Page 30 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

“Aria, your arms are cold.”

“Yeah, but I’ll warm up.”

His body was like a heating pad, and he kept rubbing my arm, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin.

“Did you see the previous films?” His voice was relaxed and deep.

I bit my lip and tried to calm myself. Forcing a quick recovery from the whirlwind of emotions that were hitting me seemed near impossible. My senses were overpowering me all at once—sight, smell, hearing, touch. I didn’t know which one was most amplified.

“Yeah, I saw them, they were good. I love Christian Bale.”

“He’s a great actor. Is he your favorite?”

“Kevin Spacey’s my favorite.”

“Well, that’s unusual. I was expecting you to mention someone like DiCaprio.”

I laughed and tried to focus on the action sequence that was taking place on the TV screen. But it was a pointless effort. Building my bravery, I became bold enough to shift in closer and press my ear against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat. It was a slow drumming rhythm, echoing louder and louder in my ear, making my blood rush in my veins. I felt like I was in a blissful state of trance. Noah’s body had magical properties, and I was falling under a spell that I couldn’t seem to break. Was this a curse? Was I an abomination to the human race? Had God decided to punish me for being born out of wedlock to parents who were almost kids themselves when they procreated? Was God even on my side in this, or was I giving in to lustful temptations of the flesh? Temptations that Lucifer was whispering in my ear. Where do you even draw the line between good and evil in this situation? Had I gone so far off the spectrum of purity that I was corrupting my own innocence without even realizing it, without understanding that my desire for my father was strictly sin and nothing more? No, I didn’t want to believe that. I didn’t want to justify these feelings with explanations that would place a huge red stop sign in front of me. I didn’t want to see it. I wanted to ignore it and pretend the stop sign didn’t even exist, because those feelings, the way he affected me, made me feel more alive than ever. To take away those emotions and label them as wrong would be too heartbreaking—emotional suicide.

This moment here with him was incredible. We weren’t just cuddling.The physical contact was deeper and more meaningful than that. We were exchanging energy between each other to normalize and share a unified frequency. Our bodies were transferring heat: input, output, circulating as one. I felt like I was one with him.

“Wow, is that strawberry vanilla?” Noah leaned forward and sniffed my hair.

“Yeah, it’s the shampoo I use.”

“I love your hair. It’s so thick and shiny. You could always be a hair model on those Pantene Pro V commercials. Ever thought about that? Don’t even think about doing Herbal Essences.”

“Why not?”

“Because shampooing your hair is nowhere near an orgasmic experience.”

I laughed. For some reason, the idea of washing and rinsing his hair with any kind of shampoo got me somewhat hot and bothered.

“I prefer the runway,” I said.

“Okay, princess, it’s your dream.” He chuckled lightly and kissed my head.

Thirty minutes later, I mustered up the courage to snuggle closer to him and rest my hand on his chest. I was scared shitless making the attempt, but he didn’t flinch or reject my hand. Noah sat with his feet propped on the coffee table, and I was sure he was too distracted by the movie to even notice whatever advances I might make. There were so many things going through my mind. I was way too sidetracked by other thoughts to even watch the film. Regardless, I stared at the screen and pretended to pay attention.

Everything was going in one ear and out the other, as if I had programmed some kind of filter in my head that would register only his words, just in case he spoke. My ears had tuned out the surrounding audio, rejecting it and labeling it as insignificant. His voice and heartbeat were the only sounds I wanted to hear.

My chest suddenly felt heavy, and I wasn’t sure why. With every bit of affection that he gave, he left me craving more.

What do you want, Aria? Say it,my subconscious whispered. No, I wouldn’t say it. Not out loud, and not within the quiet confines of my mind.

“Oh man! That scene was awesome!”

Noah’s excited outburst startled me.

“Aw, I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He squeezed me in his arms and kissed my head again, moving a lazy hand up and down my arm. His fingertips lightly brushed against my skin, and the scent of his inebriating cologne teased my senses.Fingertips, heat, breathing, cologne, touch, smell, heat, desire, fingertips, skin, heat, skin, heat, skin, SEX.

My head was spinning. All thoughts came to a screeching halt the second my subconscious mind finally revealed what I was hiding. The truth was hidden within a drawer that contained a file labeled “DO NOT READ.” Fearlessly, I opened the folder and stumbled upon a horrifying truth: I wanted him, and I wanted him to want me.

It became crystal clear that I could never love him like a daughter. I had already proven that with my imaginary, hypothetical scale. It was only a matter of time before I flat-out admitted it to myself. There were only two possible outcomes to this tragic tale of love that I had been unexpectedly sucked into: I would win his heart, body, and soul, or I would repulse him and he would leave me forever. Abandonment had always been my biggest fear, but this was a risk I was willing to take because there was no way I could ever be happy being only a daughter to him. Eternal estrangement would be an acceptable fate if there was no happy ending for me. Call me selfish—I didn’t care. I had a right to be selfish for once in my life. My mind was made up. I gathered my strength and convinced myself that I had an ego tall enough to push me to make my next move.

Slowly but carefully, I leaned sideways and slumped my shoulder down his chest, past his stomach, until I was resting my head in his lap. I was freaking out but excited at the same time.

“Are you tired, sweetheart?”

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