Page 90 of Don't Make Promises
Do I mean that?
Folding my arms over my chest, I turn to face him, coming up short at his proximity. The space between us is practically nonexistent and I fight against the rising tide of arousal that being near him always seems to crest when he’s near.
I should take a step back. Move to the other side of the room. Yes. If my feet would just move, that’s exactly what I’d do. Pulling in short sharp breaths through my mouth, my brain tells my body to move. Nothing happens.
His voice is tortured, as if he too feels whatever is happening right now. My name a plea on his lips, “Savannah.”
When I tip my head back to look at him, his gaze drops to my mouth.I think he might kiss me.
Noah lifts his hand, smoothing his fingers down my cheek. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful. These aren’t like the guys you’re used to hanging out with.”
A groove forms between my brows as his words register. There he goes, dousing me in a metaphorical bucket of ice cold water. Pain settles in my chest and I sink into the feeling. I allow it to consume me and fuel my anger.
My anger at him for saying what he said a year ago. For making me feel like I wasn’t good enough and that everything that had passed between us was just my imagination. Anger that he thinks he has any say in who I talk to, flirt with, or even have sex with.
Pulling in a breath, I blow it out slowly, soothing myself so I don’t scream at him. My words come out calm and calculated as I say, “Despite what you might think, Noah, you aren’t my brother or my father. I’m twenty years old. I can fuck whoever I want. And I don’t appreciate you draggin’ me away from someone who was darn right willin’ to satisfy my needs when you have no intention of doing so.”
When he doesn’t answer, I tilt my head and look him up and down. Still nothing. He just looks angry.
“Have a good night, Noah. I know I certainly will.” I throw a wink at him as I go to move past him toward the door.
His arm darts out and his hand lands on my hip, stopping my movement. Goosebumps form on my skin from his touch. His voice is a low growl when he says, “This is the sort of shit that pisses me off about you, Savannah.”
I take a step back, folding my arms over my chest. “And what might that be?”
“I’m trying to look out for you and you’re throwing it back in my face.”
Fury clouds my vision and I poke him in the chest. Undeterred by the party happening on the other side of the door, I shout, “I don’t need you to look out for me. Or try to be my friend.”
Noah grabs a hold of my wrist, holding it above my head as he backs me up. The air leaves me in a rush as I hit the wall. My startled gaze lifts to his.
Dipping down, he rests his forehead on mine, “Fucking hell, angel, I don’t want to be your friend. I want—”
He’s cut off when the bedroom door swings open. I’ve never seen Noah move as fast as he does when he realizes it’s Jack on the threshold.
I can’t get a read on Jack’s expression, the light behind him obscures his face. His voice gruff, almost chastising as he asks, “What’s going on in here?”
Leaning against the wall, I try to catch my breath. My mind is stuck on what might have happened had Jack not stormed in.
Noah scrubs his hand over the back of his neck, sheepishly he replies, “I was just warning Van about O’Donnell.”
Skepticism coats Jack’s words as he says, “Right. You definitely weren’t doing anything else with my sister.”
Not bothering to wait for whatever excuse Noah will give, I push away from the wall and walk from the room to find O’Donnell, determined to have fun.
And maybe spite Noah.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Savannah
I’m homesick.
It’s been thirty one days since I last saw Noah Parker and I miss him like I miss my mama’s chicken ‘n dumplin’s. But I miss him more.
He’s been a distraction of the best but worst kind. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t been able to throw myself into a workshop and give it my all. I haven’t been sleeping, my body feels like it’s been repeatedly run over by a truck, and worst of all, I haven’t been eating properly. Nothing seems to make sense without him.
Of course, we’ve been texting and calling where we can, but it just isn’t the same. And it hasn’t been as often as I would like due to my unrelenting schedule. Each time we do talk, he seems just as sad as I am about the distance that’s grown between us.