Page 36 of One Killer Night
“Good.”
I take a step back, my fingertips skimming over her knees as I admire my meal.
“What do I get for a snack?” Her voice is the embodiment of sex.
“I’ll make you a grilled cheese when I’m done.”
I slide my hands up the inside of her thighs before gripping them and jerk her to the edge of the counter. She shrieks, her palms smacking the counter before I dip my shoulder, flinging her directly over it.
“What are you doing?” she squeals, laughing, her hands hitting my lower back.
“Job security, killer.”
Chapter Eight
Goldie
December
“A dunk tank?”
I say it mostly to myself, but Noah nods. “Yeah, and I plan to spend every cent I have in my wallet right here.”
Our heads turn at the same time, our eyes locking, a shit-eating grin on his face as he adds, “It’s for a good cause.”
When Noah invited me to the “little Christmas market” thing Chase was participating in, I never anticipated arriving at the set of aGilmore Girlswinter festival.
Besides the ball pit dunk tank that said best friend is currently fighting for his life in, every carnival ride a person could imagine litters the wintry park square, surrounded by stark trees strung up in lights. Rows of quaint vendors are sprinkled over cobblestone streets, selling trinkets and jewelry, adorned with cute hand-drawn signs that readA portion of the proceeds go to Feeding America.
All set in the neighborhood next to our first date.
I shake my head as we move up in the long line we’re standing in for a chance to dunk Chase. Which I can’t help but notice is made up mostly of women.My money’s on his exes.
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this event ...” I pause to smile, only because Noah’s hand slips into mine. “How have I lived here, for ... like, ever and been missing out on this?”
Noah grins down at me.
“Because it started this year, that’s how.” My forehead wrinkles with curiosity as he continues. “Chase was doing some chef guy meeting with a bunch of other restaurant owners in the area, and I guess the conversation led to the local food banks and Christmas, so they decided to raise some money.” He shrugs. “I just put them in touch with Feeding America because I did some pro bono work for their website.”
“Just put them in touch” . . . shrug . . . “pro bono work” . . . shrug . . .
Jesus, this man’s a master class in humility and sex appeal. My stomach does that little flip it’s been doing more and more over the last few weeks.
Which is dangerous because everyone always says to date someone who likes you more than you like them, but unless Noah’s totally obsessed with me the way Bill Nye likes science, I’m fucked.
I think I started falling for him the night we met. And now I’ve found myself doing that thing girls do who are down bad. I find ways to bring him up in every conversation, making my sister hate me. I also go about my days at my new job pretending that I’m not daydreaming about him.
Except I am. A lot.
Worse yet, he’s spent almost every night at my house since the first time we rang that dinner bell. The urge to let him leave a toothbrush behind feels seriously intrusive.
This crush is crushing me into a lovesick fool.
I’m still staring up at him, lost in thought. But I can’t help it because he’s fine as hell and pretending not to notice me. It’s cute.
Noah lazily tilts his head before narrowing his eyes on me.
“You’re such a little stalker.” He leans down closer. “Wanna sneak in my window later and do dirty things?”
