Page 58 of Prove Me Wrong
“And what happened?” Noah asks.
My lips roll as I rein in a laugh. “I got kicked out of the class because I pushed a girl over and broke her wrist.”
His eyes flare wide as my laugh escapes. “Wow, so I know not to pick a fight with you, Grey.”
“No!” I shout, trying to contain my amusement. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, I think it is. Who knew you had a vicious side to you?”
My head shakes as I cover my mouth, chuckling harder against my palm.
His eyes narrow on mine. “You didn’t like the competition, did you?”
“No, I didn’t like the way she talked about me,” I admit, and Noah stares at me. “She was saying things like I was too small, slow and flat chested, so I pushed her over when I’d had enough.”
His gaze drops to my lips, then further down to my chest, and back up before he grins. “She didn’t know what she was talking about then.”
My mouth opens to argue with him, but I shut it, my mind starting to swirl.
You’re lucky your face is pretty, because there’s not much else you offer that’s good.
My jaw grits as I fight off Ryan’s damaging words that cut me down to my core. Noah doesn’t seem to have an issue with how I look. Maybe itwas only something Ryan hated, even though he didn’t object to using it over and over.
I shake my head, pushing out the words when Noah pulls Jade and me to a stop. My feet stammer as I balance myself to see Noah’s weighted gaze on mine. “Grey, what are you thinking about?”
My lips tighten as I force a smile. “Nothing. Just that I’m glad I taught her a lesson.”
His dimples come back, and I peek at them, my smile becoming natural again. His shoulders slacken as we keep walking. “I’m glad you taught her a lesson, too. Girl’s can be so mean sometimes.”
“Guys can, too,” I mutter under my breath, but Noah doesn’t seem to hear me.
The festival is set up down the main street. Cool autumn air breezes through the bare trees, gliding along the road and sweeping up fallen leaves. Cinnamon, sandalwood and apple cider seep into my nose, and I close my eyes, inhaling the warming scents. Wooden stalls line the sides of the road, filled with townsfolk wandering around, stopping at each stand to see what’s on offer. A large banner with the words 'Barrenridge Autumn Festival' hangs across two lampposts in orange, red and green.
“What do you think?” Noah murmurs beside me, hoisting Jade up onto his hip to keep her from getting lost in the crowd. Bundled up in a dark green coat and shiny gumboots, I smile across at her as her hand wraps around mine, holding onto it.
“It’s very cute, and not as I remember it being.”
“Back then, it was probably a lot smaller. It’s grown heaps in the last few years, with other smaller towns coming to celebrate the end of autumn with us.”
Smiling, my eyes move to his back to see the bag slung over his shoulders. “Do you want me to carry Jade? I’d hate for you to carry everything while I stand here with nothing.”
Noah’s lips quirk as he passes his daughter to me, and I hold her up. I’ve gotten used to the size of her now, and her feet that kick when I carry her, not out of annoyance, but more delight, I’ve come to realise. Her hands twist in my hair, touching the bow securing it before wrapping around my neck. Her fresh baby smell has become so familiar to me that I turn and kiss her forehead, breathing more of it in like I might forget it one day, and it’ll probably kill me.
“Should we get something to eat?”
“Yes,” I respond without hesitation.
Noah chuckles, lacing his fingers with my free hand. Blanching, my gaze widens at his, skin pressed against mine, tingling all over, but I don’t make any move to release my hand. Feeling the connection, the drumming of my blood heightens until it’s flooding my ears. Cheeks colouring and heart bursting, I stifle a timid smile.
He guides us over to a stall selling croissants, and the smell alone has my stomach growling. “How’d you know that I love croissants?” I ask as we stare at the display. There are plain ones, filled ones, and some doused in icing sugar and drizzled sauces. They all look delectable.
“Maybe I know you better than you think, Grey,” Noah murmurs beside me, and my heart thuds at the smoothness of his timbre. Noah hands me one filled with strawberry cream, then takes one stuffed with chocolate for himself before tapping them together. “Here goes,” he utters before biting the end, sweet sauce dripping onto his chin. He groans, eyes rolling backwards.
Giggling, I bite the end of mine, tasting the sugary strawberry cream mixing with the flaky pastry. I moan with delight;this is amazing.
“Told you the food here is the best.”
“I am never doubting your food choices again,” I mumble through a mouthful of croissant. He laughs.
