“And which one am I?” she challenged.
The corners of his lips turned up. It was amazing how easily his expression slipped into warm and welcoming mode. He’d been all doom and gloom when he’d rushed into the alley, but that wasn’t Noah’s default.
He upped the smile-wattage and gave her a full-blown grin. Was he aware of how inviting he appeared? His smile said come closer and I’ll show you . . .
“How about we get you back into your bedroom so I can have a chat with Travis before work tonight?” He turned away from her and slid his superman-sized muscles out of the truck.
“I don’t need your help,” she said sharply as she slipped out of the passenger seat and slammed the truck door behind her. “I’m not your problem. Go home and work on your biceps.”
His eyes widened as if referencing any part of his body crossed an imaginary line drawn in her dad’s gravel driveway. Then he laughed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Is that what you think I do in my spare time?”
“Long days away from the bar at some mystery location . . .” She turned and headed for the back of the house. Her dad had taken her keys—house and car—when he’d grounded her, as if having a way back in and a vehicle were the only things keeping her from sneaking out. In a few weeks, she was heading to a school she’d fought her way into, one perfect grade at a time. She could find a way into town. And she knew how to phone a friend.
Of course, calling Travis for a ride and “conversation” didn’t exactly highlight her intelligence.
“My brother thinks you’re seeing someone,” she added as they reached the back door.
“I’m not. Not that it’s Dominic’s business, or yours, but I’ve been taking my grandmother to the coast,” he said, raising his right arm and placing his hand against the back of his neck. “She likes to see the ocean.”
Wow. Could he stand any taller on the pedestal of perfection? He spent his downtime taking his eighty-something-year-old grandmother, who’d raised him alongside his dad, to the beach.
Perfect and single. She filed that fact away. Not that it mattered. They were both leaving soon. And she didn’t plan on coming back to this town that seemed determined to ruin her.
“So how are you getting back in?” He lowered his arm and nodded to the house. “Need a boost in through a window?”
“Nah, I was using you for a ride. I left the back door to the kitchen unlocked and the dogs on guard.” She climbed the steps to the wooden deck her father had built ten or so years ago with her big brother’s help. Noah followed, avoiding the loose board no one had gotten around to fixing. He’d spent half his childhood and the years since his graduation at her house. Two guys, both raised by single dads who’d lost their wives suddenly—Noah’s to a car crash, and hers and Dominic’s to a sudden heart attack spurred by an underlying condition.
She’d been five when her mom died. And it had taken her a while to realize she wasn’t going to follow a similar path. Her father had tried to explain it wasn’t a genetic condition, but she’d been too young to comprehend how the person who’d cared for her around the clock just wasn’t there anymore. By high school, she’d had a better understanding of genetics.
His brow furrowed. “Sure you’re OK?”
No. Maybe. Yes? I’m just sad about the things I can’t change. And how the ones I tried to fix turned out. . .
“I’ll be fine.” She turned the knob and opened the back door. “I’ll see you around, Noah.”
She stepped inside the white and blue farmhouse kitchen and closed the door. Forever’s Golden Boy remained on the other side. She leaned against the solid wood, her hand still on the knob, and closed her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks. And she let herself feel . . . the lingering sting of Travis’s palm against her face, the scratches around her neck.
Goddamn him!
She let out a sob. Just thinking about that moment—the panic, the need for a strength she didn’t have—she never wanted to land in that place again. And if Noah hadn’t rushed to her rescue . . .
She would still be standing in the alley, terrified. It was one thing to knee Travis in the balls, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t have ended there. Discovery, Noah rushing to her rescue, had sent her now ex-boyfriend running. And even if her well-placed self-defense had pushed him away, it wouldn’t change the fact that she’d placed herself in that situation. She’d snuck out of the house with that face-slapping ass. She’d planned to tell him it was over. But she should have known her boyfriend of almost a year wouldn’t take it well. She’d witnessed his temper before.
So when it came to needing a rescue? That was on her.
“How did I land in this mess?” she whispered to the empty kitchen. But she already knew the answer. She hadn’t been strong enough to turn her back on the promise of acceptance and popularity. If she dated the quarterback, if she stayed with Travis after half the town caught her in the back of the hay wagon, if she proved to everyone that they were “in love,” not teenage lust, then maybe her family and everyone else in this town would see that she was more than a girl who made bad decisions. She could prove to everyone here that she was strong enough to endure the pointed looks and whispered comments.
But maybe, when it came to Forever, she should cut her losses and start fresh in Portland.
She raised her hands to her face and wiped away the tears. She would earn a degree in business management, start her own company, or take over someone else’s and run it better. She’d find a man who liked what he saw when he looked at her. A man who offered kindness. And if he happened to be blond, with a warm smile, and perfect biceps . . .
No. Not Noah. She couldn’t have him.
“Dominic would kill me, and Noah too,” she muttered as she pushed off the door and headed for the stairs. Even if her brother’s friend showed up on her doorstep and admitted he had a crush on her, he was still out of her reach—too perfect, too determined to do the right thing.
Chapter Three