Page 29 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

This man is a god. Kill me now, please. Those were my final thoughts.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ARIA

Ho. Ly. Crap. My jaw was almost hanging open when I saw Noah unbuttoning his shirt in front of me. I needed a bucket for my drool. Okay, I was exaggerating a bit there, but his body was so …yum. He walked past me while unfastening the last button, and I guarantee that I saw enough to make me swoon. This man had a serious six-pack. I think there was a tattoo on his chest, but the front fabric of his shirt was covering it.

“I’m just going to change out of this shirt!” he hollered from the bedroom. “Pick a movie you want to watch. I’ve got Netflix!”

It was difficult to focus on finding a film when all I could think about was his somewhat naked body.

He returned after a short while, dressed in a black undershirt and faded blue jeans that hung loosely below his waist—minus a belt. Noah had the most amazing body I had ever seen. Oh-dear-Lord, if I was allowed to fan myself to keep from fainting, I would have. His arms were toned, his shoulders sculpted, and I was jealous of his golden skin. That tank top he was wearing accentuated his midsection like an inverted triangle. And I swear I was able to see the dented grooves of his abdominal muscles through his shirt. It was the first time I’d seen him dressed so casually. He looked like someone I could have met at a bar or at college; someone I would have been attracted to. Had I met him that way, I definitely would have done something to catch his interest. But unfortunately, we weren’t under those circumstances. Noah was my dad. He was attractive, successful, and smolderingly sweet. But nonetheless, he was my father. It was difficult to ignore the flashing signs around him that read “Unavailable. Keep away.”

A part of me wanted to give in to reasonable doubt and suggest we get a paternity test done. (You know … just to be sure I was really his.) Was I implying that my mother was a slut? No, of course not. Although, I would have gladly forgiven her if I didn’t end up being Noah’s biological daughter.

Then I can have my happily ever after, maybe? A girl can dream.I sighed.

“Did you pick a film, angel?”

I had to close my eyes and secretly enjoy the experience of smelling his cologne. Yes, it was an experience: it took me to places in my head that I could not describe with words.

That’s it. I’m going to ask him.And I planned to make it sound as normal and innocent as possible. No ulterior motive. Nope.

“What kind of cologne do you have on?”

Well, that was straight to the point, wasn’t it?Great job on subtlety, Aria. Not!I silently scolded myself.

“Why?” He turned in my direction. “Is it too strong? Are you getting a headache?”

“What?” I screwed up my face, shaking my head. “No! I love the smell!”

Yeah …That sounded way too enthusiastic.

“That’s a relief. It’s Play by Givenchy.”

I knew it!

“Why would you think it would give me a headache?”

“Vanessa is sensitive to cologne and perfume fragrances. She gets headaches if I wear certain brands, so I thought maybe you’re the same.”

Well, I’m sorry, Noah, but she is nuts. You smell like Heaven.And apparently my idea of Heaven smelled like a manufactured cologne. I could’ve pitched a great idea for the next Givenchy ad campaign.

He sat down on the sofa across from the television and played the film I had randomly chosen.

“The Dark Knight Rises. Haven’t seen that one yet,” he said. “Nice choice—I’m a fan of the films. By the way, before I forget, do you want any popcorn or anything?”

“No, I’m still stuffed from dinner.” I sat down next to him.

“Okay, just making sure.”

There was a bit of a gap between us, and I secretly prayed he would pull me in and cuddle me. Resorting to more subtle methods, I rubbed my arms a bit and hoped he’d notice.

“Are you cold?” Noah asked. “Come here.”

Thank you, God for miraculously answering my prayers!

I scooted in closer as he lifted his right arm and rested it along the top edge of the sofa. I was nervous and my heart rate was accelerating by the second. Being around him made me feel like I was on a never-ending roller coaster. You know that nervous feeling you get when you’re on a scary thrill ride? You reach the top and you’re waiting, anticipating the free fall where you either (a) scream your lungs out, (b) close your eyes and breathe it out to the verge of hyperventilation, or (c) just look down and stay silent because you pretty much go into shock. Well, for me it was all of the above—that’s how he made me feel. But at that moment, I was totally doing option (a) in my head. Screw going to an amusement park!

---