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“But you can. Don’t you see that? Jack would understand. Thirteen years is a long time to hold you to a promise.”
I rest my forehead on hers, closing my eyes. My words a whispered plea, “Angel, I just need more time.”
When I open my eyes, I find Savannah’s closed, a sad smile on her face. Her hands reach up to hold my wrists before she pulls them away and steps out of my reach. The sense of loss engulfs me, pulling me deeper into despair.
“And I could do with some space. I’m going to sleep in my room tonight. Like I said, it seems the timing of my workshop was just right.”
She steps forward and presses a soft kiss to my cheek before walking out of the room. I want to scream at her that this is her room. That her place is withme. But my words are stuck in my throat, refusing to come out. Instead, I watch as she walks away from me.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Savannah
SEVEN YEARS AGO
It was a mistake to come tonight. I’ve been visiting Jack this weekend and, for the most part, I’ve managed to avoid seeing Noah. Jack sprung it on me last minute that he’s throwing a party tonight, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show Noah what he’s missing out on. And although I feel sexy and confident, my stomach still twists at the sight of him.
If I’d listened to my gut when it told me to not go out tonight, I wouldn’t be staring at Noah as he dusts kisses over the neck of the girl he came with.
She’s real pretty too.
Soft features, dark hair and a slender body. She’s everything I’m not.
Maybe this is what I needed. To see him with someone else. To really hammer home that he meant what he said last year. That I’m not his type. I made a mistake thinking he would ever be interested in a girl like me. Sorry, akidlike me.
Ever since the pool house incident last year, Noah and I have grown distant. I’ve avoided him whenever we’ve been at the same thing, which has been on less than a handful of occasions. I don’t plan on changing that now. Especially when, thinking back on the incident, embarrassment, anger, and shame are the only things I feel.
Well, screw you, Noah Parker.
I look darn good and I’m not going to mope around after a guy who’s too stupid to see what a catch I am.
Spinning on my heel, my drink splashes out over the rim of my cup when I collide with a solid, very male, body.
My hands dart out, brushing at the liquid as it seeps into his t-shirt. It’s only when a deep chuckle vibrates the stomach under my hand that I realize I’m basically feeling up a stranger. It’s a very flat and defined stomach.
“You know, if you wanted to touch me, you didn’t need to spill a drink on me, gorgeous. For a pretty girl like you, well, you can touch me anywhere you like.”
An idea forms and my hand reaches out and under his shirt before I can stop myself. I look up into his light brown eyes from under my lashes. He’s a good looking guy, a straight nose and full lips snag my attention. With a height that reminds me of Noah and an athletic build that tells me he looks after himself, if I wasn’t set on using him for a one night stand, he’d be a catch. “I can touch you here?”
His hand reaches out and lands on my hip, squeezing as he flexes his fingers. “Yes,” he grunts.
Moving my hand lower, I rest it on the buckle of his belt as I press my chest into his. Whispering, I ask, “How about here?”
An arm wraps around my bicep and I’m tugged away from the stranger. A sultry smirk covers my lips as I look at his confused expression. Tingles erupt from the contact, traveling through my body until I feel energized and aroused.
I know exactly who’s grabbed hold of me.
I will myself to feel nothing.
It’s all in my head.
None of it is real.
Noah opens the door to Jack’s bedroom, all but throwing me inside. My eyes scan the dark room, grateful that Jack isn’t in here. When I think about it, it’s kinda surprising that he isn’t, given he’s been making out with the same girl for the last hour.Eww, not an image I need to bring to mind ever again.
Noah’s voice holds a warning as he says, “Angel.”
An involuntary jerk wracks through my body. I hate that nickname. And the fact that he’s using it, rubbing salt in my wounds, makes me hate him more.
