Page 5 of Until Then

I don’t let anything get between me and my buddy.

I hurry and send a mad face emoji and tuck my phone away.

My smile widens when Hayley sits across from me and tosses a few torn napkins in the center of the table. “I saw you battling that dispenser. Did you win?”

She cocks her head. “I think it’s safe to say I defeated it. I’ve never had an enemy until today.”

I laugh and help her clean up the small disaster we’ve created on the table.

After a pause, I clear my throat. “So, we’ve gotten everything off the menu.”

“Oh, gosh.” She glances at her phone. “I completely lost track of time. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you all day and?—”

I cover her hand with mine, surprising myself, but it calms her hurried words. “No, I don’t want it to end.” I’m Noah Freaking Hayden. A-lister according to the polls, rumored philanderer—keyword is rumor—and I can hardly summon what to say to ask her out. “I was, uh, I was going to ask you if you’d want to . . . get dessert or something.”

Her cheeks flush a pretty red. “Still have room for more?”

Of you? Yes.

I pop a shoulder. “I live by this seaside sorbet shop. A little mom and pop place, but it’s basically my guilty pleasure. It’s about twenty minutes from here, if you’re up for it.”

For a breath, she seems uneasy.

I take a risk. She doesn’t recognize my face, she knows my name is Noah, but I haven’t said my last name.

In one quick gesture, I pull out my driver’s license and slap it on the table. “Here. Take a picture, send it to someone you know. I swear I’m not taking you away to murder you.”

She looks down at the I.D. and grins. “Exactly what a serial killer might say.”

Still, she snaps a picture, and I watch as she texts the license. Inwardly, I groan. Hayley must not follow the TV show—and I’m not mad about it—but maybe whoever she texted does.

Truth be told, I’m relieved when she tucks her phone deep in her bag before a reply can come in, and flashes me one of those shy smiles I can’t stop wanting.

“All right, Noah Hayden. Take me to the beach.”

THREE

Hayley

Is it possible to fall in love on a first date?

Is this even a date?

Me, with a drop-dead gorgeous guy, still in his running clothes, slurping lemon sorbet off a spoon while we watch the sunset from his penthouse condo.

He keeps saying it isn’t, but this place is absolutely a penthouse.

It’s not the money Noah clearly has, it’s how deliciously humble he’s been all night. Not once did I suspect the man had seaside property that looks like he’s quite accustomed to having an unlimited credit limit.

He’s relaxed.

He’s so . . . easygoing.

Every new thing I learn about him only adds a new puzzle piece into the vibrant picture I think I’ll see at the end.

Noah asked about my horseshoe tattoo on my wrist with my grandpa’s birthday—a memorial to the man who taught me to ride. I know he’s afraid of needles and insists he would pass out even with a micro tattoo.

He’s gotten a glimpse into my Clint Eastwood crush, and I’ve learned his favorite movie is Jimmy Stewart’s,It’s a Wonderful Life.

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