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Noah was standing there, right next to the hood of her car. “I was calling you.”
She heaved a deep breath that failed to calm. “Why?” she yelled back.
He waved her closer, and she wondered if the sharp lines on his face were just the result of shadows thrown by the rain and the darkness. Finally, she moved closer. “Come up,” he said, gesturing to the building.
She shook her head. “It’s late.”
“Come up,” he said more insistently. He stepped off the curb into the puddle, closing the distance between them. His whole face was set into a frown. It wasn’t just the shadows.
“Noah—”
“Just come,” he said.
Was it possible he wanted to talk about what she’d texted him? The thought made her belly flip, and she found herself agreeing despite her concerns. “Fine.” She pushed around him, still carrying her shoes. Neither of them talking, Noah followed her up the steps to his door. He’d apparently left it unlocked, because he turned the knob and pushed it open, gesturing for her to go first. They were both dripping water all over the little square of slate tiles inside the door, which was exactly where she stayed lest she drag a trail of water all over his hardwoods.
Noah shut the door and turned on her, hands braced on his hips. Tension rolled off him, and Kristina was suddenly, totally, and completely sure coming up here had been a mistake.
“What?” she finally asked.
The ticking of the muscle on the side of his jaw wasn’t the only sign that he was wound tight. His shoulders were bunched. His brows slashed down. His eyes were on fire with anger and desire—or maybe she was only imagining the latter.
Kristina hugged herself against the chill of the air conditioning. “What, Noah?”
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He raked a hand through his wet hair and chuffed out a laugh that held no humor.
“For God’s sake. Say something.”
His gazed slashed to her face. “Did you screw him?”
She gasped. “What?”
“Just answer the question,” he said, his voice going stern. “Did you screw him?”
White hot anger ripped through her. “I don’t believe you,” she said. How could he ask her that after the text she’d sent? After they’d just slept together a few days ago?
He stepped right up in front of her. Even in his anger, he was freaking gorgeous. Just then, she hated him for that. “Answer the question, Kristina. It’s a simple yes or no.”
She threw out her hands and lost her temper. “What if I did? Why would you freaking care?”
Pressing his mouth into a grim line, Noah glared at her, his agitation nearly a physical presence between them.
Kristina blew out a long breath and shook her head. “You know what? I’m not doing this again.” She turned for the door.
Noah slammed his palm down flat against it, blocking her from opening it. His front was right up against her back, close enough to feel his rock-hard erection.
Her blood flashed hot despite the fight. “Move, Cortez. Now.”
“I can’t, Kristina,” he rasped in a tone so shattered that it suddenly put out the fire of her anger.
She turned inside the tight cage of his arm and his body, her heart a freight train in her chest.
He crouched down enough to look her eye to eye. “I. Can’t.”
“Stop fighting,” she whispered, licking at rain drops rolling over her lips.
Burning brown eyes tracked the movement. He stared at her until she was trembling, or maybe that was just the chill from how wet she was.
