When She Walks Away (Teresa) novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172

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Teresa huffed, irritation prickling, and Troy quickly averted his gaze, his ears flushing pink as he stammered, “I–I’m sorry, I didn’t

mean to-”

Teresa scoffed, “Just get out for a minute.”

Troy glanced at the window, then back at her, stubborn. “I need to talk to you. I’ll go once you’re dressed.”

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The image of her bare back lingered in his mind, sharp and unshakable, but he shoved it down, jaw tight, forcing himself to stare at the wall.

Something about him turning his back–so deliberate, like he was trying to be decent–made Teresa’s guard soften.

She shed the towel and pulled on her pajamas, then called, “Done.”

Troy turned, but his eyes stayed glued to the floor, fixated on her toes as he mumbled, “Alright.”

Teresa’s annoyance flared again. “Troy, stop sneaking in through my window at night. This isn’t the first time you’ve scared the hell out of me–and this time, I wasn’t even dressed.”

She paused, then continued patiently. “Don’t do it again. I’ll board the window up if I have to.”

Troy’s head snapped up, eyes glinting with that familiar, reckless spark. “Board it. I’ll just walk through the front door.”

He gave her a roguish grin, adding, “Hell, maybe I’ll tell Theodore and Yvonne I crashed in your bed. Then you’ll have to keep me, won’t you?”

Teresa’s cheeks burned, splattering, “Troy, don’t you dare-”

He closed the distance in two strides, his tall frame casting a shadow that swallowed her, and his grin widened at her fluster.

He leaned down, chuckling. “You get to boss me around, but I can’t tease you back? That hardly seems fair.”

Teresa huffed, turning away. “What do you want, anyway?”

He didn’t answer–just brushed past her and flopped onto her bed, arms behind his head.

Teresa pouted and snapped, “Troy, get off!”

The last time he had collapsed onto her bed, Teresa had dashed off to work afterward and completely forgotten to swap out the sheets.

Then that evening, Monica had come to her room to play, and when she grew tired, she’d curled up to sleep in Teresa’s bed without a second thought.

The little girl flopped onto the pillow, her nose wrinkling into a tiny frown as she piped up, “Aunt Teresa, your pillow smells stinky.

Teresa had snatched it up and taken a whiff. It wasn’t actually gross, not really. Just Troy’s booze, faint and sharp, tangled up with his usual scent, that warm, familiar musk of his.

All mixed together, though, it was clearly enough to read as “stinky” to Monica’s sensitive nose.

When Monica had pressed her about the smell, Teresa had fumbled for an answer, tongue–tied.

So now, spotting Troy splayed out across her bed again, that same bed, Teresa felt irritation bubble up.

Troy just lay there like he hadn’t heard it at all. Instead, he answered her earlier question. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come check on you.”

As he spoke, he watched her closely, trying to catch any hint of a reaction on her face.

But not a single flicker of emotion showed–he didn’t see anything

Seeing him act like such a troublemaker, Teresa shot him a look and said, “Fine, stay there. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

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Chapter 172

With that, she marched over to the couch, plopped down, and pulled a blanket over herself, back pointedly turned.

She was sure he wouldn’t actually crash here all night.

Once he got bored, he’d probably sneak out on his own.

But exhaustion clung to her, and with him there, she couldn’t relax.

Time passed and she was about to drift off, then Troy suddenly spoke up. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Her eyes flew open. “Where?”

He pointed at the window, grinning. “Sneak out from there.”

Teresa was stunned for a second and just blurted out, “What?”

Troy grinned, a spark in his eyes. “I’ll take you down to the old town’s waterfront–there’s a little market. We can grab one of those wish boats, write down what we want, and set them drifting on the current.”

Back when she went with her friends, she’d been blown away by how lively the old town was.

It had been years since she’d been there, and she was kind of itching to check it out again.

Teresa fell quiet, and Troy knew–she was hooked.

He could practically see the wheels turning, the way she was probably torn between caution and curiosity, but he wasn’t about to let her overthink it.

He hopped off the bed and sauntered over to the couch, drawling, “You gonna get up on your own, or do I gotta come drag you?”

He’d stretched the words on purpose, and Teresa sat up with a huff, declaring, “Fine. I’m up.”

“Good. Go change,” he said, nodding toward her closet.

She pushed herself off the couch and headed for the closet, grabbing clothes before ducking into the bathroom.

Troy couldn’t resist a jab as she hurried past. “Come on, you think I’m gonna bite? Still gotta hide to change?”

When she emerged, he was still standing where she’d left him, leaning against the wall.

The second she stepped qut, he closed the distance, sliding an arm around her waist and leaning down to murmur, “So, we heading out the front door?”

Troy laughed, low and warin. “You’re scared they’ll get the wrong idea?”

He pulled her closer when she tried to squirm away, then led her to the window, grinning down at her.

He said, “Hold tight, Teresa. Don’t let go of my waist.”

He grabbed a rope coiled on the floor, wrapped it around his wrist a few times, and gave it a test tug

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In the next instant, the rope jerked upward, and he reacted in a flash–swinging himself out the window, yanking Teresa close by the

waist as he went.

The rope yanked them both right out the window.

One second they were in the room, the next they were hanging in the air.

Teresa’s heart shot into her throat–she didn’t even get a chance to protest before he’d dragged her into this madness.

The second her feet left the ground, she clung to his jacket like a lifeline, her legs locking around his waist, terrified she’d slip.

Troy, meanwhile, was unfazed. He looked down at her, all wide eyes and white knuckles, and laughed.

He landed steady on the ground a second later, but Teresa was still wrapped around him like a vice, not even realizing they’d touched, down,

Troy chuckled, patting her back gently and comforting her, “We’re down, you know. Still hanging on? Are you afraid I’ll bolt?”

Teresa acted like she hadn’t heard a word, still glued to him.

He grinned, leaning in to murmur in her ear, “Come on, I told you I’m not going anywhere. As long as you want me here, I will be. But if you keep squeezing this tight, I might just pass out.”

When she still didn’t let go, worry pricked him.

He eased her off gently–and froze when he saw her face, streaked with tears.

“Hey, hey–what’s wrong? Did I scare you that bad?” He reached for her, voice soft with concern.