I jump, but it’s Noah’s voice, not Jonah’s, and something about it is inherently comforting.
Still, I know better than to just trust him. Not after I was just threatened by the guy I should have been able to trust the most.
I take an automatic step back, into the calm surf, my toes digging into the wet sand out of sheer habit.
Noah winces, and it stuns me still for a moment. It’s as if my fear of him is so off-putting it makes him second-guess himself. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy; he wants to be the hero. And while I resent just the concept that I needed rescuing at all, I can’t very well blame him for it. I should have known better.
Noah shows me his palms in some kind of promise. It’s his way of distinguishing himself from Jonah, and I can’t help the guilt at making him think I could ever even compare the two of them. Especially not after tonight.
I shake my head in some kind of denial, but words won’t come.
Noah chews his full bottom lip as if mulling something over. He shakes his head, his eyes closing for the briefest of moments. “Liza, he can’t treat you like that. I won’t let him treat you like that. No one should ever lay a hand on you like that, or talk to you like that, and your boyfriend, of all people, should never—”
I cut him off. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Noah stares skeptically. “The guy you’re dating then,” he qualifies.
I shake my head again. “No, we’re done.” I shoot him a meaningful look. “I’m not some pathetic little girl,” I insist, “he’s never done anything like that before.” But I choke on my words, because I know they’re a lie. “He’s never gone that far before,” I correct.
Noah nods thoughtfully. “Well, that’s one way to break up,” he comments.
My eyes narrow. As if I wanted this. As if I would have ever asked for this.
“Are you saying it’s my fault?”
Noah grimaces, taken aback. “What?”
“You think I asked for this? That I wanted him to—”
“Fuck no,” Noah defends. He takes a step toward me, his clearly expensive sneakers dipping into the seawater, but he pays them no mind. He hunches his shoulders, lowering his head so that our gazes are on equal ground, and it’s entirely at odds with Jonah’s forced eye-contact of not just minutes before, but many times before that. “No, Liza. You were very fucking clear about what you asked for.”
My own words ring out in my mind: Please, let me go, Jonah!
Noah nods carefully at my understanding.
I swallow dryly through my sore, abused throat, trying to hide my wince, but I’m not sure Noah misses it. His expression softens, as if leaving Jonah and their physical altercation behind, and focusing on me, instead. There’s something about having the full focus of Noah Reed, his eyes holding mine captive in ways Jonah couldn’t achieve even with his hand around my neck.
But considering the night’s circumstances, I find myself ashamed by the fluttering in my belly... and lower.
“I was referring to your knee to his ‘nads,” Noah explains.
Huh?
My confusion must be obvious, because he elaborates. “I hope you don’t break up with all your boyfriends that way. I’m hurting just thinking about it.” The corner of his mouth slides cautiously into a half-smirk, and it takes me off guard.
My short laugh is so out of place after tonight that it comes out more like a snort, and I cover my face in embarrassment. But Noah’s soft chuckle is strangely, inexorably soothing to my soul, and when I remove my hands from my eyes, his own are undeniably lighter.
“Let me get you an Uber,” he suggests, and it takes me off guard.
I won’t pretend I don’t appreciate his rescue tonight, because I have to admit to myself that I truly don’t know how the night would have ended otherwise.
But he’s also not my fucking father, he’s barely even a friend, and I don’t need him taking care of me indefinitely. If there’s anything tonight has taught me, it’s that I don’t need some dude trying to control my actions. Ever.
“I’m just going to walk. I need the air.” I explain, because he does deserve at least that, I suppose.
I expect Noah to shrug it off, to make his way up the beach, to Jillian's, and join the party he showed up for in the first place, and appears to have yet to actually attend.
His judgmental expression is unexpected, but I’ve taken about all I can tonight, and I decide I need to get myself home and figure myself out. Like, now.