Page 61 of Play On

Aimee is typing …

Finally, her reply drops in:

Let me think on this. NO.

I giggle, and then I hear a rap on the door. I glance up and see Nicholas standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Violet,” he says. “I haven’t seen you since you got back. How was London?”

I give him a side-eye. “You mean what happened with Noah after we left Wisteria House?”

He laughs and moves across the room until he’s at my table. Nicholas pulls out the chair across from me, turns it a bit, and then drops into it, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“Well,Dishing Weeklyhad some holes in their write-up,” he teases.

“Let me go back before I go forward,” I say. “And don’t let this blow up your ego, but you were right. What I did to Noah wasn’t fair. I apologised to him, explained my stupid insecurities, and luckily for me, he was still willing to take a chance on me after all of that.”

He smiles in approval. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too,” I say. “He’s coming down to spend time in Dorset before he has to report back to Stonebridge United in a couple of weeks. He arrives on Wednesday.”

“Is he staying here?”

I think of what Noah said about that and how he wishes to do un-gentlemanly things to me, and decide my idea to ask him to stay here was a poor one indeed.

“Ew, no. I don’t need everyone trying to watch us date.”

Nicholas chuckles at that. “Need I remind you that there are seventy-five rooms in this house?”

I think of Aimee’s answer in regard to Kieran earlier and use it. “Oh, let me reconsider.No.”

We both laugh.

“He’s renting a seaside cottage. I’ve got Maria covering my shifts at the gift shop so I can spend all my time with Noah.”

“You must like him,” Nicholas says, his eyes dancing. “Usually you are tired of a guy after a few days.”

Butterfly.

I blink the hurtful image away from my mind. Because that is my past.

Not now.

“Noah is different,” I say.

“I know he is. I knew it from the second he brought up pick and mix at dinner. You looked at him as if he had suddenly appeared at the table instead of having already been there for hours.”

“It’s hard to believe I met him before that night,” I confess. “Like when we were at Wisteria House, and I was introduced to him for the first time. He was just as gorgeous that night as he is now. But it’s like I didn’t see him at all.”

“That’s probably why he likes you. You didn’t care who he was. Can you imagine how many women he must meet who plot an introduction? Or whose interest is purely driven by him being a footballer?”

“You probably have a point. My complete indifference was refreshing,” I tease. “But that night at Wisteria House was interesting for you, too, because you and Amelia despised each other then.”

Nicholas rakes a hand through his dark hair, a sheepish smile passing over his face. “True.”

I glance at my laptop. I need to discuss my ideas and plans with him.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I ask.

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