Because staring at me from underneath that baseball cap, was a face I’d spent a lot of time hovering cursors over on my computer.
A face that had broken my heart once before and almost did so again this past Saturday night.
“Sean?” The name was out of
my mouth before I even knew I was thinking it.
Immediately, I slapped my hand against my naked ear, praying he hadn’t noticed my runaway “accessory.” Where was that thing anyway?
His eyebrows furrowed as he considered me, all sweaty and disgusting, standing before him.
“Do I know you?” He blinked a few times. “I
’m sorry if I don’t remember
. I’m terrible with names.”
“Well, we’ve sort of met…” I stopped,
not sure how to take the news that he could forget me in four days’ time. “This weekend?”
“Oh…” His voice trailed off and he started looking past me, like he just needed an excuse and he’d be off running again. In hindsight, I should’ve just let him leave, rather than complicate things any further.
“I’m… um… I’m…” A total idiot? Totally screwed? A gigantic liar? Might as well go all the way, if I’d made it this far already. “Olivia
Saunder
s
is…
um…”
“You know Olivia?” His whole persona changed at the mention of her name, just like that. Sean’s smile brightened, no longer just a result of faked politeness, and his attention refocused on me. I felt like I was onstage in that instant, performing a careful ballet for a rabid audience just waiting to tear me apart at the first misstep.
“I’m…” Exactly how was I supposed to explain my sociology project in a not-boring way that made me not the bad guy? I guess if I didn’t care what Sean thought about me, it would’ve been much easier to do. But then again, would I even feel the need to explain it at all? Would I have pretended I didn’t recognize him, like any normal human being?
So no, thanks to my weird moral hang-ups, I couldn’t blow my cover and hurt his feelings. I wouldn’t admit right then and there that I was Olivia, a scheming liar toying with others
’
emotions just to get a better grade and earn my
Master’s
degree with honors. I needed
to keep up the ruse, just for now. Until I had a better plan.
“I’m Olivia’s roommate.
Remember me? From the party?
”
“
Oh, right! Nice to see you again,” he grinned again, shaking my hand. Then, just as abruptly, his eyes were searching in every direction around me. “Is Olivia with you?”
“
Uh…no. She’s out of town.” The answer fell on my tongue easily and I knew then what I had to do. If I kept Olivia out of the way long enough, maybe I could keep Sean’s attention for myself. “So, uh… how have you been? You know, since school? We didn’t really get a chance to catch up at the party, so…”
“I’m not sure if I remember you from school,” Sean said, puzzled. “What was your name again?”
“Hey Jen, what happened?” Noah cruised to a halt in front of me just then, almost toe to toe with Sean. “Sorry. Who’s this?”
“Just an old classmate I ran into. Literally,” I answered him, wincing. “Sean, this is my trainer Noah. And Noah, this is Sean, a former schoolmate and a pal of my roommate.”
A moment passed between them, something I didn’t really understand, but a lot like they were sizing each other up. Guys.
“Nice to meet you, Jen,” Sean said suddenly. “Could you tell Olivia I said hello? I hope she’s back
in town
soon so we can hang out.
If she ever takes a break from those modeling shoots, that is. Anyway, t
ake care!”
As Sean jogged away from us, Noah’s eyes looked to me for some answers. A roommate who
was a model had no doubt piqu
ed his interest. Next thing I knew, he’d be asking me to bring her around to the gym sometime, or inviting himself back to my place for private sessions—just so he could meet her accidentally.
You know, all i
n the line of duty.
“Yeah, I know, I have a…” I started to explain,
distracted by the search for my missing hearing aid. Noah spotted it first, pointing it out in a patch of dandelions. I snatched it up, only slightly mortified. ”What was I saying? Oh! Olivia! Yeah, I have a—”
“A huge gushing wound on your knee,” Noah cut in, alarm in his voice. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay? Come on.
Back to the gym with you. To the first aid kit!
”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
So maybe my wound wasn’t huge or gushing, but Noah certainly treated it like it was the most serious injury ever sustained on his watch. Maybe it was…
Still, the irony of his overreaction to my
skinned knee
after making fun of Tom wasn’t lost on me.
For a big, muscly guy, Noah had surprisingly gentle hands. Not that I can say I’ve been tended to by someone like him before, or even any guy, for that matter. But it surprised me nonetheless. Back at the gym, I watched—mesmerized—as he cleaned and bandaged my scraped knee. With the gym’s first aid kit at the ready, he swabbed my entire knee with antiseptic, being sure to pick out the tiny bits of gravel as he did so. I winced at each twinge, looking at the raw, red skin around the scrape.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” he said, studying it. With his hands all over my leg and his face
just inches from my skin, I have
never been so glad to have shaved in the morning.
