“Not here,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth. I don’t need Noah being more obvious than necessary.
“Then tonight at home.”
A shudder racks my body. Noah’s words are more of a promise than anything else. One I know he will follow through on.
“Okay. You might be wondering what we’re doing tonight. Each of you will be painting your seatmate. When you’re done, they will go to the team’s auction to help support a local school’s music program.”
“Who picked that?” Noah asks from next to me.
“I did. Why?” Marcus leans forward, looking over at Noah. “You have a problem supporting kids learning music?”
Noah throws his hands up in defense. “No. I like it. I just didn’t know who was in charge of that kind of thing with the team.”
Marcus scrubs a hand over his face. “Sorry, Strawberry. The girls are sick and I’m tired.”
Noah cuts his eyes from Marcus to throw a glare my way. “Where in the hell did you hear that name?”
“Flounder. Why?”
I can’t help the smirk that threatens to take over my entire face as the instructor continues with her instructions.
“Supplies are on the back wall. Grab whatever paint you need, and your brushes and water are in between your stations.”
“I thought I was going to shake that nickname here,” Noah grumbles.
“What? I can’t share a nickname for you?” I cross my arms and spin around in my stool, taking in the guy next to me.
“Aww. Poor baby.” Marcus ruffles his hair as he goes to grab his paint supplies. “Now that’s the only thing we’re going to call you.”
“I could kill Nick,” Noah mutters to himself.
“But then who would I get to tell me all the good stuff on you?” I bat my eyelashes at him. “I missed a lot when you were in Denver.”
“I’m going to have a conversation with ol’ Nicky.” Noah ignores me.
“I’ll make sure I get the scoop then before you get to him.”
Pulling out my phone, I pretend like I’m going to text him when Noah makes a grab for my phone.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Why not?”
Noah looks around, and when he’s sure no one is listening, he mutters, “Because otherwise I won’t do all the things I’m planning on doing to you tonight.”
“You play dirty.”
“I’ll get the paint.” Noah ignores me, whistling as he heads toward the paint station to get what we need. Damn. He really does know what he’s doing. The promise of what the night holds is too good to be true.
But I shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. Definitely not something I should be thinking about in mixed company.
“You have two hours. I’ll be around to help as needed, but in the meantime, have fun with this. Let your artistic abilities loose!”
“Do you even have an artistic bone in your body?” Jasper asks Bode, who is now sitting across from him.
“I’ve got one bone that does the job. I don’t need to be creative.”
“Gross, man!” All of us chide him from our spots around him.
