“I’m wearing grandma panties and a nice shirt for Zoom calls.”
“Damn. How am I supposed to focus on work now? I need an urgent call.”
An incoming videocall from Noah sends me spiraling. He never video calls me. He never even texts me in this capacity.
I see his face the moment I accept the call, a giant shiner adorning a nearly shut eye and a cut over his brow. Still, he has on a big smile.
“Hi,” I squeak.
“Hi.”His voice is rough and even a little shy.“I love your blouse.”
“Thanks.” I swallow saliva because I want to tell him how much I love seeing his face on the screen. “What happened at the site?”
He glances around before replying.“Nothing big, thank god. Just a few punks deciding to play rough and show that the neighborhood is theirs.”
“Don’t they realize that you’re trying to make it better?”
His chuckle is tired.“Masters will try explaining it to them.”
“Ah. The mysterious Dante. I thought he was your foe.”
“He is what he needs to be.”His eyes drop down to the screen as if he can see below it. When they come back up to my eyes, a lopsided, naughty smile nearly melts me into a puddle.“Are they on?”
“Big and unsexy. Yes.” I can’t help the slow smile spreading over my face.
His face turns dreamy.“Can’t wait to see them.”Someone calls his name, and he turns toward the sound for a second.“I gotta go, Bea. I’ll call you later.”
Without waiting for my reply, he hangs up. O-kay. I guess. I can’t say I’ve had much experience in relationships besides the ones that my parents pushed on me, but I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to wish each other something sweet when we finish a phone call.
Relationship? Are we in a relationship?
34
Bea
I haveno idea what to call this thing between us, and I like labeling things. The unknown gives me anxiety, and anxiety makes me spiral.
I throw the pillow across the room in frustration and stand up, needing to do something—anything—to get Noah King out of my head. I storm into the bathroom and turn the shower to scalding, stripping off my clothes with jerky movements. Maybe I can wash away the memory of his touch, the lingering scent of him on my skin even after the shower I’ve already taken.
The hot water beats down on my shoulders, but it doesn’t help. All I can think about is Noah in this same shower last night, water running over his big, bruised body, blood from his cut trickling down the drain. I close my eyes and immediately regret it, because now I’m imagining him here with me, his hands sliding around my waist, his lips on my neck?—
“Stop it!” I snap out loud, my voice echoing against the shower tiles. “Get a grip, Bea.”
I finish my shower quickly and wrap myself in a towel, avoiding my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. I can’t look at myself right now—can’t face the woman who’s pathetically pining over her boss after one night of… what? Hot sex? I’ve never had a one-night stand, so I don’t know how to deal with that. Was it a one-night stand? What was that?
I hear my phone chime from my bed. Maybe another message from Noah that can help me get back on track? Instead, it’s Maeve again.
“Noah’s not coming tonight,so you don’t have to suffer through a dinner with the dude you hate so much, right? So I’ll see you tonight.”
My stomach dropsto my toes. Having dinner with my sister, her know-it-all husband, and Martin who knows everything about everyone is not ideal in my situation, but it doesn’t feel like I have a choice. I can’t avoid Maeve forever.
“I can’t. I’m sick.”
“Bullshit.Ezra told me you were fine on a call before.”
I curse my gossipy brother-in-law.
“Food poisoning. It just hit.”