He rifled around in the kit for a tube of Neosporin, which he applied liberally, and then for the bandages. A scraped knee was no big deal, something every kid gets pretty regularly. But as a grown woman, watching a grown man—no, watching
Noah
—knee
l
at my feet and tend to it so… tenderly… It was disproportionately intense.
“Does it hurt much?” he asked, admiring his handiwork. He was careful to smooth down each corner of the bandage completely, so it wouldn’t peel up and stick to my clothes. I hate when that happens and then they’re all linty and won’t stick to anything else. It’s like Noah knew this.
“Not too bad,” I said, then caught his skeptical look. “Well, not anymore.”
“I think you’ll pull through,” he teased, th
e corner of his mouth twitched
. Slowly, he rose from his position on the floor and as his lips passed mine, I felt myself lean towards them. Like they were magnetic or something.
Noah noticed and it stopped him in his tracks, half
-
sitting in the seat next to me. As he hovered there, a million thoughts zoomed through my brain, most of them negative in nature and none of them totally coherent. The word “stupid” featured prominently. So I did what any normal girl would do under the circumstances to compensate: I giggled. And then, I wanted to slap myself again.
Instead, I cut my giggling short, almost mid-breath. For a moment, the air thickened with silence. I felt like my hearing aids should be buzzing from the increasing pressure around my head. We just sat there, breathing in that air and staring at each other.
Noah cracked first, erupting into laughter. He had a full, hearty laugh—one I could’ve heard even without my accessories in place from across a crowded mall. The kind of laugh that goes viral.
And so I laughed along with him, out of both my relief and the delight he inspired with that sound. Together, we laughed for several minutes without trying to stop or to speak. I’m not truly sure what we were laughing about, but I couldn’t stop myself. I hadn’t laughed like that since… I couldn’t even tell you, it had been so long.
Eventually, as do all good things, our chuckles came to an end. The laughter subsided into short bursts and quiet shakes. I wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye and tried to relax my facial muscles, aching from the exertion. I’d laughed so hard, it actually hurt.
Noah’s laughs stopped
abruptly
and
the sudden lack of sound
drew my eyes to his face. His expression
had shifted somehow, from out-of-control laughter to deep
thoughtfulness, like he was about to say something profound. My face fell as I studied him, studying me.
Before I knew what was happening, h
e leaned in and kissed me. The kind
of kiss
that makes your heart
stop beating for a minute.
His
lips were soft and warm, gentle
. Noah pulled me toward him, his arms winding their way around my body. I slid across the bench easily, like I was practically weightless, until, suddenly, our bodies were pressed together. Even sitting, he was taller than me, so my head tilted back as his lips caressed mine.
He placed a hand to support the back of my neck, a
s though aware of how much
it
would ache
tilted at this angle
. With his fingers in my hair and
him all around me like that, my
brain threatened sensory overload.
I wanted him, which I realized with abruptness
—and not just in the stupid fantasies I allowed myself during workouts
. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before, but I guess I'd been too wrapped up in the pursuit of Sean not to realize much of anything. Thinking about Sean didn't even distract me then, something I thought about much later, after I had time to process the fact that I had kissed Noah. But then,
in that moment with Noah,
I just closed my eyes and let myself melt away, thinking only one thought over and over.
Noah was
kissing
me.
Noah
was kissing me.
Wait... Noah was kissing
me
.
And he was kissing me well, too.
When we broke apart, we each drew in a deep breath.
As my lungs refilled with air
, I couldn’t help myself. The giggles broke through again—a silly schoolgirl with a crush on the popular boy in class. I felt foolish and I’m sure my blushing cheeks gave me away.
Noah smiled affectionately
, the occasional chuckle escaping his lips, and shook his head at me.
“You’re a raving lunatic,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose.
The gesture was so intimate, so sweet, that I stopped giggling
in surprise
.
I tried not to gasp, but a tiny bit of air escaped my lips. I wanted to fall into him, squeeze him against me. I could even overlook that we were in a gym
—
of all places
—
and that I was not in any kind of condition to be so close to anyone at all, thanks to that run.
