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Maybe she should pick up some dinner to take over to his place…
“Bye, Miss Moore,” two girls from her fourth period class called, giggling and whispering conspiratorially between themselves.
“Bye, girls. Have a good night,” she said, giving them a smile. Not even dinner and drinks with Kate on Sunday night had cheered her up. At least, not all the way. Because Kate’s question had been weighing on her mind, and she still didn’t have a good answer to it.
Kristina rounded the corner of the building and glanced toward the parking lot.
Noah.
Leaning against the driver’s door to her car. He hadn’t spotted her yet, so she took a minute to drink him in. He wore blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt and a pair of bad-ass black sunglasses. Together with his dark hair, he was tall, dark, and handsome personified.
Or maybe that should be tall, dark, and brooding.
Either way, it made her sigh with longing.
Noah finally glanced up and saw her standing there, so Kristina closed the distance between them. “What are you doing here, silly man?” she asked, hoping she sounded normal.
“Delivering a peace offering.” He slid off his sunglasses and held out a small, dark blue cooler bag.
“A peace offering?” Relief curled into her belly. She hadn’t been the only one worried about the tension between them then. Kristina smiled uncertainly as she accepted it from him and rested it on the hood of her car so she could unzip it. Four pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream—Hazed and Confused, Americone Dream, Chocolate Therapy, and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, naturally. She laughed and warmth filled her chest. “Unnecessary but very appreciated.”
Fingers just barely caressed the bottom of her chin, urging her to look up. “No. Very necessary. I was an asshole. And you were right to be pissed about that. I’m sorry.”
His apology caught her off-guard. “I actually thought you were mad at me,” she said.
He frowned. “Why would I be mad?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought…maybe…I’d been inconsiderate.”
Noah shook his head. “You weren’t. Not at all, Kristina. That was all me. And it’s time I try to get my shit together.”
Kristina studied his eyes, which somehow looked a little lighter despite the circles underneath. “Meaning?”
“I signed up for a class at your art school. For starters, I guess,” he said, dropping his gaze.
“You did?” He nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. “That’s so awesome!”
He kicked the toe of his shoe against the asphalt. “We’ll see. Makes me feel a like a kid signing up for arts and crafts, but—” Noah shrugged. “—whatever. I’ll give it a try. I gotta give something a try.”
Kristina nodded, happiness and affection making her grin. She knew it couldn’t be easy for a guy trained to kill you in fifty-two different ways to walk into an art therapy class, but everything on that flyer had been for active-duty or veterans, so he wouldn’t be the only highly trained killer wielding a pen…or a paintbrush…or whatever. Speaking of which… “What class did you register for?”
He nudged the cooler. “Have a reverse dinner with me? And I’ll tell you all about it.”
“You got it,” she said. “Hop in.”
Twenty minutes later, they were finding a spot in the grass at Gravelly Point, a park along the Potomac River that sat right across a small inlet from the runway at Reagan International Airport. Picnicking in the park, the planes took off and landed right over your heads, making it a fun place to hang out, walk, or catch some rays. She and Noah had been going there for years.
Noah spread a blanket on the grass and they both sprawled out on their stomachs, which was a little awkward for Kristina in her pale blue jersey wrap dress, but the sun felt so good she didn’t care.
“What do you want to start with?” Noah asked, unzipping the cooler. He reached in and produced a spoon, which he handed to her.
“Ooh, look at you, Boy Scout,” Kristina said. “I’ll start with some Chocolate Therapy. It’s the last week of school, after all, and the kids are climbing the freaking walls.”
Noah pulled out his old favorite and tugged off the lid. “I remember that. The last week of school always seemed so pointless. Exams were over. Grades were in. And yet we were still stuck in school.”
“Pretty much,” Kristina said, opening her pint. The ice packs in the cooler had mostly done their job, but the ice cream was just a little soft, making it easy to get a nice big scoop. “Mmm, this is so good.” She swallowed and gestured with her spoon. “And I need the downtime so I can finish getting my course materials together for my short story class. Speaking of which, tell me about this class you’re taking.”
He poked around at his ice cream for a minute, and then finally said, “It’s a mask-making workshop. Creating masks that illustrate veterans’ hidden feelings.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone, but she didn’t give him a hard time about it.
