He leers at Ru in an overly suggestive way that has me shaking my head at him.
Dinner’s delicious since it was catered, and of course I enjoy catching up with them, but throughout it all I’m overly aware of Noah’s presence just a foot or two away from me.
I pay enough attention to him to memorize his laugh, to notice how it’s only halfway through their tale that his shoulders really drop and he allows himself to be present and enjoy the time with friends.
By the end of the night, the thought of being Noah’s friend is both a dream scenario and my worst nightmare.
I’m aware that my thoughts are insane, and I feel like it too, but nothing I do helps. No matter how many glasses of that Gran Amor rioja, how many funny stories are passed around, or how at home Ishouldfeel, I’m still... twitchy.
It’s annoying.
So I try to compensate for my weird mood by thanking Nate and Ru profusely for the invite, for dinner, and promise to do this again soon.
While Noah and I wait for the elevator, I wonder why they invited the two of us together after they got back from their trip. Why not invite us individually, or a larger group of friends?
It dawns on me too late.
The elevator doors close on Nate’s knowing smirk and Ru’s pinched brows and I have my answer.
I don’t love their meddling, but since the air turns charged as fast as a lightswitch once we’re alone, it’s not like I can proclaim they’re wrong now, can I?
First, I wonder if it’s just me.
I know when Noah’s taking a deep breath, or he shifts ever so slightly on his feet.
It’s not a minutes-long descent, so I know that if I’m going to do anything, it has to be like,now.
I turn before I can even decide if it’s wise, and I must’ve done it way too fast, because Noah’s eyes, wide and surprised, peer up at me with an almost scared anticipation.
There’s desire in them, and that’s the only reason why I have the fucking audacity to close the space between us. Or why I dare lift my hand and cup his jaw.
“Noah,” I whisper, asking for . . . something more.
“Yeah?” he asks, just as softly.
It’s not the confirmation I was looking for, but then his eyes turn downward to my lips.
I don’t hesitate, really, I just go right in, but I can see how he jerks back in slow motion.
I register every painful millisecond of the stinging rejection, and shame fills me with a vengeance.
I close my eyes, turn away, trying to breathe enough oxygen into my brain so I can come up withsomethingto say.
But then the doors open, and the escape route is too tantalizing to turn away.
CHAPTER SIX
Noah
I turn over again,hoping a new position will work, but I know it’s no use, sleep just isn’t happening for me. Every time I close my eyes I relive the scene in the lift in my head. I try to give it different endings, including one where I don’t pull away and Chase kisses me instead. I’ve indulged in that one a lot, but I know that ultimately it wouldn’t have ended well, and in any case, it’s unlikely to ever happennow.
In truth, I hadn’t really had any idea of what he was planning when he cupped my jaw. I was just caught up in the moment. But when he leaned in close, for a second I’d wanted his lips on mine. I still do. But while my body responded one way, my head—my rational, overthinking, and frankly unhelpful brain—inserted an image of Cordelia and her awful attempts at being seductive for Chase, and I remembered our company policy.
The worst part of all of this is that I didn’t get a chance to explain. When the lift doors opened, Chase just walked off. I called out after him but he didn’t turn back. It’s this thatkeeps me awake, and knowing that sleep is even less likely to come now, I rise and walk into the kitchen of my apartment. It’s not a large flat, it just has a bedroom and en-suite bathroom, a small kitchen, and a slightly larger living space. It also has a small room I use as an office when I don’t want or need to go into the ANC offices. But what I love about it is it’s part of an old building, so it has high ceilings and stone features along with a character that modern buildings don’t seem to possess. So yes, in answer to Chase’s question back on Nate and Ru’s wedding day, I do love ancient things. Books, buildings, artifacts... people. Not that I’d call Chase ancient, but well preserved. Urgh, no, that makes him sound like a relic. But what does that matter, as that’s all messed up now.
I open the fridge door and stare into the cool lit space for far too long, not taking in anything, just looking for inspiration, a diversion. Eventually I settle on a glass of milk, and pour one out before sitting at the kitchen table.
Why did it have to get so complicated? I wanted Chase as a friend and as a client. In my fantasies I’d wanted more, but I’ve been very careful to keep a lid on those as I can’t have Chase that way and as a client. And after the communication we’ve had, even though he’s been busy as he explained earlier, I really strongly thought he might sign on with me as his agent. I was very proud of myself earlier, during dinner, when I acted cool and understanding because he hadn’t been in touch. I didn’t want to pressure him, or worse, sound desperate and needy. But I really do want first refusal to be his agent, even though Aiden and especially Cordelia won’t be happy, as they think he should be theirs. But then Chase went straight to the fantasy part and my brain short-circuited, not in a good way. And now I’ve ruined the chance of being his friend and agent too. This is a lose-lose scenario no matter how I look at it.