My head whipped back around, and I cleared my throat to break up the sleep clogging it. “What?”
“He told me to give you this.” She slid off her bed and held out a folded piece of paper that I quickly accepted.
“And I picked up our mail this morning. Yours is on the desk,” Teresa said conversationally. She nodded toward a small stack of envelopes, and her lips twitched. “Seems like you already picked up some male of your own, though.”
I sent her a dry look while unfolding the note.
Noah’s penmanship was flawless.
E,
I apologize for falling asleep here last night. The injury must’ve affected me more than I thought, and I appreciate you looking after me.
Don’t worry about my nose. These things happen, and it’s not broken.
I have plans with friends this morning, but I’d like to see you again this weekend. Interested in going to the basketball game tomorrow?
Text me,
N
I winced a bit at both his apology and gratitude when it was my fault his nose took a beating and he’d fallen asleep here.
“Well?” Teresa asked impatiently. “Aren’t you going to text him?”
I scowled up at her. “You read this?”
She just grinned cheekily back.
I folded the note, frowning. “Did he say anything else when he left?”
Maybe something about calling the police because I drugged him?
“Not a word. All he did was ask me to give you that, and then he was outta here,” she said. She grabbed a gym bag and headed for the door with a glance over her shoulder. “And now I’m outta here. I’m gonna get a workout in before we cater this afternoon. Be ready to go at two?”
“Sure,” I answered distractedly, unfolding the note and reading it again.
He wanted to see me again. The butterflies sighed happily.
Teresa slipped out of the room before the door auto-locked with a resoundingclick. I lasted about two seconds before pulling out my phone and texting Noah that I’d love to go to the game with him tomorrow.
With that sent, I let out a breath and mentally went through the events of the night before.
“Could’ve been worse, Emma,” I muttered reassuringly to myself. I set the note on my nightstand. “You could’ve accidentally murdered him.”
Part of me was relieved, too. Maybe Noah never had to know I’d drugged him.
Offering Mr. Elephant my sincerest apology for last night, I placed him back on his throne of pillows before checking my phone for messages. A voicemail and text awaited from my mother, both telling me to check the email she’d sent with videos of some German pianist’s recitals to review.
There was another text from Scott to let me know he had a cold and wouldn’t be manning the coffee cart this weekend—but not to worry because some girl would be covering for him.
I made a mental note to use the café nearby as my coffee source for the weekend. It was appointed as my backup within the second day of moving here.
I didn’t like change.
After skimming through fourteen crude texts from Teresa, I plugged in my phone to charge and got out of bed to flip through the small stack of mail.
Credit card offers, food delivery promotions, and the latest issue ofInternational Piano.
