Page 89 of You, with a View

Theo ignores him, stepping closer to me. He slips my phone into my hand, then cups my face in his. His thumb moves over my flushed cheek. “I have a secret, and I should’ve told you earlier.”

“What?”

He shakes his head, grinning. “I fucking knew you could do this. You’re so good, Noelle.”

His confession is a shot of adrenaline to my heart. It starts beating double-time. “Don’t go crazy with the praise, okay? First of all, it’s not like you—”

He lets out a huff of insulted laughter. “What, I’m not me if I’m complimenting you?”

I give him a pointed look, running a hand over his T-shirt clad chest. “Take it down a notch with the conclusion jumping. You can compliment me, you’ve just got to put a little spice in it.”

He course corrects. “You’re so good, it’s annoying.”

I nod, satisfied. “Better.”

“You’re intensely weird,” he says affectionately.

“A little soft on delivery, but otherwise perfect.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing my wrist so he can tow me closer. “You saidfirst of allbefore, so what’s the second of all?”

“Oh, right. Second of all, it’s exciting, but it’s small. And just one job.”

For a beat, he appraises me. “You have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

“I—” I swallow the urge to diminish this moment. I need this win, and I’m going to take it. I’m going to let him see me grab it with both hands. “I feel pretty amazing right now, actually.”

His gaze turns warm and tender. I’m some soft candy melting in the heat of it. “You’re good at this.”

“Hell yeah, I’m good at this.”

That warmth flares into something molten, and his grin grows from small to brilliant. “Let’s go celebrate tonight. Just you and me.”

“What about Paul?”

“Guarantee you he’ll pretend to be too tired to socialize with us later,” Theo says. “And I want you to myself, anyway.”

My heart floats off into space. “Okay.”

His gaze drops to my mouth. “I’m going to kiss the hell out of you now.”

“Okay,” I repeat, dazed.

He does, right in front of Paul and the family of four who’s on the tour with us.

And, I suspect, in front of Gram, too, wherever she is.

Twenty-Five

God, that was good.”

Theo looks over at me, his face shadowed as we cross the dark parking lot, hands clasped. “Request for you to say that later tonight, in exactly that same tone of voice.”

I pull out of his hold, turning so that I’m walking backwards ahead of him. “I don’t take requests. You’re going to have to make me.”

His eyes sweep down my body; I’m wearing the Vegas outfit since I have nothing else. He watched me all through dinner like it was the first time I’d worn it.

We get to the van, and Theo backs me against it until there’s a millimeter of space between us. If I breathed, we’d be touching. I don’t, just to watch his eyes darken.

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