Vicious Romance

Chapter 16

I stand impatiently in front of the main entrance, leaning on the nearest windowsill.

Where is he? It's been 12 minutes. Yes, he's only two minutes late, but still. I don't like waiting.

Especially not in some pantsuit- it's uncomfortable.

I glance at my watch anxiously, and then back at the door, curious to see when Noah's going to make his appearance.

What happens if he doesn't come at all? Maybe he was just messing with me... not wanting me to wait for him? Or worse, maybe he was just making me wait for him for his enjoyment.

I wouldn't be surprised if he did that.

Every time the door swishes open, my head can't help but revolve in its direction, hoping to find Noah walking through it. But, nope. Noah doesn't come.

As time passes, my thirst for coffee increases, and I have a debate with myself wondering if it's best to leave, and go on a coffee endeavor, by myself. As the thought swims through my head, Noah appears in front of me.

"You waited," he states, amusement in his eyes.

"I did," I blandly let out, making sure to express the frustration I was feeling. Why did I end up wait for him? There was no point- there was no point to any of this.

Yet, I can't help but stare at him. We're going for coffee, yet he's dressed like a model. He's wearing all black again, but he looks good in it. Ripped jeans, a denim jacket, and a plain black t-shirt. It's simple. But he makes it work. And his eyes... god they just make everything better.

I shake my head. Why am I thinking about this? Stop it.

He notices me staring, and chuckles to himself, trying to meet my eyes. I clear my throat and look away, not wanting to get lost in his gaze.

He comes to me and places his arm around my shoulders. I groan, despite the shivers running down my spine. He drags me along as we begin walking aimlessly.

"Hey, it's alright to find me attractive you know, a lot of other people do too," he says real casually, trying to pick up a conversation.

I roll my eyes at him and scoff.

"That's nice, but I don't find you attractive. You're not my type," I blurt out reflexively, trying to cover up after myself. It doesn't work. Curse my inexperience for causing these jittery feelings.

He raises his eyebrows at me and clings me tighter to him.

I suddenly find it hard to breathe, electricity pumping harder through my blood. I suddenly feel alive, awaken, but to the point where the touch of air against my skin feels overwhelming.

"I'm not your type? Please, I'm everyone's type. In college, I got all girls- even the cute, nerdy ones like you," he says as he taps my nose, playfully.

I furrow my brows, shooting daggers from my eyes. What's that supposed to mean?

"Nerdy- me nerdy? I'm not nerdy," I assure him as I flick his arm off me, my senses dulling, suddenly annoyed with him and his comment.

He can't help but giggle at my reaction. Giggling? Why is he giggling? I'm not being funny, I'm being serious. How is that funny?

"You are nerdy. You probably studied hard in school, set high expectations for yourself, and did little to no partying," he responds, ending it off with a soft whistling sound.