Page 2 of Play On

“During the season I live in Surrey, but when I’m in London, I stay in a hotel if I plan to stay out late.”

“Where your family is from?”

Noah falls silent for a moment. “My mum lives in Kent. My dad passed away when I was sixteen.”

“Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry,” I say, hating that I stumbled onto that subject so early on in getting to know him. “That had to be so hard at such a young age.”

“It’s all right.”

And that’s all he says.

My talkative brain—I’m always talking, so much so that I know a lot of people can’t handle it and discreetly end conversations with me—suddenly goes blank, failing me as to how to move out of the bear trap I’ve just stumbled into with Noah.

“Your parents seem nice,” he says, throwing me a life ring.

“They are. I’m lucky. Nicholas and I are close, too.”

“I have an older brother, but we aren’t close,” Noah confesses. “We’re very different people. Like we wouldn’t choose each other as friends, if that makes sense.”

“I think that’s the magnificent thing about friendships,” I say as we head closer to the spot I want to show him. “With friends, we’reinvitingpeople into our lives, to share them, and that’s a powerful thing. We can choose our family in that sense.”

I can feel his gaze upon me, regarding what I just said. “That’s a brilliant way to look at it.”

I beam in response to his compliment. “Thank you.”

We round another corner and find ourselves in front of the Cupid water fountain. I stop walking, and Noah comes to a halt beside me.

“Because of our conversation about mythology at the beach, I thought you might appreciate seeing the god of love.”

“I still can’t believe you’re into mythology. I’ve never met anyone else who is.”

I nod. “Yes. I love that mythology has served as so much inspiration for artists. One of my favourite paintings isThe Judgement of Parisby Van Balen. The use of colour is so beautiful in it. Have you seen it?”

“I haven’t seen much art, I’m afraid,” Noah says.

“I’m sorry. I studied art history at St. Andrews, so I can go on for hours about it. You should see me go around the house talking about the paintings and sculptures. I can drive anybody mad with it.”

“Why would that drive someone mad?”

I chuckle as I walk over to the stone bench in front of the fountain. I take a seat, and Noah sits down beside me. His muscular thigh brushes against mine, sending a rush of electricity through me from the sensation.

“Noah. I’m sure it’s come to your attention that I talk.A lot,” I emphasise. “Many people find me overwhelming. Then you throw in something I love—like art—and I can drive even the most patient person to insanity.”

“Well, that’s rubbish.”

I blink. The moonlight is dancing across his face, and he’s so beautiful, I find myself losing my breath.

“You’re interesting, Violet. You take the pressure off people who are shy or don’t feel comfortable leading a conversation.”

“Is that you?” I ask quietly.

He flashes me a gentle smile. “You tell me.”

Warmth pools in my cheeks. “You’re on the quiet side, so I’d say yes.”

Now Noah flashes me a grin. “I am. I’ve always been a bit shy with new people. I always observe first. I like to get a feel for people before I try to get to know them.”

“You’re cautious.”

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