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Noah chanced a glance. Back on her feet again. “Grab your ice and let’s go. Fucking sub shop.” He left out the door before he changed his mind.
Out on the street, the sun still shined over the summer evening. Kristina sighed and started back the way they came.
“Where are you going?” Noah asked.
“Oh,” Kristina said, turning. “Um, I figured home?”
Home had privacy. Home had a bed. Home seemed…very, very bad right now. “Ice cream’s this way,” he said, pointing in the other direction. “Unless your hand hurts too much?”
“Pfft,” she said, rolling her eyes. “On my death bed, I will want chocolate in any and every form. Remember that.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Don’t joke about that right now. So, you still game or what?” he asked, her attempt at humor not helping him unwind. Not one bit.
“I guess,” she said, eyeballing him like she could see all the things he thought but didn’t say. “Just didn’t think you would be.”
Noah came close, and leaned down so he could meet her eye to eye. “You want chocolate. I want to give you what you want. Simple as.”
The words hung there, and Kristina blinked up at him as innocently as she could. Because she definitely had wants. And, right or wrong, they didn’t involve anyone named Ben or Jerry. “Anything I wan—”
“I swear to God, Kristina, if you finish that sentence…” He planted his hands on his hips and glared.
She was pretty sure she was supposed to be intimidated right now. Except, all his aggressiveness was doing funny things to her. She’d never seen Noah like this before, and it was making her want to challenge him. Making her want him to lose control. Making her yearn for him to come at her with all that pent-up angst.
Friends. Friends. We’re just friends.
Yeah. Friends whose kisses alone made her wet. Crap.
“Fine, get me ice cream,” she finally said, trying not to pout as she adjusted the ice against the back of her hand. Kristina couldn’t believe she’d been hit by that idiot. If Noah hadn’t been there…if he hadn’t seen what was happening and pulled her out of the way… She shook her head and peered under the ice. Around the bandages, her puffy skin was turning purple.
They started walking. “How’s it feeling?” Noah asked, his tone less intense than it’d been a minute ago.
“Probably a lot like yours did after you punched the wall,” she said. She peered up at him, eyebrow arched. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone there, but damnit, just how many things between them were going to be off the table? “Except you didn’t have me to take care of you after.”
“I’m glad you weren’t there,” he said, but then he took the sharp edge off the words by taking her good hand in his.
“I want to take care of you too, you know. That’s what friends do for each other,” she said, realizing she had her own pent-up frustration that needed venting. Not just of the sexual kind, either, though that was definitely there. Because, holy hell, the way Noah had claimed her in that office had been one of the most incredible moments of her life. Even now, her lips still tingled from his rough, demanding kisses. Kristina had been so lust-drunk that she would’ve welcomed Noah between her thighs right there on sweet Mr. Johnson’s desk.
But there was also her pent-up worry for Noah. Pent-up disappointment in all the times she’d been sure he was avoiding her. Pent-up concern that, even now, he was still holding her at a distance. Despite the fact that he was holding her hand.
Noah didn’t answer her, and they fell quiet as they walked down the hill to the bottom of King Street. The warmth of his big hand around hers offered a nice distraction from the throb of her other hand. The ice had helped, as would some Ibuprofen when she got home, though she was pretty sure the best pain reliever would be the one she couldn’t have—Noah finishing what he’d started. Twice, now. Because she hadn’t even been able to feel the pain in her hand when he’d been kissing her.
Kristina paused when they finally reached the Ben & Jerry’s store. “This bag is starting to leak everywhere. I’m gonna chuck it. I can put more on later if I need to.”
“I’ll take it,” Noah said. He retreated down the sidewalk to the nearest trash can, and Kristina tried really hard not to stare at his ass as he went. But the guy did all kinds of justice to a pair of jeans. And she was horny as hell after her second make-out session of the week with him. And even more confused.
Why did this keep happening? And would it really be such a problem if they let it go even further? Because it was clear there was something between them. Something more than what had ever been there before.
Inside, they got in line and stared up at the board of flavors. “What are you getting?” she asked.
“Cookie dough,” he said.
Kristina smiled up at him. “I think you’ve gotten that every time we’ve ever been here.”
He cocked a playful eyebrow, and it eased the strange tension between them. “Then why did you ask?”
She bumped into him and rolled her eyes. “Because maybe at some point you’ll want to try something new. Smart ass.”
The line moved, and Kristina moved with it. Standing right behind her, Noah said, “But what if I tried something new and didn’t like it as much? What if I tried something new and it messed up my old favorite? Because I couldn’t live without my old favorite.”
