“Adrian,” I repeated, committing the name to memory.
Noah. Julian. Adrian.
Noah unlocked a bright red front door before holding it open for me, and I slipped past him into the duplex.
It was like walking into a forest when the air freshener assaulted my nose, and I slid off my shoes at the entryway while peeking around the corner at his living space.
A couch. A few not-super-comfy-looking chairs. A coffee table, a couple end tables, and a TV mounted on the wall.
No pictures. No doodads. Just a Rubik’s cube on the coffee table with some scattered papers, and a few take-out menus arranged tastefully on the end table.
Maybe it was the distinct lack ofthings, but Noah’s living room felt twice as big as one I would’ve expected in a duplex this size. It could’ve fit two of my dorm room.
Noah strode to the coffee table. He gathered up the papers and tucked them in a folder. “Work documents. Have a seat.”
“Thanks. Nice place.”
I admired the cushiness of the taupe carpet under my pink socks as I stepped further inside. Scratching at my elbow, I glanced around at the bare walls. Maybe he hadn’t lived here long enough to decorate yet.
Noah tucked the folder under his arm and gave the living room his own assessing look. “I haven’t given it much thought, but this is temporary. I’m hardly here, with all the traveling and my work hours.”
That made sense, even if it did little to sate my curiosity.
“It’s still early for food, so wanna watch a movie first?” I asked. I eyed the menus and wondered if it was too late to suggest takeout so Noah didn’t have to witness my nonexistent cooking skills.
“Why don’t you pick one out?” Noah handed me a TV remote and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the screen. “Ah, I have to take this. I’ll make sure I have something we can make a meal out of, too.”
“Sounds good.” I headed for the couch and got comfortable as Noah disappeared through a swinging door that must’ve been to the kitchen.
“Kincaid,” he answered sharply before the door swung shut and muffled the rest of the conversation.
I wasn’t too proud to admit that I snooped a little into Noah’s Netflix profile—which was disappointingly labeled as simply “Netflix.” His list consisted of documentaries and critically acclaimed, award-winning movies sprinkled in with a few foreign films. It was the type of stuff I’d tune into if I was looking to nap an afternoon away. But his recently watched list was the polar opposite, filled with action movies and comedies.
I scrolled through the options, hunting for something interesting—but nottoointeresting, because I was sitting on a perfectly good couch that was just itching to be corrupted—before I settled on a documentary following the migration patterns of pandas.
Perfect.
Noah came back a few minutes later, slipped off his blazer, and joined me on the couch without a word.
I shifted around to get comfortable, pulling my legs up to tuck under my butt. Noah sat a whole cushion away from me, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to cause concern.
I cleared my throat, not liking the abrupt change in mood. “Everything okay?”
He glanced over, and the pinched lines between his brows smoothed out. “Fine. Everything’s just fine.”
It didn’tsoundfine. “If you need to make a call—”
“No.” Noah used a hand to stretch his neck side to side. He shook his head and gestured to the TV. “It’s taken care of. Now, what are we watching? Wildlife documentary?”
I frowned, wanting to know what made him tense up like that, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. So, when he offered a lousy excuse for a smile, I let it go and gave him a brief rundown on the panda shenanigans we had in store for us.
It wasn’t ten minutes later that I was snuggled up against Noah’s side with his arm around me while we watched a panda test another bamboo stalk to see if it was too dry. Noah relaxed enough to trace his fingers along my shoulder, and it was far too distracting to be healthy.
As interesting as panda eating habits were, the following fifteen minutes felt more like hours because the urge to kiss Noah kept growing stronger. He was right here, we were alone, and my body was hyperfocused on the places his body was touching mine.
“I have a confession,” I said after Noah mentioned his concern over a panda getting too close to another panda’s territory. I wet my lips, took a deep breath, and hooked a leg over Noah’s lap until I was straddling him on the couch. Miraculously, I didn’t overshoot and go flying onto the floor. “I picked this so we could make out during it.”
Noah’s eyes lit with amusement, and I rested my hands comfortably on his chest.
