Page 17 of Prove Me Wrong
Noah blinks. Silence settles over us. It's as if he’s realised he was blabbering on as much as his daughter is.
Stifling a smile, my hands cross over my stomach as I consider his offer carefully. Becoming a babysitter was never on my mind when I moved here. I have a degree in graphic design, but obviously, in this small town, there are no design companies and working online is so competitive that it’ll take me months just to build up an adequate portfolio.
Mum insisted I follow in her footsteps and become a lawyer to take over her firm when she retires, which at this point will be when she’s seventy. She loves her work, and her drive is through the roof, but I never wanted to go down that career path.
I tried it for a semester before pulling out and moving into something I was actually interested in, which was graphic design. Changing my degree is how I met those friends. Well, I thought they were my friends. And then Ryan came into my life...
Shutting my eyes for a second, I steel myself before I fall back down into the rabbit hole of my swallowing memories. I open my eyes, Noah patiently waiting, and suck in a breath. “I left my job before moving here.” His mouth tightens, and my body stiffens. “Would I come to your place to watch her?”
Noah dips his chin once. “I have everything you’ll need there, and I wouldn’t want to bother your Gran, or get your own place messy.”
Sliding my hands up my arms, I rub mindlessly at my elbows, feeling the inflamed skin that’s red and dry. “And what would I do exactly?”
Noah’s gaze tracks my nervous habit, and I can't tell if his expression is sympathy or perplexity. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Normal toddler stuff. Feed her. Change her. Play with her. Make sure she doesn’t die...” Hismouth curls into a smirk at the last one. He must notice my eyes flaring with shock because he huffs out a laugh. “I'm joking. I know you won’t actually kill her,” he says through a chuckle. My shoulders loosen. “It won’t be hard. Jade’s easy to look after, and she’ll love it more than the daycare."
My eyes settle on his glistening ones before I shake my head. “I-I don’t know if I can, Noah.”
Heat shoots through me violently at the guilt that settles there.
Noah's head falls forward. He breathes out steadily and nods. “No, it’s fine. I know it’s a lot to ask. I’m sure I can find someone else.”
My hands tingle at having to turn him down. This man, who looks overwhelmed, needs my help, but my anxiety is holding me back. I hate how much of a hold it has over me, and as much as I wish to break free from its chain tightening around my insides, I can’t go through what I’ve already been through again.
I don’t think I’d survive if another man hurt me.
Noah turns with Jade to walk back over to their house. I realise then how sore my elbows are becoming, cracking and textured from constant friction. I remember the look in Ryan’s desperate eyes when he was pinning me down and forcing himself onto me. His dark eyes were wild and greedy, filled with a rage and lust I never understood. I feared seeing it every time he violated me.
But Noah isn’t Ryan.
Noah also looks desperate, but it’s a different kind, like a pleading, selfless desperation of someone seeking help. It hurts me to see Noah looking so defeated. The tiredness framing his duller eyes. A twinge of colour beneath shows how much exhaustion he’s wearing today. It all adds to the stinging in my chest, the penitence flooding my veins like toxic oil.
I won’t lie and say that Noah doesn’t make me nervous, because he definitely does, just like Ryan did when I first met him. But I don’t think it’s because I fear Noah. I think it’s because I’m intrigued in who he is, wanting to know more about this man, despite my anxiety trying to change my thoughts, shouting for me to run. A part of me knows deep down that Noah is a good man. I should be able to trust him, to feel comfortable in his presence, but the constant reminder of how Ryan abused my trust keeps me from giving this man more. I want to trust him, and that’s what’s terrifying me right now. Trust is such a fine line, and it can be destroyed in a matter of seconds.
My hands drop from my raw elbows as I dash down the stairs. “Wait.”
Noah spins on his heel, green eyes colliding with mine, golden hair fluffing in the breeze. My hands tingle at our proximity and the intensity of his masculine features. The sharpness in his jaw, the sweep on his cheekbones and tiny white scars decorating his skin. “I-I don’t really have much experience when it comes to toddlers. I don’t know?—”
“I’m sure you will be great, Grey. I’ve seen how you are with Jade. You’re a natural,” Noah says. His words of praise make my extremities fizzle like soda water.
My throat works, and Noah steps closer again, closing the gap between us. Huffing out a hollow laugh, his gaze flickers away as a smile toys with his lips. “Look, I know the travel might be a lot, but this would really help me out. And Jade.” He lightens the air between us with another joke.
I can’t stop the soft snort that escapes my nose, and Noah’s smile consumes more of his gorgeous face, revealing his dimples that I’m growing to crave the sight of. “Yeah, those twelve metres might actually kill me,” I quip back.
I realise that for the first time in a long time, I casually joked with aman, and it felt…good.
Better than good.
Noah’s grin widens, and I swallow nervously. I haven’t been this spontaneous in years, but maybe this is what I need? And I will have Gran next door in case something happens, or if Noah…
My chin dips as I tuck loose strands of dark hair behind my ear. “Okay.” The word comes out as a whisper. The relief on Noah’s face is evident.
“Okay?” he repeats with raised eyebrows that almost reach his hairline.
I nod again and peer up into his deepening irises, coated in a layer of hope and gratitude. “I’ll do it. If it’ll help you and Jade, then I'll do it.”
Noah’s dimples reappear, and I immediately feel better about my decision, no matter how nervous I am about taking care of his daughter. “Thank you, Grey. I appreciate this so much, you have no idea.”
Smiling softly, I fight the urge to rub my arms and let out a quiet, “You’re welcome.”
