I eased out into traffic and put my hand on her leg. It wasn’t an attempt to dominate or control, it was to satisfy my need to touch her. To connect.
“My shower is better. It has a pulse setting.”
She fiddled with her backpack straps. “No, I can’t go to your place. I need to change before my advisor meeting.”
“You were just in a car accident. Give me the advisor’s name and I’ll reschedule for you.”
She let out a noise of annoyance. “Can you try not to control me right now?”
I wasn’t actually trying to. “Sorry,” I said, my voice plain, “but that’s not something I can turn off.”
Her irritation seemed to increase ten-fold when she realized I wasn’t taking her home. “I said I couldn’t go to your place. Come on, Joseph.”
Frustration tightened every muscle in my body, and it slipped out. “Hearing you scream scared the shit out of me. Can you humor me?”
Her statement was flat. “I thought you liked hearing me scream.”
Christ, was she serious? Her horrified, painful cry was a world away from the loud gasps of pleasure I enjoyed pulling from her. “No, never like that.”
She didn’t protest anymore, in fact, she was absolutely quiet the rest of the drive. I could tell her neck was bothering her and I wished I could do something to help. I felt fucking powerless, and I hated it.
Once we got to my place, Noemi pulled off her coat and headed straight for my bathroom, her body language making it clear she wanted space. If it had been another circumstance, I wouldn’t have allowed her distance or lack of communication, but I sensed not to push.
“Do you need anything? Want me to come in with you?” I asked.
“No.” Her voice was firm. “You seriously think I’m in the mood right now?”
“I didn’t mean I wanted to fuck you.” I fought to stay in control of my emotions. “I was asking if you wanted help.”
She tried to shake her head and winced. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You want to get in alone, I understand. Call for me if you change your mind.”
Without a word, she vanished into the bathroom and closed the door.
I took off my suitcoat and hung it in the closet, then went to the living room and sat down with my iPad. There were work emails to go through, schedules of upcoming shows to approve, and a request for a new sous chef to be hired at the restaurant. My mind wandered as I tried to read them and work, but the girl in my shower was always my focus.
I was in love with her.
The sickening sound of the crash had snapped my heart into two, and her voice afterward had sewn it back together, a piece of her inside. I was supposed to wait. I wasn’t supposed to tell her until she knew all of who I was, but I couldn’t. Life was too short. My feet carried me swiftly to the bathroom door, my heart racing.
I knocked my knuckles on the wood. “Noemi?”
“Fuck off.”
What the hell? “Excuse me?”
There was no answer.
The only sound was the constant stream of the shower running. I grabbed the doorknob and turned, only to discover it was locked.
“Noemi, answer me.”
But she didn’t.
“Open the goddamn door.”
Still nothing. My airway cut off and I stared at the doorknob, hurrying through my options.