Facing the water is an outdoor free-weight gym, along with a few treadmills and ellipticals. There’s an outdoor bar as well as a fully equipped outdoor kitchen. This place is like a tropical playground for adults. Almost anything that you could want or think of is here.
Noah leads us towards a swinging bench, the rope wrapped in ivy and the bench covered in fluffy white cushions. He takes a seat first, and I sit beside him, acutely aware of the fact that he still has my hand hostage in his large palm.
His eyes meet mine, and I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes.
“Hi,” I say.
He smiles. “Hi.”
We both laugh at our complete awkwardness before hesettles back into the bench with ease and gently begins swinging us.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Good. I mean, this is all… a lot. Definitely not what my day-to-day life usually looks like.”
He tilts his head curiously, his smile never leaving his face. “What does your day-to-day life look like?”
“Work, work and more work,” I say with a bitter laugh.
I notice a cameraman coming up the stairs but try not to act like I see him. Being documented 24/7 for the foreseeable future is going to be a fucking adjustment.
“What about you?” I ask.
“I work a lot too, for a music label out of Nashville.”
“Oh God, you’re one of those country music fans, aren’t you?” I moan. “Well, it was nice knowing you,” I say, moving to stand up.
Noah laughs, pulling me back down as I chuckle.
“Hold on, don’t judge me too harshly. It’s just a job.”
“So you’re saying you don’t enjoy listening to music where someone’s dog ran away, their truck broke down and their wife left them all while carrying a heavy banjo rift?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
He gives me a cheesy grin and shakes his head. “You know, all the songs aren’t like that.”
“I knew it,” I say with a faux disappointed sigh.
“Okay, Miss Music Critic. What do you like to listen to?”
“Well, I’m from Seattle, so it would be a crime if I didn’t say Seattle grunge.”
He lets out a laugh. “You? Really?”
I tilt my head in curiosity as I lean forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just not what I would have guessed.”
I shrug. “Well, you know what they say about assuming.”
Noah watches me for a moment before shaking his head and looking up to the sky.
“What?” I ask.
He’s still laughing when his eyes come back to me. “You’re gonna give me shit again, aren’t you?”
My mouth drops in offense, and I smack his chest. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t secretly love it.”
“Mmmm,” he says, smiling. “I think I would love anything you give me.”
