Page 41 of When in Rome

And then she grins. “…I kissed your forehead.” She pauses to stare at my mouth, a memory sparking in her eyes. She looks sharply up at me. “Because I wanted to kiss your mouth but knew you were too drunk.”

Mouth. Eyes. Mouth. Eyes. Mouth. Eyes. That’s the pattern of my gaze. The urge of my body is chanting,Do it! Kiss her.I already know it would be so good. And now it’s my turn to squirm. I lightly clear my throat and scratch the side of my neck, standing back up and hearing alarm bells sound in my head. I shouldn’t be tempting whatever this is. There’s no future for us—and I’m not into casual. Nothing has changed. I still have to stay in this town, and she still has to go eventually.So just knock it off, Noah.

“I’m sorry I asked last night. Shouldn’t have because I’m still not looking for anything romantic.”Lies.

For a fraction of a second, Amelia really does look wounded. Her eyebrows twitch into the beginnings of a frown. But she wipes it away quickly and recovers. “Who said anything about romance? It was just a forehead kiss, Noah. Plain and simple. Innocent at best. And you would have never asked me if you were sober—so it’s fine.”

My instinct is to bat that placative shit out of the park, but I can tell she’s saying it as a mercy to me, so I let it land between us and become the barrier it was intended to be. I wish it didn’t make me like her more. Respect her more.

“Well, thank you for this.” I hold up my palm showing her thebandage. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me last night and all the glass, too.”

She smiles softly. “It’s no problem. Besides, romance or not, it’s nice to know that you think I’m pretty and sweet.” She blinks playfully. “Like powdered sugar.”

And that’s my cue to leave. With another groan, I take my mug with me toward the bathroom. She follows, like a puppy nipping at my heels. “Is it really true, Noah? Does the Grumpy Pie Shop Owner really think I’m sweet like powdered sugar?”

I try to shut the bathroom door, but she sticks her foot in the way so I can’t close it. I set the mug on the counter and look down at her. “Right now you’re just a pain in my ass,” I say, not realizing until I glance in the mirror that I said it with an overly indulgent smile.

She angles her chin up to me. “But you think I’m aprettypain in the ass?” She says it softer this time, still playful but her tone conveys what she’s really asking. She wants to know if I meant what I said. I guess I’ll be walking a tightrope for the remainder of the time Amelia is under my roof. I like her. She likes me. And we have intense chemistry between us that I can’t indulge.

I hold her gaze and take a deep breath. “Everyone thinks you’re pretty. You know this.”

She doesn’t let me off the hook. “But doyou?”

My eyes drop for a fraction of a second to her mouth, and I remember all too well how much I wanted that kiss last night, and still feel the desire today. “I always mean what I say.” I teeter a little on the tightrope. “Now, can we let it go and act like adults about all this?”

She laughs lightly. “That’s way too much to ask.” She turns away, grabbing hold of the bathroom door and pulling it closed behind her. But just before she shuts it, she peeks her head back in, eyes falling unashamedly over my chest and torso before looking in my eyes again. “But just so you know, I think you’re pretty, too.”

She shuts the door, and I don’t want to, but I smile again.

Chapter 19

Amelia

Noah and I hitchhiked into town. Hitchhiked! He left his truck near the shop last night, so after he finished his shower and came out of the bathroom smelling like a divine being from the depths of a woodland forest, he asked if I’d like to check the first item off my list. We walked down to the road to hitch a ride into town.

It wasn’t as thrilling as I had hoped, though. Despite using the wordshitch a ridehe had already called his friend James and asked him to pick us up at the end of the driveway. So now I’m sandwiched between two beautiful men and bobbing my way into town, fully intending on telling Susan that I hitchhiked during my time away and allowing her to conjure up fantasies of me in an 18-wheeler beside a big burly man with tattoos and a lecherous smile.

James is nice, though. He has a sunny disposition and wants to know how I’m enjoying my time away from the big-city life. He’s full of ideas of places I should explore and things I should do while I’m here. Most of his sentences start like this: “Oh, Noah! You know what she should do?…” And “Noah! You oughtta take herto…” I’m realizing that he seems to think Noah and I are a package deal, and for some reason, I’m not mad aboutit.

Noah, however, is back to his grunty self—pressing himself against the truck door so our arms don’t brush. Yesterday I would have thought it was because he found me annoying. Now, after the Kiss Request, there’s a new piece of this puzzle falling into place and it looks like Noah telling me I’m pretty and sweet.I’m powdered sugar.I don’t think he hates me after all. I think he likes me a little and that scares him.

James drops us off at the front of the town square with a little wave, saying he’s headed out of town to take an order of produce to a local market. When his truck drives off, it’s just me and Noah, standing here like two phone poles.

I bite the corner of my mouth and look for something to say, because I’ve realized I can’t wait for Noah to speak first or we’ll become silent monks. “So…what store shouldwe—”

“The flirty stuff between us has to stop,” he blurts.

I laugh incredulously. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

If someone was watching us from a distance, they would think Noah is standing on a tack. “You and me. Flirting. Or whatever that was this morning…it has to stop. We’re not—we’re friends. That’s all.”

“Noah.” I turn to fully face him and make some serious eye contact. “You have to stop worrying. I’m not looking for a relationship either. We are allowed to be two adults who talked about kissing that don’t plan on doing it again, and to admit that the other is attractive without jumping into a romantic relationship.”

Some of the tension in his face melts away. He nods thoughtfully. “Okay. I just didn’t want to lead youon.”

I sort of want to burst out laughing. I love that he treats me like this…as if I’m just a normal woman he met when her car broke down in his front yard. Most men wouldn’t have the guts to saysomething like that to me. Wouldn’t have the guts to turn me down in the first place. There’s no pressure with Noah, and although I could totally see myself falling for him if I lived in this town, I know that my life will come calling shortly and I’ll have to go. Friendship works better.

“Thank you. And for that, I think you’re as sweet as maple syrup.” He groans and rolls his eyes when he realizes I’m teasing him again, and he begins walking away from me, one booted foot at a time. I continue, “Not quite powdered sugar, of course, but don’t worry! If you try hard enough, you’ll achieve my highest level of sweetness!”