Page 128 of You Fall First

“I have no idea.” She shrugs. “I don’t even work here.”

“Good point,” I say.

I follow her anyway.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Jo

I pull Noah into the first room with an open door, then drop his hand to flick on the lights. The space is clearly an office, with a big mahogany desk, a wall of filing cabinets, plus a tall, leafy plant in the corner. Must be nice to keep green things alive.

But I’m not here for the ambience.

“We need to talk,” I say, twirling to face him, before I lose my nerve.

“All right. I’m listening.” Noah’s brows ratchet skyward instead of collapsing, so I take that as a good sign. He isn’t upset or worried. He’s curious.

And why is he curious, Jo?

Because I’m being weird, obviously.

“Hey.” His eyes soften in the silence. “What’s going on?”

“I was thinking … that I … that we …”

I cut myself off, fumbling for words. I want to be more to Noah than a friend he runs into on occasion. More than Dex’s little sister who once stayed at his place to help out. But saying this out loud risks repeating the mistakes I made with Oliver.

I thought we were ready for next steps when he was formulating his exit strategy.

Still, Noah isn’t Oliver. And I’m not the same woman I was then.

And either way, this man in front of me is worth the risk.

“So you know I have this history, right? What happened with Oliver?” I swallow. “My dad likes to say I get out over my skis.”

“I’m a snowboarder.”

“Umm, that’s really not the point.”

“Ah.” His eyes crinkle. “So you didn’t manhandle me in here to talk about mountain sports?”

“No, I wanted to tell you these past two weeks were exactly what I needed.” I scrunch my nose. “Taking care of Dutton gave me a purpose for the first time in a long time, and you were … you are … I just felt …” My breath catches. “And I know I probably got caught up in a couple of dramatic moments where everything seemed like a bigger deal than it was. Like Rex in the toilet and potential anaphylactic shock⁠—”

I break off.

Did I just say toilet?

Man, I’m so bad at this.

My eyes grow filmy, and Noah’s beautiful face blurs, and I realize, to my deep horror, that I’m about to burst into tears in front of this man who probably already thinks my behavior is bizarre.

“Anyway, those moments mattered to me, dramatic or not.” My voice hitches. “So that’s it. Thanks for giving me a purpose. Also, I probably should’ve thought this speech through more before I opened my mouth.”

There’s a stretch of silence during which all my ears pick up is my own throbbing pulse.

Then Noah says, “Jo.”

I bite back a tiny sob. “What?” Fear hopscotches across my heart, and my gaze drops to the floor.