Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
He cuts his stare, his gaze lifting skyward, his jaw clenching, and when he looks at me, his expression is all hard lines and torment. “I know,” is all he says, and then he’s releasing me, stepping out of the shower.
He grabs a towel and hands it to me and then wraps another one around his waist. There’s something going on that I don’t know, which is really a stupid thought. There’s a lot going on that I don’t know, but right now, what I care about is whatever it is that just made Noah pull away from me.
I wrap the towel around myself, and by the time I’m out of the shower, Noah has both hands pressed to the sink, his chin on his chest. Whatever is wrong is big. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to tell me. Dread fills me. His silence stretches out, and all those thoughts I had about trust and us and no longer denying how much I love him seem to mock me.
“Noah,” I whisper. “Talk to me. I need you to talk to me.”
He pushes off the counter and turns to face me. “I’m not Noah. You need to figure that out and do it now.” And with that contradiction to what he just said in the shower, he walks out of the bathroom. Angry. He’s angry with me, and now I’m angry. I pursue him; I’m done with secrets and lies. It all ends here and now.
Chapter sixteen
Ashley
Idon’t know what just happened to set him off, but I can guess that being attacked back there by that cabin has something to do with it. He’s on edge and pushing me away, just as he had momentarily done during that snowstorm. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. Needing some semblance of control I search for clothes, scavenging a couple of shopping bags. I find options, lots of options because this man knows me. I know him, too, I tell myself. I pull on jeans, a tee, and Converse, brushing my hair and that’s all the patience I have. He is making me crazy.
I charge after Noah, or Aaron, or whatever the heck I’m supposed to call him at present, I round the corner and bring the room into view. And Lord help me, he gives me his back as he drops his towel, his perfect backside now gaining my full attention. My God, this is an unfair play, which sums up everything with this man.
He starts pulling on his pants, sans any damn underwear.
“You’re killing me,” I hiss. “Everything about you is killing me.”
He whirls around to face me, his hair around his handsome face somehow accenting the anger in his eyes. “I’m keeping you alive.”
“I wouldn’t need to be kept alive if you wouldn’t have—”
“Come into your life?”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean that. I’m emotional, and it just came out.”
“Because it’s what’s in your head.” He snatches a shirt up. “I’m crystal clear on that point, but I did and that means you need to stop fucking calling me Noah.” He pulls the shirt over his head. “That name can get us both killed.”
I swallow hard with the harshness of his tone. “Then you shouldn’t have told me—”
“I get it,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, Ashley, but I did. Burying me in your hate in this room doesn’t help me make sure we don’t both end up buried somewhere else.”
“Do you want me to hate you?”
“We’ve had this discussion. No, I don’t fucking want you to hate me, Ashley.”
“Then stop acting like a dick. I get it. You’re worried. You blame yourself for all of this, but I don’t. I knew what you were. I felt it. I liked it. And don’t ask me to explain that right now. Right now, I just need to know where I am and how I got here.”
He studies me several long beats, his expression unreadable, but the air is thick, the charge between us crackling. “One of the assholes who attacked us hit you on the head. I killed them all and brought you here, to New York City.”
He killed them all. I swear he speaks those words like he’s baiting me, pushing me, trying to get a reaction. I don’t give it to him. I focus on our location. “Back to where this all started, back to where I was forced into protection. I assume that’s to find out how and who started it all. What now?”
He doesn’t pop out an answer. He scrubs his jaw and turns away, pressing his hands to the wall. Seconds tick by and then stretch to a full minute.
“Aaron?” I prod softly.
He pushes off the wall and faces me. “What now? I get you out of this.”