Blood Money (1) | The Inheritance Games

LVII. dancing with our hands tied

"My love had been frozen, deep blue but you painted me golden."

Noah and I are both shivering as we step inside the double glass doors, clinging to the towels wrapped around us. 

"I think it's the pool. It's always freezing regardless of the time of year or hour of the day." I chitter, still pale from the drastic change of the hot water to freezing cold snowy air. 

"Yeah that sounds right." He agrees, his big body trembling. "Let's go." I encourage, starting back for the door. 

Noah stops me by grabbing my forearm. "You think going into a cold pool is a good idea right now?" He challenges. "Already cold, might as well." I shrug, unbothered. 

"Your lips are blue." He states factually, pulling me back in and nodding to the couch. I begrudgingly sit down as he kneels before the fire, figuring out how to light it. 

I pull the only blanket from the basket beside the couch, shrugging it over me and ditching the itchy towel. When the fire finally lights, Noah sits down beside me in triumph. 

"C'mere." He mumbles, wrapping his arm around my waist and using it to pull my entire body weight in with merely one arm, pressing me against him. He tucks himself under the blanket and sighs shakily as he tries to heat up, rubbing his hands together. 

I swallow, shifting beside him so I'm facing him, my folded legs leaning over his comfortably. 

"I meant to ask you something." I mumble, his whole body visibly tensing. I slip a hand over his abs where the bruises lay. He groans a little, eyes shutting for just a moment. "You're hurt again." I continue. "Nice observation." Noah sighs, jaw tensing as his whole body suddenly becomes very distant without even moving. 

"Ready to talk about that yet?" I raise a brow, slowly rubbing his side for comfort without touching the bruises. "Don't see much point. We broke up, didn't we." He shrugs with avoidance. "I still care though. Would you not still care about me if I had my entire stomach bruised up?" I reply.

"Well you don't." Noah tuts, trying to simply end the conversation. "And if I did?" I challenge. "But you wouldn't." He raises his voice. "You'e avoiding the question. If I was beaten to a pulp and refused to tell you what happened, would you care?" I match his volume firmly. 

"Of course I would, Spence!" He snaps furiously, then he takes a deep breath and calms himself. "I understand that you care. And I appreciate it. But I don't want you caring about me. Especially not about this shit. I'm fine. That's all you get to know." He explains calmly. 

I bite my tongue, wanting more than anything to yell again, but I know it's not my place. He's safe. He doesn't want me to know. 

"A part of me will always care about you, Noah." I whisper softly, voice cracking with emotion. Noah softens, his head turning to me slowly, looking between my eyes. 

"Well you need to stop that part from caring." He mumbles back, a firmness to his voice. "I can't." I swallow hard, the words getting caught in my throat. "Well, that's the problem." He snaps. 

I cup his cheek, his whole body instantly calming at my touch. "I don't think me caring is the only problem." I murmur. He cups my cheek, "Well what is?" Noah replies hoarsely, our eyes refusing to break contact. 

"I think part of the problem is your eyes." I say gently, letting myself lean achingly close to him. "What's wrong with my eyes?" Noah hums huskily, parting his lips just enough to let me feel his warm breath fanning over my chilled skin. 

"The way they look at me." I growl out, moving my legs just wide enough that he can move closer. "What else?" He asks, shifting so he's facing me directly, kneeling between my legs. "Your lips." I whisper.