Page 37 of Mr. Picture Perfect
I squint at him, confused. “Then … Then why haven’t you said anything to him?”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
I blink. What does he mean by that?
My phone complains at me again with a sad little chime. I look down at it, then sigh. “Nothing’s going right today. All I needed to do was bring my questions, ask them, and record your answers. But I showed up with the wrong notebook, a dead battery, and no clue anymore why I’m here at all.” I pocket my phone and squeeze my notebook with increasing frustration. “If I was a responsible person, I wouldn’t have let you talk me into doing this at all. It’s a mistake. It should’ve been Tamika here. Not me.”
“Wait, wait … Noah.”
“I’ll just go home. Sorry for wasting your time. Enjoy the rest of your morning with your dog.” I turn to make my way back.
Cole rushes in front of me. “Aren’t you the least bit curious who I was talking about earlier?”
I sigh. “Do you have any idea how mad Burton’s gonna be?”
“Our interview isn’t ruined. Noah, I’m trying to tell you—”
“He’s looking foranyexcuse to get rid of me, and now—”
“Hey, there’s this beautiful invention called e-mail. You can shoot me the questions when you get home, I’ll type up answers, it’ll be pain-free and devoid of the social interaction you despise. Easy as banana cream pie, alright?”
“Cole …”
“You never answered my question earlier.”
“What question?”
“What do you want in a guy?”
I notice Cole’s dog has settled down, no longer tugging on his leash to run off, but sitting by his side instead and staring up at me expectantly, as if wondering the answer to Cole’s question, too. Or she’s just patiently waiting to go to the park and couldn’t care less.
I gnaw on my lip as I drop my gaze to the pavement. For some reason, I find myself actually giving his question thought.
Maybe the answer is important to me.
“I want someone who won’t be indecisive like me. A guy who knows what he wants. Says what he wants. I want a guy in my life who will take the lead. Who can show me confidence in his wordsandhis actions.” I let out a breath. “I want a guy who will … who will show me how to no longer be afraid.”
Then I meet Cole’s eyes, my answer finished.
He seems to be processing what I said.
His lips pucker in thought as he considers me, his eyes never leaving my face. “Sounds like you need me to make the first move. Well, Noah Reed … how’s this for a first move? I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. Since I can even remember. And seeing as you want a guy who shows you confidence in his wordsandactions …”
Cole takes hold of the back of my head, brings my face to his, and presses his lips against mine like his life depends on it.
Chapter 8
Cole
“Please sit still, you’re fidgeting worse than a two-year-old.”
I stare into the eyes of my makeup artist Mindy, a good friend of Billy Tucker-Strong’s. It’s all I can do to keep from obsessing about yesterday—and what I did to poor Noah.
Did I really kiss him?
Did I really just confess my feelings, too?
What in the hell kind of melodrama land do I think we live in?
