“Are you sure?” I ask, pointing at his face and waving my finger around in a circular motion. “Because this says otherwise.”
He rolls his eyes at me and pushes off from the wall. When he moves to open the door for me I slide past him, grabbing the handle for myself.
“That’s just my face,” he mutters.
“Ohhh,” I say, glancing back at him over my shoulder with a teasing grin as I make my way towards his car, “so you suffer from resting dick-face.”
“That’s not a thing,” he says sullenly, and this time he manages to beat me to the door, opening the passenger side for me and offering his hand to help me in. Ugh, he really is such a gentleman. I can’t recall a time that a man’s ever opened a car door for me. I don’t know much about cars, but it’s some kind of vintage muscle car, very low to the ground, and the helpisactually appreciated. I take the offered hand and try not to let myself think about how sweet I find the gesture. He probably does it for everyone anyway.
Once I’m settled he jogs around to the driver’s side, sliding in much more gracefully than I managed despite his size, and I resume my teasing. “It totally is a thing, and clearlyyouhave it. Don’t worry though, I’ve been told I have resting-bitch-face, so you’re in good company.”
He shoots me a fierce look. “Who said that to you?” he demands, his tone brusque.
“Oh … I don’t remember. Probably the same people that have other fun opinions about me.”
Noah’s frown turns into a full-on scowl, but he doesn’t say anything.
We pull out into traffic and it's a few minutes later when he speaks again. “I don’t see how anyone could say such a thing about you. You have the best and brightest smile of anyone I know. It lights up every room you’re in,” he says softly.
Wow.
Wow.
Melt my fuckin’ heart, Noah Gardner.
???
Noah’s words are still lingering thirty minutes later as we sit in the waiting room for my first appointment with the OB-GYN. That comment about my smile coupled with his behavior the other night has caused a little ball of warmth to spark in my chest. My mind is racing, but my thoughts are muddled. I can’t deny that I was pleasantly surprised by that little territorial act he pulled on the dance floor at Aroma. I keep telling myself that I wasn’ttryingto make him jealous, but the truth is … I totallywas. Just a little bit, anyway.
Not too sure what to do with that realizationorthe fact that itworked. We’re friends and we’re having a baby, and I think it might be easy to confuse this new bond of parenthood that’s growing between us for something else, and …
I can’t go there.
It had turned out to be a great night though. After Noah scared off the guy I was dancing with he’d snagged me around the hips, his fingers almost bruising in their intensity, and pulled me tight against his body. He wasn’t much for dancing, but he’d held me close and swayed with me proceeding to glare at anyone else who so much as glanced in my direction. I know it goes against my usual ra-ra girl power mentality–and if any other man had pulled that possessive crap I would have been pissed–but for some reason when Noah did it, Ilovedit.
My stomach does a little flip and a shudder runs through me at the memory of the look in his eyes that night.
Hot damn.
And now I get exactly what Piper means when she talks about Aidan’s caveman antics and how much they turn her on. I glance over at the man in question, seated beside me and anxiously jiggling his leg. His jaw is tense and his mouth is pulled to the side as though he’s again biting the inside of it.
And he’s not even the one that’s going to have to get a wand shoved up his hoo-ha.
Reaching out, I rest a hand on his thigh. He stills his movement and he looks over at me. Those serious brown eyes soften when they meet mine and he offers a small smile. My heart skips a beat and I fight back a little swoony-sigh.
That’s not me. I don’tswoon.
But apparently, with Noah … itis. And, Ido.
Ohhhh, I’m so fucked.
Noah settles his fidgeting and leans forward to pull his phone from his back pocket. He unlocks it and proceeds to distract himself with whatever’s on the screen. I decide to do the same, pulling my own phone out and opening it up to my social media, but a photo posted by Mark draws me back into the memory of the other night. It’s a picture of the four of us at the bar alongside Mark and the new guy he’s been seeing, Owen. They’d been dining there as well and had stopped by our table for a quick chat and a drink before heading elsewhere together. The photo had been snapped by Steph who had also shown up around the same time having just closed the library.
With her boys now both in high school and no longer in need of constant parental supervision Steph’s been coming out with us more often for a drink here and there. Piper and I think it’s great and we’ve been encouraging her to think about dating again, but she insists she’s not ready and maybe never will be.
My stomach does another little flip as I stare down at the photo. In it, Piper and Aidan are grinning goofily at each other; Mark, and Owen, and I are smiling at the camera; and Noah? He’s gazing down at me with a look that’s hard to read but is nonetheless startling in its intensity.
I press the lock button on my phone to close the app and close my eyes to rid myself of the image. Resting my head back on the wall behind my chair I let my mind wander back to what happened shortly after Mark and Owen’s departure. Piper and I had headed back out onto the dance floor, dragging Steph along with us. Aidan and Noah had remained at the bar but were ever vigilant in their supervision of us. Despite my growing exhaustion I was having fun and was determined to take full advantage of a night in which I’d eaten a full dinner and kept it down. I was also celebrating a little, internally, that Noah and I had managed to shake off the awkwardness of the last few weeks and seemingly resumed our earlier easy dynamic. It gave me hope for the future and for our ability to co-parent together.
