Page 32 of Truce: Declan
"Do you want to talk about what happened back there?" Noah asks.
His fingers are once again tapping against the steering wheel.
"Me leaving?" I ask and chance a glance in his direction.
The traffic light turns red, and he slows to a stop and glances at me.
My breath catches in my throat. The air is thick and heavy. I inhale sharply and bite down on my bottom lip. "It was getting too crowded."
His gaze flinches, and I can't tell if he knows I'm lying or is unconvinced. "Crowded," Noah repeats.
The word sounds flimsy on his lips. He's not buying my story.
And I refuse to tell him who my father is because that would make a mess of things. Plus, I can't expect him to hide our relationship from the world, not when I'm showing up at his games wearinghisjersey.
I don't want that to change, either.
"And here I thought you were just unimpressed by the company." There's a smile that adorns his face. It's simple. Sweet. Boyish.
It's hard not to fall for him, even if it's a bad idea.
But the problem is that I've already fallen hard. It was one date. One passionate night. And now I've become obsessed with the man like a crazy stalker.
I mean, except that I'm not physically stalking him. Save that job for someone like Amber, who, yes, I know, was stalking her crush online. The girl can't keep a secret from me.
"I like your company," I say and smile weakly before he returns his attention to the road as the light turns green. "I just, sometimes, prefer a less crowded space."
"Yeah, I'm not buying that, Charlotte." He shifts, the tension growing thicker, like ropes in his muscles as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel.
The tension before was palpable. Now, it's suffocating.
I open my mouth to askwhat do you meanwhen he continues speaking.
"I've seen you go out with Amber. I've heard stories." He grimaces and shakes his head, "I don't care about the past, but I know there’s a wild side. So, telling me that you don't like crowds or it was too busy a night is absolute and utter bullshit. And I don’t like to be lied to."
My voice is soft and calm, trying not to worsen the situation. "What stories have you heard?" I ask.
"I know you party. Like to have fun. Cut loose. Whatever," he says with a dismissive wave. "Jasper mentioned having to pick Amber up one time, because you disappeared at a party."
"Oh my gosh," I gasp. I know the party he's referring to, and my cheeks burn remembering that torrid night. "You were talking about my sex life?" The car is a million degrees. How are the windows not fogging up? I open the window, needing a blast of cold air because my stomach is like a sailboat in the middle of a hurricane.
"Well, not specifically." He chuckles, and I'm relieved he's not trying to humiliate me.
However, it doesn't mean I'm any less embarrassed to discuss the topic with him. "Anyways," I say with a bit of forcefulness, wanting to change the topic to anything else. "I needed to get out of there. I was heading for the subway when you showed up."
"I figured as much." He glances at me, perhaps realizing that I don't intend to answer his question on why I left.
He lets it go. And I hope that's the last of it.
The remainder of the ride is in silence, mostly listening to music on the radio, but not much is said between us. As he approaches my apartment complex, I unbuckle my belt while he pulls over to park the car.
"Thanks for the ride."
He shuts off the engine and opens the car door. I wasn't expecting him to walk me to my door. Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm expecting. Tonight wasn't a date, but I still feel out of sorts. I like him, but I'm not sure he's good for me.
He's made it clear he puts his career first. I thought I was okay with that, but the feeling of being emotionally crushed doesn't exactly screamokay.
And then there’s the photographer tonight.
