Breaking Noah by Missy Johnson, Ashley Suzanne Page B

thigh. I smirk, because I can feel his eyes on me, my skin flushing everywhere his gaze lands. I want to pinch myself, because I’m sure this is a dream. This is going way too perfectly. Something has to give. He’s invited me to his freaking apartment.
    If
that
isn’t an opening, I don’t know what is. After the kiss, the texts, the call, the show…I feel like I need to step things up before the chance slips through my fingers.
    “Have you lived around here long, Noah?” I ask. My fingers twirl the ends of my long blond hair. He shifts in his seat, his hands clenched on the steering wheel.
    “I went to college here, so yes, a few years.”
    “You like teaching?”
    He nods, relaxing slightly as a smile spreads across his lips.
    “I love it. I’ve wanted to teach for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing more rewarding than helping people.”
    Yeah. I know just how much you like “helping” people.
    “Why college and not elementary or high school?” I ask.
    “Because college students actually want to be there. I thought it would be easier.”
    “It’s not?” I can’t help but grin.
    “Apparently not,” he says with a smirk. “Most of my students only take my class because they think it’s an easy grade. College isn’t about learning anymore; it’s about parties and having fun. Classes detract from that.”
    He pulls in to the driveway of a four-unit apartment building—nothing like where I live. This has class, sophistication…so much so that it makes me wonder how he can afford this on a teacher’s salary. Parking in an assigned spot instead of the first-come-first-served lot at my home, we walk the well-lit, landscaped walkway to the main entrance. The inside even smells wealthy…the scent of nothing lingers, making me homesick for the first time since I’ve been here.
    “The living room is that way if you want to watch TV. I’ll get you a drink.” I nod to where he’s pointing, but follow him into the kitchen, determined to make the most of all the time I have with him.
    Alone. In his
apartment.
    Photos line a bookshelf that sits behind the dining table. I wander over to get a closer look. Picture after picture is of him and a woman, arms around each other, too intimate to be family. His girlfriend, probably. I’m shocked, but I don’t know why. I knew he was with someone, but she looks totally out of his league. Polished and classy versus sexy nerd and controlled.
Wait. Sexy?
    I study her. She’s pretty. With her straight dark hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin, she is the complete opposite of me…and the near image of Karly. I breathe in sharply. He looks up, a concerned expression on his face.
    “Are you okay?” he asks. The next thing I know he’s holding my arm, guiding me back into the living room. “Sit down. You look like you might pass out. I’ll get your drink.”
    I oblige and fall onto the oversized sofa, the creamy suede soft against my bare legs. I normally guard myself so closely, but seeing how much his…
woman
looks like Karly freaks me the hell out.
    He obviously has a type, and I’m not it.
What if this doesn’t work? What if all I end up doing is making a total fool of myself?
    Stop it. He fucking kissed you.
Granted, he pulled away, but I haven’t been imagining the connection between us over the last few weeks.
I may be young, but naïve I am not.
    Besides, guys like him don’t have a goddamn type. They’ll fuck anything with a vagina.
    He walks back in carrying a tall glass of water. He hands it to me and I take a sip. His eyes haven’t left mine, and the worry I see in them is making me nervous.
    “I’m okay,” I assure him. “I haven’t eaten today, that’s all.”
    He nods unconvincingly. “Let me get you that pasta, then.” I smile, breathing only once he’s left the room again. Leaning back on the sofa, I let out a groan. I hope I know what I’m doing. I slide my shoes off and pull my legs up under me. The faint smell of perfume