Page 40 of Who's Saving You
I stand quickly, rehearsing in my head every word she’s not going to like, but I pull up short when she emerges from the hallway, the light from the bathroom shining behind her like she’s some kind of apparition. I let my eyes scan her from head to toe, her wet hair hanging loosely over hershoulders, her crossed arms already boxing me out, her tanned legs on display and bare feet with green nail polish.
Interesting.
She narrows her eyes at me as I continue to stare. “Want to take a picture? It will last longer.” She flips me off, and the spell is broken.
I bark a laugh as she rounds into the kitchen. “You’re something else.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that. And I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve had a half-naked woman coming from your bathroom in the middle of the night. I, however, am never that woman, so I’d appreciate it if you’d quit leering at me.”
I stand still, frozen in my spot, watching her move, and when she turns her back on me, all sense is lost. PAPAS is written across the back of the T-shirt. Of course, because the shirt is so big the letters are scrunched, but I damn well know what it says.
And my name on this woman's back looks fucking incredible.
The fridge door slamming shut breaks my trance, and I walk into the kitchen. She glances at me but tries to continue to shut me out, as she rummages around looking for a glass.
“Cabinet left of the fridge. Grab me one, too. We need to talk.”
She throws a glance over her shoulder, but grabs two glasses and puts them on the island. I lean on it, one hand on my hip, the other on the counter, and wait. She pours the orange juice she’s pulled from the fridge into both glasses, then turns and hoists herself up onto the island. She looks at me with one eyebrow raised, and I huff a laugh.
Assert your place here all you’d like, Noelle.
I head to the small bar I have in the corner of the room and grab the vodka. Pouring two splashes into my glass, I raise it to her.
She holds her glass close to her. “Do I need that for our little talk?”
“Depends on how you take bad news,” I say, the edge in my voice sharper than I mean it to be.
She studies me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes a slow sip of her orange juice without the vodka, her voice thick with sarcasm as she says, “More bad news coming from the man who basically kidnapped me tonight? Shocking.”
I lean forward just slightly, enough to close the space between us without touching. Her legs swing slowly as she sits on the counter, brushing close to me, and I swear I can feel the heat coming off her skin like a warning. The T-shirt is bunched up, her thighs on display.
“I didn’t kidnap you,” I say evenly. “I protected you. You just didn’t realize you needed protection.”
Something shifts in her expression, barely enough to notice unless you’re watching her like I am, obsessively, with far too much interest for someone who should be keeping things professional. She could ruin me with one article. Not even a full article, a headline would do me in at this point; just enough doubt for everyone else to start digging too.
“I’m fine,” she says quietly, but it’s the kind of fine that means nothing.
“No,” I reply, my voice dropping. “You’re not. Dante’s guy checked your place. Someone got inside.”
She goes still. Her fingers tighten around the glass, but she doesn’t speak. Her mouth opens, but no sound comesout. And in the air between us, real fear, and something almost electric stirs.
“I—I locked it,” she says, her voice smaller now. “I double locked it.”
“Doesn’t matter. They worked that lock until they got in. He said there were scratches all around it.”
“What’d they take?”
“Nothing.”
She furrows her brows. “So, what were they after…”
Her voice trails off, and I wait a moment before saying, “Do you get it yet?”
Noelle finally looks me in the eyes, and I can see the moment it clicks. She knows she's in danger. She knows it has to do with my story. She doesn’t know exactly why, but she's got the feeling that she’s stepping into something deeper.
“I can’t stay here,” she whispers, half to herself.
“You can and you will.” My tone is final. “Until we figure this out, you don’t go anywhere alone. And you don’t go back to your place.”
