Page 17 of Don't Make Promises
My voice is hoarse when I reply, “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Noah reaches out his hand, freezing mid air as if he’s realized his mistake. He drops his arm and a flame of frustration sparks behind his eyes, before he blinks and it’s gone. “Don’t lie to me, Savannah.”
Who does he think he is?
I shove his arm as my anger flares, forcing him to take a step back. “Leave me alone, Noah. I…” The weight of the day and his sympathy—which I don’t want or need—has me choking on a sob. Hurtful words spill from my lips like poison. “I don’t need you. You don’t need to pretend that you care about me. Despite what Jack might have said, you aren’t my brother.”
Racing up the stairs, I barrel through the door of my bedroom, slamming it shut behind me. I throw myself on the bed as sobs wrack my body and I let go. My cries are muffled by the comforter, but to my ears, they’re loud and gut wrenching.
“Go away,” I shout into the mattress at the sound of my door opening.
Whoever it is ignores me.
Can’t I cry alone?
The bed dips under their weight and when he touches me, I know it’s Noah. His hand rubs soothing circles on my back as he asks softly, “What’s wrong?”
Shrugging him away, I sit up, rubbing my face. Scooting to the head of the bed, I hug my knees to my chest as we stare at each other.
He’s waiting expectantly for my answer, and I want to tell him so bad, to get it off my chest. But I can’t. He probably agrees with what Johnny said and I don’t think I could handle that.
When I can’t take the silence any longer, I ask, “What do you want?”
Noah smooths his hand over the comforter, a calmness filling him as his shoulders relax. “Despite what you might think, Savannah, I do care about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I need space.
Moving to the edge of the bed, I stand, pushing down the fabric of my dress. Noah tugs on my hand, and I freeze as a spark of electricity spreads through my skin where he’s touching me.
His thumb rubs small circles across my knuckles and we both watch, fascinated by the movement.
My voice is a husky warning when I say, “Noah.”
He looks up at me with wide eyes as if he’s just realized where he is and what he’s doing. He blinks once, twice, three times, before he seems to come to his senses and drops my hand.
I take two steps back when he stands quickly, towering over me. “If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, then I’ll tell Jack and see if you’ll open up to him.”
He wouldn't.
But he would.
My mind is trying to think of a way out of it but I’m coming up empty.
When I come to the realization that I have no choice, I cross my arms over my waist, hugging my torso as I drag in a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, I reply, “You don’t need to tell Jack. I overheard someone I’m in a play with at school talking about me and, well, he wasn’t very nice. And what makes it worse is we both got the leads and have a lot of scenes together.”
Noah pulls me into a hug, his masculine spicy and vanilla-like scent enveloping me. I pull in deep breath after deep breath, luxuriating in the comfort he’s offering.
There’s a calmness to his voice as he asks, “Who was it, and what did they say?”
I pull away, my gaze searching his face. There’s no hesitation when I reply, “I’m not telling you.”
His hands move to rest on the top of my arms and he squeezes them softly. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
“How would you knowing help?”
Noah looks away, rubbing his hand over his jaw before he returns his gaze to me and says, “I will help him to understand what he can and can’t say about you.”
Rubbing my arms, I move back to my bed, flopping onto the mattress as I laugh. “Right. And then I’ll be a pariah in school. No, thank you. I’ll handle this myself. He’ll regret his words more than you can even begin to imagine.”