Page 86 of City of Love
Oh, no. Is this a dream? Am I dreaming?
“It’s all right,” he whispers, pulling me close, his arms almost painfully tight around me. “You’re not dreaming. I’m here. Shh, sweetheart—you’re all right.”
It’s only then that I realize I’m crying, the tears coursing down my cheeks. Despite the words Noel whispers and the way he strokes my hair, I can’t seem to stop them. So I just cling more tightly to him, letting out all the hurt and sadness and anger and—
Wait a minute. The anger! I’m mad at him!
I pull back, pushing on his chest a little.
“Wait,” I say, wiping my eyes and frowning at him. “No. I’m supposed to be angry at you. Iamangry at you.”
“So am I,” Ian says from behind me, and I whirl around.
I definitely forgot he was there. Jade is standing an awkward distance away from him, and Cohen is walking down the stairs now too. So I guess Noel gets the full welcoming committee. All we need is Mina.
“Hey, I’m Noel,” Noel says, stepping out from behind me and holding a hand out for Ian to shake. It’s a gesture that’s optimistic to the point of foolishness, because Ian looks like he’d love nothing more than to punch Noel, but I give him major points for bravery.
Ian just stares at Noel, and I can see them sizing each other up. While all that male posturing is going on, I glance at Jade and Cohen. Jade is just glaring at Ian with annoyance, and Cohen is looking between me and Noel with uncertainty—like he’s unsure what his brotherly duties demand of him in this situation. Then he glances to Ian, seemingly noting the rigid stance and thunderous eyes, and adopts his own marginally stern expression.
Bless his soul. He tries.
I’m just glad he’s not partaking in the testosterone-fest going on here. Noel’s hand is still outstretched, and Ian is still glaring at it.
“Good grief,” Jade finally says, rolling her eyes. “Ian, you’re dysfunctional.” She sweeps in between Ian and Noel, muttering something under her breath about the Alexander men. “Come on,” she says. “Ian and Cohen, out.”
Cohen listens, but Ian doesn’t.
“I’m not leaving them alone, Jay,” he says angrily, and my eyebrows shoot up.
That’sa nickname I haven’t heard before.
And apparently Jade wants to keep it that way. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps. She waves her arms at him, trying to herd him out of the room, but it does nothing. A second later she resorts to pushing instead, spinning Ian around and planting both hands on his back. She shoves him with all the force her five-foot-nothing frame can manage. At this point Ian stops resisting, craning his head around and watching her, almost as though he’s mildly interested to see what this tiny person can accomplish with someone of his size.
If your best friend wouldn’t forcibly remove your brother from the room so that you can have some privacy with your man, is she even really your best friend? Plus she said things are super awkward with Ian now, and she did it anyway.
I love that girl.
“If you guys are good here,” she says over her shoulder, still pushing on Ian, “I’m going to head out. Call me later,” she tells me, and I nod.
My brain can’t seem to decide if it wants to soak up every detail of Noel’s appearance or if it wants to shy away, but once the foyer is emptied of everyone else, I have no choice but to look at him.
“What are you doing here?” I say finally into the waiting silence. “Why did you come?” I don’t mention that he’s supposed to be giving me space, letting me move on, but I know he understands anyway. He always understands the things I don’t say.
“You reported Marcus.” It’s not a question.
I nod slowly. “Yes,” I say, tilting my head curiously. Did he really come all this way to talk about Marcus?
He starts to move, like he’s going to step closer to me, before stopping himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets instead, and the stance looks strange on him.
Like my mind thinks that when he’s standing this close, his hands should be on me—holding me, tucking my hair behind my ears, resting on my shoulders. Just not in his pockets.
“And how do you feel?” he says. His arms twitch, and once again I can tell that he’s repressing his instinct to touch me.
I take a deep breath and then exhale loudly. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” I say. My bravado comes off weak. Maybe that should be embarrassing, but it’s not. Not with Noel. “I feel like crap,” I admit, crossing my arms over my chest. “I felt great at first, but…”
“But I made it worse,” he says hoarsely. “Because I made you feel like I didn’t want you.”
I almost gasp at the words, at the force of the hurt they conjure. I try to hide my reaction, but I know he sees, because he flinches.
