Page 61 of Cross My Heart

“You’re right.” I nod. “And that’s whywe’redone.”

Tyler scoffs, turning toward me and grabbing the back of my neck roughly, pulling me toward him. His breath fans over the shell of my ear, and I shiver. His fingers practically burn my skin, and it tingles. “We willneverbe done, Noah Milner.”

Anger crawls down my spine, and my nostrils flare. I turn my face toward him until our foreheads are pressed together, and I roll mine over his. His breath is warm against my lips, and I stare right into his dilated eyes. I want to close the remaining distance between us. I want to press my lips to his and put myself out of my misery—put us both out of our misery. But I don’t. “We are. And the sooner you get over it, the sooner we can get back to being friends. I’m here for six weeks, Tyler. Don’t test me.”

“You’re angry,” he whispers, and his lips brush against mine. I’m aware we’re in public. Aware his employees are probably questioning what the hell is going on. But frankly, the pull between us is stronger than me. “I get it. But I’m not letting you walk away from me—I want you. I need you. Iloveyou.”

My breath hitches. “A little late, love.”

I shove him away, and with his tight grip on my neck, we both almost topple off our stools. But after a quick look around, he finally lets go of me, letting air return into my lungs. I inhale deeply, welcoming the oxygen, and lick my lips. His eyes follow the movement, and my body turns hot.

“Go home, Noah,” Tyler pleads. “Go home and wait for me to clear things up. I can’t do it here, but we need to talk.”

I nod. “Only because I don’t want to spend a fortune on a hotel.” But even I can hear the lie in my voice. I’ve saved every penny for the last six months. I’m just weak for him.

“See you soon.”

“Goodbye, Tyler.”

I get off the barstool and leave, not once looking behind to see if he’s staring longingly after me. I don’t have to look back to know though. I can feel his stare branded into my back. The heat of it is palpable, and I hurry out the door.

A few minutes later, I’m parked in their driveway, contemplating my life choices. It was probably a bad idea to come here, to even ask to come here.

The porch light is on, and I get out of my truck, holding my breath. The path to the door is lined with flowers on either side, rose bushes, and I know how much she loves those. I bet Tyler planted them for her. Jealousy sinks its claws deep into my heart, but I don’t have much time to dwell on it because the front door opens and out comes—Scarlett.

My breath stutters in my lungs, my heart squeezing in my chest as Scarlett Mahone and I make eye contact. She hasn’t changed much, her face looking not one day older than when I left. Her pouty lips purse as we assess each other, and I don’t breathe as I hear her sniffle.

“Noah?” she whispers. “Is it really you?”

My heart squeezes again, and I hold my arms open for her, even though I don’t want to.

But she just stays in place.

And I don’t know what to do.

Tyler thankfully interrupts the moment, pulling up behind me, and I say, “I’m tired, can you tell Ty that I’m going to bed?”

She narrows her eyes on me. “Sure.”

“I’ll see myself to the guest room.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Scarlett steps aside and lets me in, and I realize I don’t have my pain medication or any of my belongings, but I’ll be damned if I go back and get them. I don’t want to run into Tyler, and I definitely don’t want to deal with her. There’s no way Scarlett and I can be in a room together right now. Things need to cool off. They’ve needed to cool off for five fucking years.

I make my way to the guest room, which unfortunately shares a wall with their room. Great, wonderful. I fucking hate my life and myself right now, but I just lock the door behind me and strip. The bed is cold and comfortable, so I close my eyes and ignore the pain. That is until I hear their door slam and a commotion.

“Scar—” Tyler says loudly.

“Fuck you, Tyler,” she seethes, and I can feel the anger in her voice. I feel it in my bones. “You brought him here, knowing I don’t want him here.”

“He’s our best friend!”

“No.” I can just imagine her shaking her head, pursing her lips in anger. “He’s yours.”

“Oh?” Tyler scoffs. “And when did you stop being his?”

“You know damn well when.”