If he thought I smelled bad, he didn't give any indication. And to be honest, if he smelled bad
—
hey, he'd just run the same
route of the Common that
I ha
d, granted it wasn't as much of an exertion for him
—
I didn't notice it either. Instead, I just took in that moment, that sweet exchange, and let it affect me. Overcome, I leaned in to him for more.
Just as our lips met for a second time
, my phone buzzed in my pocket
.
I wanted to chuck it across the room and watch it smash into a million pieces.
"What was that?" Noah asked,
pull
ing away. I have a special phone for the hearing impaired that buzzes pretty violently so you
’
re sure to catch every single call, text, and alert. As it began to buzz a second time, I knew it was an incoming call.
"Forget it, it's just the phone." I leaned forward again, shoving one hand into my pocket to end the incessant buzzing, and very clearly indicated my intentions.
"But it could be Claire," Noah said in the midst of the siege I was laying on his lips. I pulled away, frowning at him. "What if she needs you to go pick her up?"
"Why are you so worried about Claire?" I snapped. Okay, maybe my sister was a hot button with me when it came to men.
I can’t imagine why…
Noah
clearly
couldn’t understand it either
and gave me a critical eyebrow in response. "Fine, fine. I'll answer it."
I spun away from him and got to my feet. A mistake, since my knees had been sufficiently weakened by a certain trainer I know. I flipped open that phone, trying not to stumble, and answered Claire's call. It wasn't a broken ankle, just really sprained, and she'd be out of commission for
three weeks
, the doctors said.
"So stay with me, okay?"
"What? Jen, I can't impose on you like that..." she tried, pointlessly, to argue.
"You live on the fifth floor of a building with an unreliable elevator. Have Tom get some of your s
tuff together and bring you to Mom’s
—uh
,
my
—
place. No arguing." I snapped the phone shut on her and her horrible timing and turned back to Noah. He was just lounging there on the bench, trying to stay occupied and not listen in on my call. Even so, he looked up just as my eyes found their way to him. When they connected across the space between us, the spark was already fading.
"Go take care of Claire," he said kindly, rising to his feet. As he walked to me, I could feel my temperature rising, the blood vessels swelling in my reddening cheeks. So of course, I had to make it awkward.
"Yeah... I should go, I guess," I said, stiffening as he embraced me. It was a halfhearted effort on his part anyway. The moment was gone. Evaporated. I straightened, pulling back from Noah's taut form. "I have to...uh... let her in. To...the... thing."
"Your apartment?" He raised an eyebrow at my lameness but didn't further the issue. Instead, he leaned down for one last quick and gentle kiss, much shorter and with much less passion attached to it. This kiss served as an effective punctuation mark on whatever incredible sentence we had been speaking to each other. Before Claire called, anyway.
"I'll see you tomorrow, same time?" he asked, shifting easily back to Trainer Noah as though he hadn't just made me see stars with the power of his mouth.
I nodded. "I guess it's just me and you, until Claire's back on her feet." I was still seeing
those
stars, so it was impressive that I could string so many wor
d
s together.
"There are worse things," he smirked, handing me my gym bag. I slung it over my shoulder and started backing away toward the door. I gave him a two-fingered wave and pushed my way through the door. He waved back, his eyes never breaking away from mine, not until after I had closed the door behind myself.
Shaken, confused, and extremely turned on, I made myself drive straight home without making an emergency ice cream detour. Claire would smell the sprinkles
on my breath from
a mile away. She might also, I realized, smell the distinctive scent of lies the moment I walked in the door. So instead of thinking about food, I concentrated on how in the hell I was going to act normal around my sister. With
her living in my apartment
, my life could get very difficult if I let it.
No way was I letting her in on what had just happened, not when she was still fuming about Sean.
I tried to wipe away all traces of the post-Noah glow, and stopped for an iced coffee instead of ice cream. If I couldn't take a cold shower when I got home, I could at least drink something to shake out all that cra
zy hot attraction from my system
.
At least until I saw him in the gym the next day, that is.
****
Back at my apartment, Claire and I were
both
mended
up
and working on
our individual
healing process
es
. Granted, I was much better off than she was, seeing as some antiseptic and a bandage had sorted me out.
Three
weeks
w
ould be a long
time to fly solo at the gym
,
b
ut after the day’s activities, I was feeling good about my ability
to ma
k
e
it on my own.
Not to mention, looking forward to all the “private” sessions.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me staying here for a little while?” Claire asked me again, as I placed her dinner on the TV tray in front o
f her. She was stretched out on
my couch, icing her ankle, and I had actually cooked something that was both nutritious and delicious. “If I’m going to be in the way…”