We sit on the small sofa in the book nook, laptop on the coffee table, the glow from the screen soft against the shelves. I curl my legs under me while Noah types, showing me how to add things to the site builder. He’s a lot more tech-savvy than me. His hands move with easy confidence, and I can’t help but watch the movement of his fingers.
He talks me through web templates and product lists, explaining each step.
“See? You can totally do this,” he says with confidence.
I hesitate, staring at the screen like it might bite. “It’s... a lot. I started making one last year. But…”
But I let Kyle tell me it was terrible, I let him convince me I couldn’t do it. I let him control me.
“But?”
I let out a heavy sigh. I’m torn. I want to share more with him, but I don’t want him to look at me differently. When I look intohis eyes, they’re so earnest and open, the decision seems easier. “My ex. He… discouraged me. When it came to a lot of things.”
Noah’s jaw tics. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
I know he’s right, but it’s not so easy to move past. All the comments over time added up, then as things got worse with Kyle, he got his claws into the bigger parts of me. He damaged the things that made me,me.
“I’ll help you with whatever you need. You don’t have to do it alone,” Noah says simply.
Something about the way he says it makes my throat tight. Not just about the website. About… everything.
He leans back into the sofa, socked foot nudging mine.
“So,” he says casually, “lunch with the chaos crew. Survived okay?”
He’s not looking at me any differently. There’s no pity in his eyes. He’s not pushing me to share more than I can now.
I grin into my lap. “Barely. Theo seems to be fitting in well.”
“Yeah. He’s a good guy. Funny and chill.”
“And Ciarán’s still trying to drive Aiden insane.” I chuckle.
Noah groans dramatically. “Is there seriously no man in this town who can keep him busy? I swear, if Aiden ends up in prison, I’m not bailing him out. Maybe Theo will be up for the challenge of taming him.”
My laugh echoes through the store. “They just thrive on irritating each other. It’s been like this for years. It’s got to the point where I think they both secretly enjoy it. And Ciarán cannot be tamed. Not that he even lets anyone close enough to try.”
Noah tilts his head, curious. “Ciarán doesn’t date much?”
“Not really. He goes through phases of trawling apps, but says it’s easier to stay single than deal with men who only want him for the wrong reasons.”
Noah’s brow furrows. “The wrong reasons?”
“Some try to feminize him. Others expect him to be a stereotype. He dresses how he likes, paints his nails, wears crop tops—but he’s a man. And people… don’t always get that. A lot of men just want him for his looks, they don’t see how amazing he is.”
Noah nods, slow and thoughtful. “That sounds exhausting. It’s a pity he’s been treated that way, he’s a great guy.”
I watch him while he says it, the way his expression softens instead of twisting with judgment. He means it.
When we pack up the laptop, I ask about the gym, and his face lights up as it always does when he’s talking about something he cares about. He tells me about organizing a new yoga class, about creating a space where people can work through the mental side of fitness without feeling like they have to perform. There’s a glow behind his smile, and I find myself mirroring him without meaning to. He’s so thoughtful.
When he mentions Rose and how Aiden’s been adjusting, he rubs the back of his neck with his hand—that worried tell I’ve caught before. It’s funny, my dad always did that, now me and Aiden do, too, and apparently Noah. I like noticing things about him.
I like that he cares about my brother and niece, that he accepts my friends as they are. That he acceptsme.He hasn’t seen every dark corner, but what he has seen, he hasn’t turned from.
I like him. A lot. It scares me because I think I more than like him.
The conversation tapers off, but the quiet that follows doesn’t feel awkward. It feels… charged.
