Page 37 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

Suddenly, she shifted her weight so that she was sitting astride me.

And then she did something that completely caught me by surprise. The gray Harvard shirt slid right off her body within a blink of an eye. Aria had pulled it over her head and tossed it behind her.

Fuck … pushup bra in my face!Yep, I was officially freaking out.

“Aria, what are you—”

I wasn’t able to finish what I was about to say because my hands had suddenly landed on her breasts, and I swear this didn’t happen by my own free will. Shegrabbedmy wrists and placed them there.

“I know you want me.”

“Stop this! You’re my daughter!” I pulled my hands away, but she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and moved her body closer, locking me in place.

“You don’t love me?” There was a palpable pain in her eyes, and it made me feel so helpless because I wanted nothing more than to take that agony away. But how? What was she asking of me?

“I do, more than my life.” My heart was beating so fast, it reminded me of my near-death experience when I almost overdosed ten years earlier.

“Then show me.”

I was desperately trying to shackle myself to a wall in my mind, but she was sitting right in front of me, almost naked. The animal within wanted to break free and ravage her. Her hands kept brushing up and down my chest before she leaned in and kissed my neck.

My body reacted. Instant arousal. I had a hard-on pressing right against her barely there panties and believe me when I say that I wanted my blood to rush anywhere butthere.

“Mmm … Noah …”

Good God, I needed to stop this.

“Aria, stop! I said, stop!” I lost control of my temper as I roughly grabbed her shoulders and shoved her away. I meant to use a stern tone, borrowing a disciplinary tactic straight from the authoritarian parenting guide, but I wound up sounding like a raging, crazed maniac in dire need of anger management. And to make matters worse, I didn’t quite know my own strength, because I made her recoil from me. She rubbed the area where my hands were, with tears in her eyes. I felt like absolute shit.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to yell or hurt you.”

“No, it’s my mistake—of course you wouldn’t want me.” Aria got up and ran into the bedroom.

Before I could catch up to her, she stormed back out with her jeans on, sliding her arms in the sleeves of her shirt. This was a moment of horror for me. I stood where I was, watching her switch on the light and pull her coat out of the closet. All my fears and anxieties were coming to life. This was bad. Real bad. She was going to leave me.

“Where are you going?” I was panicking, rushing toward her and grabbing her wrist.

“I’m leaving, I can’t stay here another minute.”

“It’s the middle of the night. I can’t let you go and walk the streets at this hour!” I was desperately trying to control my splintering temper.

“Let go of me!” She yanked her arm away.

How is this happening? How?I had cried only twice in my life: once when I was little and my dog died, and the second time was when I had got so high and drunk that I wanted to kill myself because of the guilt I felt about abandoning my daughter. This was going to be the third time I would allow myself to break down. She was leaving me, and I was desperate for her not to go.

“Aria—Aria, listen to me.” I tried to reason with her, feeling humiliated as fresh hot tears hazed my vision.

“No. I’m done.”

I stepped in front of the entrance door, blocking her escape.

“Move, Noah!”

She wouldn’t look at me, but I could see the tears in her eyes.

“No, look at me!” My voice was strained with emotion as I masked my hurt with anger. Those beautiful eyes looked up at me, mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks, and it shattered my heart a thousand times over. My adrenaline had spiked on overdrive, I was painfully constricted in my boxer briefs, and I was trying to pull myself together, all at the same time. What a fucked-up combination.

“Take off your jacket,” I said.

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