by Frankie Rose
Part of me wants what he’s saying to be an option. I could just go to Africa with him and pretend my one night stand with Luke didn’t happen. But the reality is, despite the circumstances of how we actually ended up in bed together, I’m not ready to move on from my brief moment with Luke. I’m especially not ready to fall head first into a relationship with another guy and move to another country. A dangerous, war-torn country at that.
“Look, I’m really sorry, Noah. I know this is really unfair to you, and I feel bad for wasting your time, but—”
“You feel bad for wasting my time?” Noah’s eyes are alight when he snaps his gaze to mine. I should have seen how his eyes have the capacity to look wild like this, like he’s seconds from jumping off the deep end. He rakes his hands through his hair, pacing up and down the length of my bed. “Wasting my time? You really are a silly little bitch, Avery. Do you have any idea how many girls have been trying to screw me the past few weeks, huh? I’m so—” He looks like he’s physically lost the words he’s searching for. I am still reeling from him calling me a silly little bitch when he clambers back up onto my bed, crawling up over me so that his legs bracket mine, his palms pressing against the wall on either side of my head.
“I am so fucking stupid,” he breathes. His whole body is trembling, and his face has gone deathly pale. Every ounce of him screams, Rage! I should be afraid, especially when he leans in close and jabs an index into my face, but I just can’t manage it. I stare blankly at him, calmly wondering if he is about to hit me, which seems to enrage him even further.
“You’re coming to Africa with me, Avery.” His voice shakes as he tries to control himself. “Don’t you even think about telling me no. I’m not taking no for an answer, you hear?”
