Page 253 of Hell Hath No Fury
“Today was…” he trails off, before squeezing his eyes shut in some kind of disbelief, opening them with a vulnerability I thought was exclusively mine. “I had the best fucking time, you little smartass. More than I even thought I would. And I thought I would.”
I don’t know what to say to that, but, typically, my cheeks flush red, and speak for themselves. I wasn’t expecting that kind of declaration.
“Me, too,” I finally force out, my voice smaller than I intend.
Noah takes a step forward, leaving no space between us, his hand coming up to tuck my hair behind my ear. I can’t help but note the care he takes to avoid looking at Jonah’s handiwork, and I can’t blame him. I can’t stand to look at it, either.
Noah huffs out a breath, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger to direct my gaze back to his. “You know, I want more than anything to kiss you right now.”
I stare at him, invitingly, desperately. “Then do it,” I breathe.
But, as if the universe is playing a cruel joke on me, Noah shakes his head. “Not yet, my smartass.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip as it were his own. “The next time I kiss you, it isn’t going to be because of a stupid dare, and it sure as fuck isn’t going to be as a rebound for your piece of shit ex.” He stares down at me intently. “It’s going to fucking count,” he swears.
And with that, Noah nods in the direction of my front door, urging me inside, and for some inexplicable reason, despite my half-disappointed, half-confused frown, I do the incomprehensible. I obey.
CHAPTER TEN
I barely sleep that night. Instead, I obsessively, pathetically, replay the details of the day before, intending to analyze and understand, but, instead, finding myself lost in the perfection of it all.
For the first time in my life, I’m a giddy schoolgirl, pining over a boy, and I feel equal parts silly and excited by the prospect.
At the same time, though, I don’t know what yesterday meant. I know what I want it to mean, but I know better than to trust that a guy still feels on Friday the way he felt on Thursday. Or seemed to feel. And I will not become one of those desperate girls, obsessing over a guy I like, who may or may not really be all that interested in me.
When Noah doesn’t text or call the entire day, I suspect I know what it means. And despite the undeniable measure of disappointment taking hold in my gut, I refuse to keep staring at my phone. I refrain from so much as seeking out his social media accounts; I don’t need to learn anything more about him. I don’t need Noah Reed, or Jonah Berry, or anyone else in my life at all.
And I sure as hell am done sitting around my house waiting for something to change without actually having to change it myself.
I text Jillian the next morning and meet her at Aqualina. I don’t start work until July Fourth weekend, and I might as well get all the free beach-time in I possibly can.
The sun and sea are as soothing as ever, and I wonder why I ever thought that holing up in my house would be more healing than my happy-place.
Oh, right—the bruises.
But they’ve now faded down to almost nothing, and either way, I’m done sacrificing myself to protect Jonah and his abhorrent behavior.
I still haven’t heard from Noah, his silence a stark contrast to all the texts and calls I’ve dodged from Jonah before I finally went ahead and blocked his number. And then blocked him on Snapchat when he tried to message me there. And then Instagram. He’s either gotten the hint, or simply ran out of places to stalk me.
Jill and I grab some iced coffees from the club’s café, and it’s then that I catch sight of Noah. We lock eyes, and I'm taken aback by the way he glares at me. After a few moments, he subtly shakes his head, as if disappointed or even disgusted by me, before turning his bare, toned back on me and walking away.
What the hell was that?
I don’t say anything to Jillian. We haven’t even discussed Jonah let alone Noah, and she knows I like to keep my personal life more private than most.
It isn’t until we settle on lounge chairs by the pool that the dreaded moment arrives. Jonah approaches cautiously, his gaze equal parts contrite and pissed. I know he doesn’t like being ignored. But then, I don’t like being abused.
“Can I talk to you,” he whispers harshly. “In private.”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to talk about, Jonah.”
He grits his teeth. “The hell there isn’t, Lizzie. I’m sorry about the other night. I was drunk, and pissed at you, and—”
I stand up, right in his face so that he has to take a step back. He’s several inches taller than me, but right now, he feels like a small, pathetic boy who simply doesn’t get it.
“I. Don’t. Care.” I practically growl at him. “You will never touch me again. We are done.”
He still won’t accept it, I know, but he’s not worth my time, or further argument, and I walk away, Jillian fast on my heels. Like I have some kind of radar for him, I catch Noah watching me thoughtfully, a perplexed frown coloring his strained, beautiful features. At this point, he can go fuck himself too. Hell, he and Jonah can fuck each other for all I care.
Jill grabs my elbow to stop my heated, hurried gait, and I turn to give her the answers she obviously wants.
