Twenty-One
Noa
You write books with explicit sex scenes in them, Noa. You can bring up a freaking kiss.
One of us had to broach the subject. I planned on leaving tomorrow and going back to my apartment in Manhattan. I had a manuscript to finish. My new editor had loved what I’d sent her. She’d raved about it on the phone, anxious for more. But how was I going to leave with this … weirdness between us?
Sure, I was going to relive that kiss forever—and maybe even in death. But this thing with us, I wanted to hold on to. Ransom. He was what I wanted to hold on to. Not a thing or feeling. A person. A man. One I feared who owned me. All the parts. He had them. Even if he didn’t want them.
I stared down at the tea steeping in my cup while he placed our food order. When he was done, I would just blurt it out. That it hadn’t changed anything. I was still the same. We didn’t haveto act so tense—or maybe that was just him. He was definitely acting different. Maybe I was too.
When he ended the call, I looked up from the cup, and his eyes met mine. A tight smile that didn’t meet his eyes made my stomach knot up. Yep, I had to do a quick save here.
Just say it, Noa.
I took a deep breath and blurted out, “So, about that kiss. Can we pretend it didn’t happen? I mean, it was a vulnerable moment, and you were there with me. It happened when you knew I needed comfort. Like a friend. There is this”—I paused and waved a hand between us—“awkwardness now. Let’s not do that.”Because I can’t lose you.
He bit his bottom lip, then released it, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s my fault. I’m, uh … I wasn’t sure how to navigate after that or what you were thinking.”
Be yourself. Keep it light. Make him relax.
I shrugged and picked up my cup. “Oh, me? I was trying to decide on our wedding colors,” I said, then took a sip as I stared at him over the rim with an amused grin.
He narrowed his eyes at me, then chuckled. “Okay, fine. You made your point.”
I set the cup down. “So, spring or summer then? For the wedding. That does impact the colors, you know.”
The smirk on his lips eased me, and I took my first deep breath as the tightness began to let go.
“You’re a smart-ass,” he told me.
I gave him a mock horrific expression. “Who, me? Surely, you don’t mean that. I’m a delightful companion.”
Ransom crossed his arms over his chest and watched me with amusement. “All right, Shakespeare, you got your point across.”
I pretended to wipe the nonexistent sweat from my forehead. “Whew. I was worried you weren’t catching on.”
He laughed a deep, husky sound that gave me goose bumps.“In my defense, your lips are hard for a man to see past, and I’m not always good with words. I went with what I knew to … help.”
I nodded. “If by help, you mean to distract, bravo, you did an excellent job.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “I’m used to my kissing having a bigger impact on women. They tend to get clingy … and naked.”
Oh, I would have gotten naked if he’d asked.
I frowned. “Huh? Didn’t have that effect on me. Lucky you.”
His eyes darkened, and my heart rate sped up. Forgetting this was an attempt to fix things. Get them back to our normal platonic interactions.
“Don’t toss out challenges like that, Shakespeare. I’m too competitive.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. As if he had someone to compete with. He had won before he ever kissed me.
“I see. Well then, we shall pretend that I struggled to keep from ripping my shirt off and begging you to take me,” I replied. “Better?”
He groaned and dropped his hands back to his sides and walked toward the fridge. “Let’s change the subject,” he said. “I need a beer. You want one?”
The kiss had affected him. He wasn’t hiding that well.