Page 245 of Hell Hath No Fury
I cut him off. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Noah stares skeptically. “The guy you’re dating then,” he qualifies.
I shake my head again. “No, we’re done.” I shoot him a meaningful look. “I’m not some pathetic little girl,” I insist. “He’s never done anything like that before.” But I choke on my words, because I know they’re a lie. “He’s never gonethat farbefore,” I correct.
Noah nods thoughtfully. “You’re not going to report him, are you?” It’s more statement then question, and I don’t miss the disapproval.
I don’t respond, because he’s right, on all counts.
“Well, that’s one way to break up,” he comments.
My eyes narrow. As if I wanted this. As if I would have ever asked for this. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”
Noah grimaces, taken aback. “What?”
“You think I asked for this? That Iwantedhim to—”
“Fuck no,” Noah defends. He takes a step toward me, his too-expensive sneakers dipping into the seawater, but he pays them no mind. He hunches his shoulders, lowering his head so that our gazes are on equal ground, and it’s entirely at odds with Jonah’s forced eye-contact of not just minutes before, but many times before that. “No, Liza. You were very fucking clear about what youasked for.”
My own words ring out in my mind:Please, let me go, Jonah!
Noah nods carefully at my understanding.
I swallow dryly through my sore, abused throat, trying to hide my wince, but I’m not sure Noah misses it. His expression softens, as if leaving Jonah and their physical altercation behind, and focusing on me, instead. There’s something about having the full focus of Noah Reed, his eyes holding mine captive in ways Jonah couldn’t achieve even with his hand around my neck.
But considering the night’s circumstances, I find myself ashamed by the fluttering in my belly… and lower.
“I was referring to your knee to his ‘nads,” Noah explains.
Huh?
My confusion must be obvious, because he elaborates. “I hope you don’t break up with all your boyfriends that way. I’m hurting just thinking about it.” The corner of his mouth slides cautiously into a half-smirk, and it takes me off guard.
My short laugh is so out of place after tonight that it comes out more like a snort, and I cover my face in embarrassment. But Noah’s soft chuckle is strangely, inexorably soothing to my soul, and when I remove my hands from my eyes, his own are undeniably lighter.
“Let me get you an Uber,” he suggests, and it catches me off guard.
I won’t pretend I don’t appreciate his rescue tonight, because I have to admit to myself that I truly don’t know how the night would have ended otherwise. But he’s also not my fucking father, he’s barely even a friend, and I don’t need him taking care of me indefinitely. If there’s anything tonight has taught me, it’s that I don’t need some dude trying to control my actions. Ever.
“I’m just going to walk. I need the air.” I explain, because he does deserve at least that, I suppose.
I expect Noah to shrug it off, to make his way up the beach, to Jillian's, and join the party he showed up for in the first place, and appears to have yet to actually attend. His judgmentalexpression is unexpected, but I’ve taken about all I can tonight, and I decide I need to get myself home and figure myself out. Like, now.
“Didn’t I tell you earlier it’s not a good idea for you to be out walking the beach alone at night?” Noah accuses, and I’m surprised by his change in tone.
It bugs me. More the concern than the judging, for some incomprehensible reason.
“Well, I think Jonah has been neutralized.” I quip.
For now, I continue inwardly, a breath shy of thanking Noah for his help tonight, my completely unwarranted ego preventing me from swallowing down my pride and following through.
“I think I’m safe from psycho ex-boyfriends for the time being,” I add with more conviction than I believe in, hoping my casual affectation comes off as more convincing than I actually feel. Especially considering I don’t actuallyhaveany other ex-boyfriends.
“Liza…” The drawn-out sound of my name in Noah’s deep, gravelly timbre almost distracts me from his skeptical tone.
Almost.
But I can’t deny that, despite not bothering to elaborate, Noah’s point isn’t lost on me. Surely, Jonah isn’t all there is to worry about when it comes to the world at large. Even in our relatively safe, seaside neighborhood. But I can’t seem to admit to myself that reality gets worse than tonight. Intelligently I know better, but, right now, just the thought is more than I can bear.
