It only takes a few steps for him to stalk over to me, invading my space. “Don’t walk around naked.” His hand wraps around my arm and he spins me to face him as he growls the words in my ear.
Pushing him off of me is a futile effort, I barely gain an inch of space. “I’m not naked.”
Dark eyes wander down to my bare legs. The hoodie covers most of my ass cheeks, the tops of my thighs, but the look on his face tells me he doesn’t care.
“I don’t want my friends seeing what’s mine.” The words come out deep and rough, the sound reverberating through me.
“Too late for that.” I yank my arm back, stumbling out of his grip. The look on his face only grows colder as he steps forward, coming after me. Rough hands push me back against the counter, pinning me there with his arms on either side of me.
“Mik,” he groans, pressing his hard body against mine. A hand threads through my hair, wrapping around the back of my skull, holding me in place.
“Noah,” I respond, trying my best to keep my voice even, an impossible task with his body so close to me.
He sucks in a breath, his dark eyes wandering my face. “You’re testing me,” he whispers.
I try to shake my head, try to give him a nonverbal answer but his grip is too tight, making it impossible for me to move. “Noah,” I whisper again. “Why am I here?”
His eyes close, for a mome
nt I think he’s sorry. I’m not sure which of his offenses he’s feeling guilty about, but his eyes have drifted closed, his mouth soft and tilted in a frown. He looks sad.
“Baby,” he drawls. “You belong here.”
“I don’t.” The response leaves my lips quickly. There are few things I’m sure about, but I know this: I’m not meant to be a Bancroft.
I can’t show the kind of cruelness that comes with the name.
He tilts his head, his eyes open and staring into mine. Dark brown meeting green.
“Noah, I have school, and a roommate who is probably wondering where I am. Not to mention my parents…” I trail off.
“I’ll take care of it,” he says matter of factly. There’s no arguing with Noah, everything with him is his way. He doesn’t see shades of gray or other options. Sometimes I wish I was so sure and confident in myself. In his world there are no obstacles because money can buy anything… anyone.
I wonder how easy life is when you have money and confidence—does anything bother you?
Surely not murder.
“Noah,” I mutter, dropping my gaze. “I can’t.”
His grip loosens and he pulls back. “Mik.” He looks different when he says my name this time, a part of his defense has dropped. “I need you to trust me, baby.” He leans in, our foreheads meeting.
My eyes drift closed and I lean into him.
How easy it would be to just let everything else drop away and let him take care of me. If I could just flip off a switch and let myself stop caring.
But then I think of her, bright hazel eyes and auburn hair. I can see her smiling up at me on a sunny day. Her laughter is infectious. My little sister.
She’s dead, and I can’t let myself be with her killer.
I pull back, further out of his grip. “Your friends took my phone yesterday. I need it back.”
He looks hurt, the sadness still in his eyes. He stares at me for a minute, as if he can’t believe I didn’t lean in and accept him. Like his pretty looks and sweet words should be enough to convince me.
“Sure,” he mutters, stepping back he rakes a hand through his already messy hair. He looks unshowered, wearing a pair of joggers and a white t-shirt with running shoes.
“What were you and Beckett doing?” I nod to the door.
“Why do you care what I do?” he asks, marching away from me and over to the cabinet in the corner.