Chapter 136

Hannah

The sound of Noah’s voice made me jump so abruptly that I hit my head on the sofa. Reeling, I clutched my head and stumbled backward, my other hand flailing. “Easy, there.”

Two strong, warm arms encircled me from behind, preventing my fall. My feet barely touched the ground. Looking up, I met Noah’s concerned gaze.

“S-Sorry,” I stammered, hating how childish I sounded.

He shook his head bemusedly and gently settled me back onto the couch. “What were you doing?” he asked, tilting his head. “And why are you so jumpy?”

I started to tell him about finding the comb he’d used when he’d spent the night here with Zoe, but the words caught in my throat. I couldn’t mention it now, not with him sitting beside me, stroking my shoulder. No matter how angry I was, I couldn’t spoil this rare moment of tenderness.

Instead, I turned my head and pressed my lips together, trying to hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks. “Nothing,” I lied, waving my hand dismissively. “I thought I dropped my necklace.”

Noah gave me a strange look. “Your necklace is still around your neck,” he pointed out.

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking.”

For a moment, he blinked at me, mildly confused, his hand still resting on my shoulder. Up close, his cologne—smokey and woodsy, like aged whiskey or a smoldering campfire—filled my senses. No doubt Zoe had smelled it this close, too, when they shared a bed.

Finally, he withdrew his hand, yawned, and stood. “Well, I’ll take the couch tonight,” he said. “You can have the guest room. Zoe said it’s down the hall and to the left. Use the shower or whatever you need.”

“I’m fine,” I said, rising now that the moment had passed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I turned toward the doorway, but Noah cleared his throat. His hand shot out, pinning me against the doorframe.

My breath hitched as I recoiled, looking up into his deep green eyes. “Is there something else you need?” I asked, my voice far more timid than I intended. Under his gaze, beneath the solid line of his chest, I felt utterly defenseless.

He paused, his eyes scanning my face before whispering, “Hannah, I’m… I’m sorry. For making you feel the way you did when you fell.”

His ears flushed crimson. He quickly pulled his hand away and stepped back, giving me space to leave, but I didn’t move.

“You’re sorry?” I blurted out. “You really are?”

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I know you must have felt terrible when I walked out like that,” he said. “I should have stayed with you longer.”

You should have, I thought. But you came here instead, and slept in her bed, and…

Of course, I didn’t say any of that. I saw the remorse in his eyes, and once again, I felt myself softening.