.

Emerging from the water, he half-laughed, half-choked. “Oh, you’re in trouble now.” Raising up in the water, his strong arms encircled her waist, hoisting her up in the air.

“Noah!” she squeaked.

It was only fair. Nose plugged and eyes closed in a preemptive bracing, she readied to be hurled into the water. Only there was no hurling. Instead, he eased them into the water together, his arms wrapped around her as he walked them to the middle of the pond, where he could still touch, but she could not.

Goose pimples bloomed along her skin. Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, she leaned into the anchored floating sensation. Somehow, she was both light in the gravity-defying water and, yet, tethered to safety in his arms.

“Well, this is one way to make me wet,” she joked.

He burst into laughter. The blue in his eyes sparkled as if all the stars in the sky had been relocated within them. “Your quick wit is one of my favorite things about you.”

---