“Oh, God.” I gripped the arm of the couch, letting my tears fall. I couldn’t bear the pain escaping me in horrific sobs.
I gasped as strong arms closed around me. Noah.
“Shh. Don’t cry.” He twisted me away from the sofa and pulled me into his arms.
“How did you get in here?”
“You forgot to lock the door.”
“Get out.” I didn’t want him to see me like this. “You’re breaking and entering again.”
“I’ll let you use my phone to call the cops.” He brushed the hair away from my face and pressed his lips to my temple. “Try to breathe, Avery. You’re going to hyperventilate if you don’t calm down.”
I sucked in a jagged breath. Defeated, I let him hold me. “I can’t fight anymore, Noah. You win.”
“I didn’t win.” He lowered to the couch, pulling me onto his lap. “We both lost.”
The agony I’d kept bottled up for the past few weeks erupted out of me like boiling lava. “I wish I could be normal for you.”
“You are normal. You just have a terrible job.”
“My job pays for college.”
“I know, but what does it cost you in the end? I’m falling in love with you, Avery. Hell, I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you get on that elevator. I want to be with you, and I don’t want to share. If you’d just open up to me a little, I could help you.”
My face pressed to his shoulder, his familiar scent seeping into my lungs and calming me. “I don’t want you to know any of that.”
“Any of what?”
“Anything about the girl I used to be. I just want you to see the good stuff.”
“Why can’t I see both? I’m not an asshole, Avery. But you make this part of you a deception. You hide it until your secrecy is all I can see. If you just were upfront with me about the bad stuff, it wouldn’t matter so much. And I’d never lose sight of all the good.”
Fear twisted in my chest, wringing a sharp whimper from my throat. “My real name’s Avery Dean Mudd. I grew up in a dirt poor trailer park with an abusive, alcoholic mother, and I don’t know who my father is.”
His hand brushed over my hair, holding me close. “None of that’s your fault, and I’d never judge you for where you came from.”
“But you don’t understand what it was like. You came from this picture perfect home with a mom and a dad. Your family had money, and you’ve grown up with so many opportunities.”
“I can’t help that. I’m sorry it wasn’t as easy for you.”
My words tangled in my throat. “Everything I am is fake. And when I let my guard down and show people the real me, they see nothing but problems.”
“No, sweetie. You’re wrong.”
“I tried to let you in, and you called me a scorpion.”
“I was angry. I saw another man kissing you, and I lost it. I wanted to hurt you.”
“You succeeded.”
He pulled me so I straddled him and cupped my cheeks so I’d look him in the eyes. “You are not a scorpion. It was an asshole thing to say, and I didn’t mean it.”
Leaning forward, he tried to kiss me, and I turned away, my face scrunching tight. “You have someone else’s lipstick on your lips.”
He hissed out a curse. “That was a mistake.”
“Did she like her flower?” Maybe if I made light of him dating other women, it wouldn’t feel like a dull, rusty blade was gutting me.
“What?”
“The rose you had when you left tonight.”
“Ah.” He let out a deep breath. “I didn’t have the guts to give it to her, so I left it by her mailbox.”
Yeah, I couldn’t discuss this with him. “Oh.” I pushed off of his lap.
“Where are you going?”
“I need a glass of water.”
He let me up, and I went to the kitchen. As I turned to ask if he wanted anything, he lifted Micah’s half full glass of wine.
“What does he want from you, Avery? Why does he have such a hold on you?”
He didn’t have to clarify who he was. Carrying my glass of water back to the den, I lowered myself to the empty seat. “He wants a relationship with me, but I can’t give him what he wants.”
His expression was unreadable. “Because of a control thing?”
“No, because of a love thing. I don’t love Micah that way, and I doubt I ever could.”
Noah’s Nordic eyes lifted, and he stared across the table at me. “You have no fucking idea how glad I am to hear that.”
“I’m indebted to him, Noah. This apartment, these clothes, my books… The others pay my bills, but Micah supports me. I’d never have made it this far without him.”
“Bullshit. Did he ever offer to set you up with a financial advisor, Avery? Someone who could help you figure out an ordinary student loan and maybe educate you about student housing? He wanted you to believe he was not only your best option but your only option. With your background, you might not have known better, but he did, and he took advantage of you anyway.”
“He’s been more than generous—”
“Stop.” He held up a hand. “You’re never going to sway me. When I say I don’t like the way you make a living, what I mean is I really fucking hate your job. Really.”
“I swear it’s just business.”
“To you maybe, but not to them. You’re their fantasy. I see how they look at you. I watch them try to touch you. Micah point blank told you.” He turned out his palms. “Maybe a stronger man could handle it, but I can’t. I’m territorial for good reason. My ex left me for my best friend. I swore, the next time I fell in love with someone, I’d make sure she fully belonged to me. All this time I’ve been single because I didn’t see anyone I wanted that much, but then I met you, and I wanted you every second since.”
“You want me?”
“Yes, I fucking want you.”
“Still?”
He hesitated. “I want to know you’re mine and mine alone. I can’t fucking share you, Avery.”
I placed my glass on the table. “How would that work, if I was yours?”
“What do you mean? We’d be in a relationship. No other women and no other men. None. We would be a normal couple.”
“Normal.” I tasted the word, my mind calculating the time needed for student teaching and the money I’d need to rent a new place. “I… I’d have to move.”
“That makes two of us.”
“What?”
“If you think I’m going to pay that fucking asshole rent, you’re crazy. I’ve been looking for a new place for weeks.”
He was leaving? I immediately knew I wouldn’t be able to afford to live wherever he moved. “How far will you be?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple gliding beneath the pale stubble on his throat. “You could come with me.”
“I can’t afford it.”
“You could once you started teaching.”
“That won’t be until September, Noah.”