Page 93 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

“Are you trying to kill my social life or something?”

He frowned. “I’m trying to talk to you, but you’re being impossible.”

How could he not realize he was hurting me? “I’m never letting you in again.” I began to back away from him.

“Aria, please …” He stepped forward and grabbed my arm.

“You were begging me not to push you away last night,” I said, “and here you are doing exactly that.”

Why do I have to be so freaking sensitive?

“I’m not, I told you earlier I’m just stressed out because of work.”

“That’s a damn lie!”

“No, it’s not.” He tried to sound gentle, but there was a raging undertone in his voice that betrayed his calm composure. “What are you, a professional polygraph examiner all of a sudden?”

Ouch. I avoided his eyes and stared at a red Mustang parked across from us.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

I unwillingly turned my head and faced him. His cheeks were slightly flush, which was rare. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the humidity or due to the obvious fact that he was trying really hard to hold back his volcanic temper. I began to visualize the glowing, molten magma that was overflowing inside his head.

Look out for Drill Sergeant Hunter. Everyone stand at attention or he’ll rip you a new one.Well, he didn’t intimidate me, so I continued to ignore him.

“God damn it, Aria—” Without warning, he grabbed my shoulders, causing my schoolbag to slip down my arm. “What do you want from me?”

I stayed unresponsive.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight? Answer me!” he commanded in a harsh voice. His eyes were inflamed as they pierced right through me, setting my insides on fire. I felt like a medium, affected by psychic energies that made me shudder. I blamed him and the invisible waves of aggression that were coming off his body. To say that Noah was angry was an understatement.

“I’m not,” I finally replied. “I’m not trying to fight with you.” I kept my head down dolefully and prayed he would let go of my arms. A single tear fell down my cheek and I quickly tried to wipe it away. Luckily, it was enough to make him ease off on his domineering attitude. I sure hoped he felt like an asshole for upsetting me in public.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

I raised my head and mirrored the infuriated glare he’d given me ten seconds earlier. “I’m not crying!”

Silence … staring … more silence … and more staring.

He finally sighed and wrapped his arms around my body, forcing me into a hug. “I’m sorry if I seem distant,” Noah whispered in my ear. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

I was mad. I was livid. And I wanted to stay that way, except for the undeniable fact that it was so damn difficult to pretend to be an ice princess around him, especially when his body felt so warm and welcoming. He kissed the top of my head and soothed my stubborn pride with his gentle affection. In some ways, I hated it. It was hard to focus on any rational thought because his cologne and aftershave smelled so indescribably good. Noah was like a drug to me.

“Why do we have such a bipolar relationship?” I asked.

He looked at me for a moment, his perfect mouth curving sideways into a crooked smile.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe we’re both bipolar. It is hereditary, after all …”

I laughed with him and took immense comfort within the safety of his embrace. All my anger had magically disappeared as soon as he enveloped me in his arms.

Noah slowly withdrew and held my face. “I don’t want you going to class all upset because of me.”

This argument felt so pointless. Maybe I should have backed off. I was only feeling insecure because it hurt when he was so detached from me.

“I’m just afraid you’re pushing me away.” I looked into his eyes, desperately hoping that he understood my feelings without me having to explain them. My breathing slowed down, as he caressed the delicate line of my lower jaw with his thumb.

“Why would I push away the reason for my existence?” His gaze never left mine.

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