“I’m more interested in your zodiac sign than anything else,” he said, continuing to explore her skin in a very PG way.
“My sign?” Dahlia was limp with pleasure but managed to laugh. He was into astrology, and that was hot too. Damn, he was full of surprises in the best way.
“I have a sister, remember? Gretchen is crazy about crystals and chakra and all that.”
“You’re adorable. You know that?” Dahlia liked Gretchen so much more now. She drew his face to hers. “Take a guess.”
“On your sign?” he asked.
“No, my age,” she playfully responded.
“Dahlia, it doesn’t matter.”
“Well, it might, Noah. I’m …”
“What are you, like, fifty?” he blurted.
“No. Thirty-eight.” Dahlia pinched her eyes shut but then opened one eye.
He had zero facial expression. This was it, the end of their summer fling. Dahlia felt faint, woozy by his unresponsiveness.
Then he smiled, with one corner higher than the other. “That doesn’t scare me off. In fact, I’m not sure anything would at this point.” And with that, he pressed his lips to hers again and lingered.
“I’m a Pisces, by the way.” She didn’t ask about his age or sign; she knew he had a birthday coming up, and she looked forward to the day when she was only nine years older, not an entire decade. Dahlia also knew the zodiac, and the idea of two water signs cosmically seemed too good to be true. The energy between them was rare, explosive, peaceful, and cathartic. Every cell in her body was awake and in a state of wonder. She was at the top of the Ferris wheel and didn’t want to come back down.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
July 9
Dahlia let the tepid water run over her face and down her body. The kisses she’d shared with Noah last night were all she could think about. She pressed her fingers to her wet lips and smiled. She couldn’t help but imagine Noah in the shower with her, pressing his naked body against the steamy wall and holding his cute butt cheeks in her hands. Her legs felt weak, and her lady parts ached. She immediately turned the water to cold, hoping to slow her racing heart.
After a quick dry, she hooked her bra and wiggled up her panties, wishing she didn’t have to. But Noah had made his “I want to take things slow” intentions very clear the night before, and his electrician friend was downstairs waiting to be paid. Dahlia threw on a yellow ruffled short floral dress and grabbed her espadrilles from the floor.
She could hear Noah talking to Rob from the upstairs hallway. She stuck her back to the wall and, against her better judgment, listened.
“Thanks for coming on such short notice. And on a Sunday,” Noah said.
“Sure thing. That box was ancient. With the two-twenty volts, you’ll be able to hang Christmas lights and see them from space.”
“Well, we appreciate it,” Noah said.
We, huh? She liked that. Her mind went to Christmas lights. She’d be gone by then, and someone else would own the house. Dahlia was dizzy at the realization that she wouldn’t be here for her favorite holiday and that someone else would be living in Lil’s house.
“I’ll be heading to Gretchen’s this week for the inspection. Maybe I’ll catch you on the other side.” There was a gritty cackle, which was followed by an awkward silence. “Hey man, are you okay? I haven’t seen you since … You know. For the record, it was shitty.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Grateful I found out when I did,” Dahlia heard Noah say in a hopeful tone.
“You dodged a bullet if you ask me.”
You tell him, Rob,she thought.
“Dahlia, are you coming?” Noah yelled up the stairs.
She tiptoed back to the bedroom and yelled, “Ah, yeah, be right there.”
Quickly, she inspected her sun-kissed skin in the mirror and tied her hair back with a bandana. She looked closer. Her eyes sparkled like water at sunrise—void of any puffy bags or dark circles under them. A smile curled her lips. She liked this version of herself, hopeful and light. She pursed her glossy lips and inhaled. It was official. Dahlia Newberry was head over heels for a younger guy.
Dahlia flew down the stairs, causing her ruffles to flounce.
