Page 9 of Lovers in Lockdown

Speaking of, that poor man is still stuck in the hallway wearing nothing but a towel.

I poke my head back out the door. ‘Still up for that pizza?’

He raises his eyebrows, but says nothing.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slammed the door in your face. I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad… around you.’

There his eyebrows go again.

I had no idea that eyebrows could be attractive until Noah raised his at me for the first time earlier. I swear every time he cocks one, my knickers get a little wetter. His naked torso isn’t helping either. The towel is tied low around his hips, exposing the perfect V at the bottom of his abdomen. Becauseof coursehe has a V.This man is every girl’s teenage dream.

‘Can we start over?’ I flutter my eyelids at him, trying to look as sweet as my name.

He doesn’t buy it.

‘Pretty please with pickles on top?’

He drags a hand down his face - he does that a lot, I’ve noticed - and sighs. ‘Sure.’

‘Great, I’m Honey,’ I extend my hand out towards him.

He blinks like he can’t decide what to do with it.

‘Noah,’ he says finally and takes my hand in his. But instead of shaking it like I expect him to, he raises it to his lips and brushes a kiss across my knuckles.

Holy moly.

My breath catches, my body shivers and every inch of my skin breaks out in goosebumps. I can’t look at him. If I look at him and he’s looking at me, I’ll want him to kiss me in other places. Not just my hand. Not even just my lips.

Jesus Christ. Does this man have magic powers that make women want to drop their knickers as soon as he touches them, or is this just a me problem? I need to say something.

Like now.

It’s been a long time since either of us have spoken and he isstill holding my hand.

‘Catholic?’ I manage to ask finally, snapping my hand away like he’s burned it.

‘What?’

‘Are you Catholic? It’s a biblical name, isn’t it? Didn’t Noah build the Ark?’

Yes, this is safe territory. There’s nothing arousing about the Bible.

‘No.’

‘No, what? You’re not Catholic or he didn’t build the Ark?’

‘Not Catholic.’

‘Righto. Weird name choice if you’re not Catholic, that’s all.’

‘You’re one to talk with a name like Honey,’ he says gruffly, but his green eyes are twinkling mischievously and there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that lets me know I’m forgiven.

‘Touché.’

‘Hey, Honey,’ he smiles and this time it’s a full grin that stretches across his face and lights up the whole room. ‘Think I can put some on clothes now?’

‘Do you have to?’

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