“I’m so sorry, did you say something?” I felt heat rushing up my chest and to my face in the usual reaction that I couldn’t control.
“No, no.” Noah seemed distracted, and I couldn’t figure it out until he lightly ran a ringer up my neck before pulling back like he’d had an electric shock. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
I worked to ignore the goose bumps that rose in wake of his touch. “For what?”
He shook his head like he was coming out of a trance. “It’s not okay to touch you without permission—I just love the way your skin flushes.”
I assumed telling him that I was down for touches up to and including that one, if not more, might make me sound too eager. “It’s fine,” I got out, my voice sounding like I smoked a pack a day. I cleared my throat and tried to get us back on track. “So what were you going to say?”
Noah stuffed his hands in his pockets. I toyed with the idea that he’d done that to keep from touching me, making a mental note to add that to my list of ideas for my book.
He cleared his throat. “Before I become a caveman who oversteps, I was going to tell you that you should clearly never play poker because you wear your feelings on your face.”
I tilted my head and watched him for a moment. I mean, not the first time I’d heard that from Lou or Kylie, but from a guy? Apologies to the men of the world, but they didn’t tend to be that observant in my experience.
“And what did I appear to be thinking or feeling?” Couldn’t help it—I needed to test him a bit.
Noah’s shoulders rose up in a shrug, hands still firmly in his jean pockets. “You looked conflicted. Like you might want me to stay but at the same time you’d like to be alone.”
Dang, nailed it in one. Well, we were in the early days for this friendship slash whatever we called it, so maybe holding the real me back wasn’t the right path forward. However, when had I ever been my authentic self with a guy I was interested in? Another note to ponder for my book. May all of my heroines live more evolved lives than me.
“Cards on the table?” I asked.
Noah nodded, distance still there, hands still in pockets. Adorable.
Well, I guess this would tell if he really wanted the honesty he proclaimed to. Watching for his reaction, I laid it out there. “I was thinking that I’d love you to stay and possibly figure out how we could move forward with being friends that kiss. At the same time, my brain is churning with some writing ideas for the first time in forever, and I really want to shove you out the door so that I can write.”
Noah’s face transformed, and it was beautiful. It smoothed out somehow, like he was at peace even while he threw his head back and let out a joyous laugh. His entire being transformed—shoulders dropped, hands out of pockets, body relaxed.
When his eyes finally met mine, I felt his stare down deep in my core where arousal stirred. Well, that was a long-dormant feeling of late. Tad inconvenient right now, however.
“Jules.” He walked right up to me until we were toe-to-toe. “This okay?”
“More than,” I whispered.
He threaded his hands into my hair, some more escaping from the mess on the top of my head while I lightly grasped his hips and worked not to just yank our bodies together. With his gentle directing, I tipped my chin up and our lips met again. Holy moly, I wanted to drown in that kiss. As my mouth slid open and his tongue found mine, a moan escaped. Him? Me? Who knew and who cared. A tingly sensation filled my entire body like I’d chugged several full-strength espresso shots. I feltalive.
Far too quickly, Noah slowed our kiss down until he pulled away, his gaze seeming to scan my entire face for something. Then he pressed a kiss to my nose and stepped back.
“Umm, not to be rude, but why are we stopping?” I whispered. My body wanted to stage a revolt, and my mind was in complete agreement.
Noah’s smile was sweet laced with a hint of want—like he wasn’t thrilled on the pause either even though he was the one who had done it.
You’ve only known the man for a week. My subconscious spoke up.
How long do you need to know someone before you can follow your gut?I asked back. I had known several guys in Chicago for a significant of amount of time longer than Noah and never felt as at ease as I did with him. Otherwise, no way would I be okay with kissing the man, much less attempting to convince him to give any of the fantasies currently swirling in my brain a go.
“I’m listening to you and what you said you needed.” His voice was patient.
“You sure about that?” I thought of said fantasies again.
He smirked and laid a kiss on my forehead that I mentally cataloged for my book. Was there anything more swoony than a forehead kiss by a gorgeous man?
“Babe, you said you need to write. And while we still have lots to talk about, I believe when the ideas are there, you need to get them down, right?”
I suddenly had a vision of Noah in this kitchen in lounge pants and a tee, making breakfast for me while I typed away furiously at the counter. Could that be my reality one day? The longing I felt to make it so was strong.
“Jules?”
