“Maybe because she knew he was cheating on her! Maybe because he refused to choose between the two of them, so someone had to do something.” I jutted out my chin. “So what would you do?”
“I’d choose the person I loved.”
“So you say,” I said skeptically. “But you can’t really know.”
“I do.”
“Seriously? So—even if the first girl was a poor orphan, and the second a rich society girl who’dalsobring the family company to another level, you’d pick love? Because I’d think the wealth of the second would go a long way to soothing any heartbreak.”
“No,” he said, and for whatever reason his decisiveness infuriated me. “I wouldn’t be with someone I didn’t love.”
“You can’t be certain.”
“Yes, I can,” he said, and maybe I’d infuriated him, too, because his voice rose. “Because I actually care about how other people feel. Though maybe I should stop, maybe I shouldn’t care about my dad or my company or the family and I should only focus on me if that’s just what everyone else does!”
I felt gutted. “Noah—”
He let out a deepwhooshof breath. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t upset me. God, Abigail.”
Now he sounded evenmoreupset. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Um, it doesn’t sound like nothing? You sound—worked up.”
He tugged open another desk drawer. “If I am, it’s for entirely different reasons.”
“What did you mean?”
“Forget it.”
“Then why’d you say it?”
“I don’t know!” he shouted. “Because sometimes you drive me crazy!”
My stomach drew inward. My lips parted. Noah’s and my gazes collided, his intense, mine surprised. And for one crazy, maddening instant, I thought—
I thought—
The door swung open.
Time slowed down as the door scraped against the floor. Noah grabbed my waist and thrust us both toward the window alcove, with the tall glass panes and the velvet curtains. We tumbled inside, landing on the window’s ledge. Noah caught a fistful of the fabric and yanked the curtain closed. It whisked across the floor and shut us both in a tiny enclave of space, dark and private.
We huddled there, between the cool glass and heavy velvet, chests rising and falling. My hand clutched his arm. One of his had settled on my waist. His body radiated heat.
“We’re in so much trouble,” I whispered. A hysterical smile edged my mouth. “This is ridiculous.”
“Shh,” he said, but only barely. He was trying to muffle his own laughter.
Outside, we heard footsteps and the closing of drawers. We clutched each other, mirth more hysterical than entertained. Then, slowly, we stilled. The humor drained out of me. We were so close. I could see his individual lashes.
I drove him crazy, he’d said.
God, I wanted him so badly it felt like a physical ache. Only inches separated us. All I had to do...
