Damn him.
“I could always get a restraining order, you know?”
“You could.” The bastard smirked. “But we both know you won’t. You wanna know why?” The audacity of this guy.
“Why?” I rolled my eyes, dropping the bag on the floor.
“Because you miss me as much as I miss you. I know you’re angry with me. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but we don’t have to talk in order to spend time together.”
“That’s bullshit, Noah.” I hated that he actually had a point.
“Maybe, but it’s the only option I have right now.”
“You couldn’t have waited until we were at school so that you could, I don’t know, stand next to me or some shit like that?”
“Oh no, because Bianca would most probably kill me if I even looked at you there.” He did have a point. “Besides, this way you won’t be able to escape.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Andy is picking—”
“He’s not.” I could see him fighting the smug grin that was threatening to overtake his face, but he was failing.
“What do you mean?” My eye was already twitching, knowing where this conversation would lead. “Andy isn’t coming?”
“Nope.” He closed the door of his car and slowly came closer to me. God, even at this distance he towered over me, making me much smaller than I was. “You’re stuck with me, Soph, whether you like it or not.”
I was going to kill Andy, or my mom, or both of them. Suffocate them during the night, something, anything, because I knew what this meant.
Noah wasn’t giving up, and I secretly loved it.
“Fine.” I huffed, too tired to fight with him. “But no talking, Noah. I swear to God, I don’t have enough power left in my body to talk to you.”
“Okay. That’s okay. I just wanna take you home.” And I wanted to rip out my own heart, because it suddenly remembered how much we loved him.
Stupid, stupid heart.
Didn’t it know that he almost destroyed us once? Didn’t it know that no matter how much I loved the cerulean color of his eyes, I would never be able to call him mine?
And I shouldn’t, especially not now. Maybe it was for the best what happened three months ago. Maybe this way I could save him from the heartache later.
I picked up my bag and walked toward the car, ignoring the burning on the back of my neck from his stare. As soon as I slid inside, the smell of him enveloped me in the familiar hug—like cinnamon, coffee, and late autumn nights. I hated that my eyes immediately sought him, still standing there in front of the car, looking at the sky.
I hated that I actually wanted to tell him all about my day, and about what was happening lately.
I hated and loved that he was trying to fix this thing between us, when I would’ve been glad to know that he moved on with his life, forgetting everything about me. Because this, whatever he’d been trying to do, had an expiration date. I didn’t want him to be yet another person with tears in his eyes where stars used to be.
After a minute, or maybe even longer, he slid inside, while I leaned to the side, pressing my forehead against the cold glass of the window, ignoring the fact that the tips of my fingers tingled from the need to touch him. I crossed my arms across my chest and closed my eyes, pushing myself to think about anything else but him.
“Soph,” he started softly, almost apologetically. “I really am sorry, you know?”
“I do, Noah. I do.”
“Do you think that you would ever be able to forgive me?”
A question with a million possible answers, yet only one bounced back and forth inside my head. I forgave him a long time ago, but it didn’t matter anymore. It was best to keep things on the down-low with him. It was much better for him.
“Just drive, Noah. I wanna go home,” I murmured instead, avoiding his question.
But that was what I did the best, wasn’t it? Avoiding things I didn’t want to think about.
