Page 41 of Play On

“Okay, thank you.” I smile at her before I pick up my latte and take a sip, savouring the taste of creamy oat milk and rich hazelnut blended together for a delicious coffee. “This is fantastic,” I declare, setting the oversized cup back down onto the saucer. “Yum.”

Noah takes a sip of his flat white and nods. “This place has great coffee. I wish they’d open a location in Surrey. I’d make that a daily stop if they did.”

“You can go ahead and eat your scone,” I encourage. “Don’t wait on me.”

“Violet. I can wait.”

“But you don’t need to. And it’s chocolate and orange, one of the best flavour combos in the world. Go on, I insist you have a bite. Actually, I’ll consider it an affront if you don’t.”

“An affront?” Noah asks, looking incredibly amused now. “How is that an affront?”

“Hmm. Good point. It’s not, but it sounded really good in my head before I said it.” I pick up my cup and take another sip of coffee.

Noah’s eyes lock on my face. “This is why I’m here.”

I furrow my brow. “Because I say things that don’t make sense?”

He laughs. Loudly. And once again, I relish the fact that I made him do so.

“That’s exactly it. I’ve never met anyone like you, Violet. You’re uniquely you. From these freckles,” he says, leaning across the table and running his index finger carefully down the slope of my nose, “to the non-stop chatter to saying things that don’t work in a sentence. I’m here for all of this.”

My breath catches in my throat. Noah means every word he says. He’s zeroed in on things that make me unique, down to the smallest detail, and he celebrates them.

“I have to tell you about a book,” I blurt out.

Instead of looking confused by this sudden turn in conversation, Noah simply nods. “Okay. Tell me about a book,” he says.

“Noah, after I pushed you away”—I wince, hating that I was so stupid to do that in the first place—“I found a book in our library. I had decided I was going to catalogue all the books, you see. I began going through them, and I discovered it’s a Banfield thing to write something on the inside cover. Like your name and the date, for example. I found them from all different decades, including one that was about mythology. A lord had given it to a lady, even though ladies weren’t supposed to have interests like that back then. He wrote about liking her exactly the way she was. And Noah? She’s the only other red-haired woman in the Banfield lineage.”

Noah’s eyes widen.

“I know!” I continue. “When I found that book, I knew it was a sign that I had messed up. That you seemed to like me the way I was, and I had no reason to think you would change your mind once you really got to know me.”

“That’s crazy,” he says. “And the book was mythology.”

“Yes.”

“Definitely a sign.”

“I agree. That’s why I had to tell you before I forgot. Because I do that, Noah. My brain is rushing with so many thoughts and things I want to share that sometimes I can’t remember them all.”

His mouth curves up in a playful smile. “I can see that.”

“Oh shut up,” I say, grinning. “But I wanted you to know this. And I took the risk of telling you so soon, even though it might freak some guys out.”

Noah’s expression doesn’t change. “I promise you it doesn’t freak me out. And neither do you.”

Ooh!

The waitress returns to our table, placing a huge plate of brioche french toast in front of me. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” I say, smiling at her.

She nods and leaves us, but instead of picking up my cutlery so I can immediately dig in, I look at Noah—only to find he’s already looking at me.

“I want you exactly the way you are, Violet,” he says, reaching across the table and trailing his fingers underneath my chin. Then he leans forward and presses a sweet, brief kiss on my lips. “And I don’t anticipate that changing.”

Then he leans back in his seat and breaks off a piece of his scone, popping it into his mouth and smiling at me.

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