“Amazing.” I didn’t mention the power couple comment. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
“It was all you, Scribbles.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” I said, hoping he could hear the sincerity in my voice.
“I know,” Noah replied, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as if he were in on some private joke. “I guess that makes me the stalker, then.”
I tilted my head back against the wall we were both leaning on, mirroring his easy posture. “I guess we both are.”
The comfortable silence between us was brief before I said, “I saw your post about taking a break for the summer. You were so open with everyone. I like that you’re going to see what happens when you get back, instead of making empty promises.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice lighter than I remembered it. “I finally summoned the courage to be honest with my audience.” His gaze softened as it settled on me. “Thanks to you.”
Was it getting warm in here, or was that just me?
“What’s happening with school?” I asked, desperate for a topic change to distract me from the way my pulse had started racing.
He tucked his hands into his pockets, the sheepishness returning. “I’ll be attending the University of Illinois Chicago this fall.”
My jaw dropped, and before I could stop myself, I pushed off the wall like it had burned me. “No way!” Forget decorum—this was definitely hug territory.
Wrapping my arms around his middle, his surprised laugh vibrated against me. “I’m so proud of you,” I said, squeezing just a little tighter.
Arms wrapped around me in turn. Noah’s hugs were all-encompassing. Like I could bury myself here and stay safe forever. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, too.”
“It’s worth everything.”
After a minute, we both awkwardly stepped back.
Where did this leave us?
Ex-colleagues who ran into each other every once in a while?
Ex-friends who played nice when forced to?
Ex-lovers who were awkward all the time?
Everything was ex, ex, ex. It didn’t have to be.
“I accept your apology,” I said. “I know you’ve only had good intentions when attempting to help me.”
He grinned. “Yes, but I’ll plan to get your explicit approval on help in the future.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
When Noah, with his arms still encircling my waist, asked, “Do you want to go out for real sometime?”, I thought I melted. Just a little. Maybe we could get on the same page again. A page of open communication and honesty.
“Yes,” I answered.
There was a lot still to figure out, but we could at least start with one real date.
28
NOAH
“How is this romantic?” Daphne asked, trailing me into my bedroom where I rummaged through the overflowing laundry basket in the corner.
“Because we’re both runners,” I shot back, trying not to gag. Why did all my socks smell like they’d been fermenting in a swamp?
