Page 145 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

At least I wasn’t alone with my wavering faith.

“I’ve always had a fascination with celestial objects,” he said. “Shooting stars in particular. The few times that I had been lucky enough to see one, it always reminded me of you.” Noah brushed back a strand of my hair, hiding a bittersweet smile. The haunting sadness in his eyes made me want to reach out and hold him.

Just when I thought he’d close the gap between our lips, he pulled back and reclined in his seat.

“Lean your seat back.”

It was an order, and I obeyed. I took off my heels, turned on my side, and hugged my knees to my chest. Noah was resting on his back, staring up at the sky with his hands folded behind his head. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was just too handsome. We were lost in thought, listening to music and enjoying the romantic ambiance around us. I blushed when he slowly turned his head and looked at me. Obviously, he’d felt my eyes on him.

“You’re gawking,” he said.

“I’m gazing.”

“Are you that obsessed with my profile?”

“We’ve already established the fact that you have a very attractive profile. But to be honest, I think I’m obsessed with many things about you, even the undiscovered parts.”

His laughter made me smile as I imagined the sound waves traveling up into the universe, pleasing whatever celestial goddesses that resided within the stars. Maybe they would gather their energies in prayer and ask God to clear the clouds, just to give them the viewing pleasure of watching over this angel—this heartthrob who was sitting right next to me.

If I were a star, and if God truly existed, then that’s what I would want: to watch Noah every night.

“What am I going to do with you, Aria?”

“Anything you want.”

“You shouldn’t encourage me.” His heated gaze met mine.

“It’s not my fault you bring out the naughty in me.”

“Do you always have a ready answer prepared in that pretty little head?”

“No, but …” I paused briefly. “Should I prepare myself for a broodingNoah momentany time soon?”

“I’m always brooding.” He leaned forward and shuffled through some tracks on the stereo. There was a drastic change in the musical genre we were listening to: It went from chillstep to hip hop.

“Wow, since when do you listen to J. Cole?”

“You already know I have eclectic taste in music.” He smirked.

“Evidently.”

I watched him relax into his seat, folding his hands behind his head once more.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I guarantee, I’m really not that much of a mystery.”

Oh, but you are, and I so want to solve you.

The song played on and I was shocked that he listened to such explicit lyrics. “Please tell me you know what he’s rapping about.”

He raised himself on an elbow and looked at me. “I’m thirty-three, Aria, not sixty-three. Trust me, I know exactly what he’s saying. I can rap you the entire song if you want.” His smile was confident.

“Yes! Do it!”

Noah began to nod his head in rhythm with the beat, waiting for Miguel to finish the chorus. Once J began to spit the second verse, he started rapping along to “Power Trip.”

“Oh—my—God!” I laughed. “You’re amazing!” I was unbelievably shocked. He totally killed it. “Okay, you’ve got some serious swag. It’s official.” His flow was flawless.

“Is that so?” Noah chuckled.

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