Page 22 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

“Yes, I do.”

“Great! Then you’ll have fun driving my cars.” He smiled charismatically at me and started the engine.

Cars?As in more than one?I asked in silence.

This man made me feel so happy. Just being near him was like a high in itself. The entire afternoon felt like a dream come true, straight out of a movie.

“So, where to, angel?”

“What are our options?”

“Well, I could take you to the theater—we could visit a museum or an art gallery, or we could go back to my hotel, order in, and have a laid-back evening. Which do you prefer? Feel free to add to that list of options.”

Oh, I much preferred the laid-back evening. I wanted to spend some quality time, just the two of us.

“I like your last option.” I stole a glance at him from the corner of my eye, noticing the way his mouth slanted into the sexiest smile. Maybe this was a bad idea, or maybeIwas the bad influence.

****

I’ve always felt way too mature for my age. I guess it’s because I knew that if I disobeyed or acted out, I’d get a “good beating” from Rob. He scared me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was a disobedient teenager every once in a while, but my rule-breaking vendettas had always been carefully calculated (with the purpose of getting away with shit undetected).

The year before, I had tried cigarettes for the first time but nearly coughed up a lung. And that summer, I’d got smashed at Ally’s birthday party—like, totally drunk. I was lucky it was a sleepover. Had I gone home with nothing to show but slurred speech and loss of motor skills, Mom and Rob would’ve killed me.

Many grown-ups these days think my generation of teenagers are dumb, technologically dependent zombies who have no clue how the world works. But we’re actually pretty smart. Well, some of us are. I couldn’t speak for the idiot jocks at my school. I, however, was quite the intellectual. Maybe I was a nerd in the closet. Yeah, that made more sense. I always tried to blend in with the popular crowd, but let’s just say that I didn’t talk about anything remotely philosophical or thought-provoking with my friends.

Prior to Noah pulling a reappearing act, my plan had been to graduate and move far away. As cliché as it sounds, Paris would’ve been nice. I liked to dream big. Mom did her best to instill good morals and values in me. She was always good at giving me advice, but she was terrible at taking her own. These were all the things I was thinking about during the car ride back to Noah’s hotel. He wasn’t talking much—just had the stereo playing at a comfortable volume while we drove through traffic.

“Any idea what you want for dinner?”

Finally, he’d said something!

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“Pizza again?”

He looked over at me, and I let my smile say it all.

****

I could hardly believe my eyes when I stepped inside his hotel suite. It was bigger than my family’s apartment. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a 360-degree view of Manhattan. It was luxuriously furnished in different shades of cream and espresso, with calfskin walls. There was a minibar in the corner, and a massive gathering room. The bedroom was very spacious and had the biggest bed I had ever seen. I couldn’t understand how one person could need for so much space. Maybe he was claustrophobic.

“Wow …”

“You like it?”

“It’s amazing!” I stepped out of his bedroom and took off my jacket and cardigan.

“Wait until you see our home. This is nothing compared to where your daddy’s living.”

Your daddy—that made me cringe.Our home—that made me smile.

“I’m going to order us that pizza. What toppings do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Come on, I asked you first.”

“Green peppers, mushrooms, and diced tomatoes.”

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