Page 53 of The Stand-In Boyfriend

The glasses clink loudly as they connect to the counter. I flinch at the sounds. Noah’s back is tense, his head lowered. I can’t see his face, but I know he’s pissed.

The guilt slams into me, hard and unyielding. Noah has been trying his best to help me out, and I’ve been acting like a royal bitch.

“Noah, I…” I try, but he doesn’t let me finish.

“Go and take a shower.”

* * *

Sometime later, I find Noah sitting on the living room floor, his books open in front of him as he scribbles something down. The sense of guilt from before returns in full force. He could be literally anywhere, yet he chose to come here.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, leaning against the doorway.

The shower helped wash away the remnants of the day and my frustration. My ankle is still hurting, but overall, I do feel slightly better. More human.

Noah looks up at me, his eyes slowly taking in my bare feet, loose pajama pants and tight fitted tank top, my wet hair and makeup free face. I should feel exposed and vulnerable standing like this in front of him, but for some reason I don’t.

“It’s okay. It’s been one hell of a day.” He looks tired; there are bags underneath his eyes that I haven’t noticed before.

“No, it’s not. You tried doing everything in your power to help me today, and I’ve kept pushing you away and spouting snarky comments. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” He pats the couch next to him. “Come sit. Pizza should be here soon. How’s the leg?”

Crossing the room, I plop on the couch and lift my leg onto the pillow that’s still on the coffee table. My ankle is even more swollen then before, if that’s even possible, and the bruises have turned that ugly dark blue-purple shade.

Noah’s hand lands on my leg, fingers skimming over the bruised flesh. Tingles that have nothing to do with pain spread though my leg.

“It hurts a bit,” I say, shivering.

“You should put an ice pack on it. Did you get anything for the pain?”

I shake my head. “Not since the nurse’s office.”

His blue eyes catch mine and hold. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. My hand inches forward, to… I’m not even sure what exactly, but the doorbell rings, startling us both.

“That’s the pizza.” Noah jumps to his feet and goes out of the room. I can hear him talking to the delivery guy in the foyer.

When he comes back, he’s not only carrying pizza but also an ice pack. He places it on my ankle before sitting next to me, a pizza box in his hand.

My stomach rumbles loudly, making me realize for the first time that I haven’t eaten since lunch.

“You got the veggie one,” I say, dumbfoundedly looking in as he opens the box. Not believing it.

A small smile tips at the corner of his mouth. “I know how you like your greens.”

“But you don’t,” I point out.

Noah shrugs, picking up a slice and taking a huge bite. “I can eat anything.”

I stare at him for a moment, looking at him eat. “You really are a good guy, Noah Russell.”

He swallows and looks away, color heating his cheeks. He looks boyish and kind of adorable.

“Not always.”

Everything that happened last year with Evie crosses my mind. How is that guy the same one sitting right here next to me? Evie has tried to tell me that Noah isn’t a bad guy, but I didn’t want to believe her. Not until now.

“What happened?”

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