Page 59 of Alive At Night

Noah’s lips curved even further, his grin a reminder of how handsome he was—in and out of his jersey. “Like I said…fate.”

“Do you mean karma?” I asked, raising a brow. “Because I did have a rebellious streak when I was younger, so maybe this is retribution for my wrongdoings.”

Noah laughed, eyes twinkling as he looked over at me, but he didn’t seem entirely convinced. Luckily, he kept from arguing the point further, and we fell into a companionable silence while strolling through Boston.

Things with Noah were easy. We didn’t have much in common, but he still had that charm I remembered from college that translated into relaxed conversations and a sense of ease. It gave me hope for the wedding, which was close enough now that the ball of anxiety grew in my stomach every time I thought about it.

When he stopped in front of my apartment, Noah turned to face me. His eyes flicked over my face, and I grew warm, even considering the brisk fall air. Noah studied me closely, an obvious assessment that made me wonder what he was thinking. I probably wasn’t half as pretty as the girls he usually took out for drinks, but he was far too nice to ever let me realize that.

I opened my mouth to excuse myself, not wanting him to think I expected anything more than a whispered good night, when he cut me off.

“For the record, Juniper.” His voice was soft. “I would kiss you if I knew it wouldn’t cause problems with your coworker.”

“Oh, I—”

He put a finger to my lips. “Trust me on this one. Okay?”

All I could really do was whisper in reply.

“Okay.”

* * *

I was right.

I should have done more to keep last night from ending.

My morning so far had been unforgiving. So much so that I was tempted to call in sick. Or ask if I could work from home.

But I didn’t do either of those things. Giving up wasn’t on the to-do list for today. Instead, I picked up coffee for a handful of my colleagues—Julian included with his dreadful plain order—along with a menagerie of pastries before heading into the office. And after I’d delivered my morning treats to those who were already there—Julian was not, of course—I returned to my car. Two of my favorite houseplants, a peace lily and a pothos, sat in my trunk.

Julian would be annoyed. And that was fine. Perfect, actually. He could spend the morning pestering me about my plants invading our office, the donut powder coating our keyboards, and how I bought Cameron coffee again. He could scowl and call me all those flower nicknames he loved so much and forget about last night. He could forget about the weekend.

And we would forget everything.

Everything except what we already knew.

I’d still help him with the case if he needed it, but I enjoyed that kind of work, so it wasn’t a big deal.

“How was the rest of your date with Noah?”

Goddamnit. It had been hours now, and Julian hadn’t said a word about my plants. He hadn’t said anything about the coffee and donuts exceptthank you, and he hadn’t called me Daisy once. Not once.

Of coursewhen he finally decided to open that annoying mouth of his, it was to ask that. He’d tossed the question into the office without even looking away from his computer. I barely heard it over my audiobook, though I had the volume low while I picked at my lunch.

The last thing I needed was for Julian to overhear and add my books to his list of things he pestered me about.

I pressed Pause and cleared my throat. “It wasn’t a date.”

Julian swiveled in his desk chair, seeming taken aback by my sharp tone.

“Okay…” He grappled with finding words for a moment. “Then, how was the rest of yournightwith Noah?”

I busied myself with watering the moonflower, using a desk-sized watering can I’d found at the farmer’s market last year. “I don’t want to talk about Noah.”

The rustle of movement behind me should have been my clue, but I still jumped when I turned to find Julian standing a breath away.

“Did he do something?”

---