Page 59 of The Blind Date


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So when he guides me back to lie on the hood, I let him. I shouldn’t. We’re in public, and this could be scandalous. But he kisses down my neck to my collarbone, and I forget all reason. My eyes flutter closed, and I hold him to my skin, wanting him to taste me, mark me, take me.

But voices sound out in the dim parking lot, breaking the spell, and I open my eyes. I hiss, “Noah! Noah!” I swat at his shoulder, and he lifts up in confusion.

“Riley?”

Without the pressure of him against me, I lift up and immediately drop down by the front tire. Which puts me right in line with his bulging crotch.

“Uh, whoa!” Noah says, reaching down. “I mean, I’m not necessarily saying no, but . . . I don’t think we should do that in public.” Noah cups himself to block my supposed blowjob attack, but he sounds as if saying no physically hurts him.

“I’m not trying to blow you,” I growl, pointing toward the entrance to Big Mike’s. “Look who just showed up!”

Noah looks to where I’m pointing, his eyes widening in shock. “Arielle?”

“And Eli,” I add. Of all the restaurants in Briar Rose, how did they decide to come here? They’re holding hands and smiling at each other, lost in conversation, but they could’ve easily seen us.

Finally catching on to the problem, Noah ducks down too, headbutting me and almost falling on his butt.

“Ow!” I hiss, rubbing my forehead.

“Sorry,” Noah whispers.

I hear Arielle say something. I can’t quite make it out, but I can hear her laughter and Eli’s answering chuckle. And then they’re at the door and disappear inside.

“What the hell are they doing? Are they on a date?” Noah asks, standing back up.

Arielle and Eli have been casually hooking up for years, nothing serious. But I’ve wondered about them with how they’ve been acting lately. Are they getting more serious? Or is their FWB situation imploding?

Still confused, Noah rambles, “And isn’t Eli into guys?”

“Eli’s into anything with a pulse,” I correct him. “And your sister’s hot. Did you not know that they’re FWBs?”

“Excuse me? FWBs? What the fuck?” Noah growls, looking toward the door of the diner like he’s considering chasing them in there. “How long has that been going on?”

“Quite a while,” I tell him. “You seriously didn’t know?”

Noah’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head sharply. “I try to respect her boundaries, but . . .”

“They’re fine,” I tell him. “Probably fueling up for a night of—"

I cut off my supposition when Noah clenches his jaw.

He glances at me and sighs. “I’m sure you’re right. They’re fine. Arielle’s fine.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than anything.

A giggle bubbles up at how dramatic he’s being. I mean, Arielle’s grown, and it’s not like Eli is her first or only partner.

Noah grimaces sheepishly. “I’m being an asshole again, aren’t I?”

I hold up my thumb and index finger a solid three inches apart. “Little bit. But you’re a big brother, and that’s expected in Arielle’s case.”

With a sigh, he lifts his hands over his head, wiggles them around, and inhales deeply. He’s doing what I coached him through, and the idea that it meant enough to him to remember means a lot.

“Okay. Arielle is FWBs with Eli. They’re getting food. That’s perfectly natural and fine.” He sounds like he means it this time, and I grin.

“You know you’re the one out on a date with your sister’s best friend,” I tease, letting my fingers dance up his arm.

“You’re right. I am,” Noah says huskily. “But I haven’t thought of you as ‘Arielle’s friend’ in a while. You’re more . . . the woman I want to know everything about.”

There’s so much depth in his comment that it catches me off guard and has my desire at white-hot levels. Confident, assured, intelligent, and . . . God, he’s perfect for me.

“Riley, what is it?” Noah asks, tracing along my cheekbone. “Your eyes went all dreamy.”

“I want to thank you, Noah. I . . . this side of you, I never knew it existed,” I admit to him. “You’re a lot more than I expected. Even after the chats and the cheesecake.”

“I did enjoy the cheesecake, though,” Noah teases before getting serious again. “I didn’t realize that you were so . . . fun. No, more than fun, you’re . . . vibrant, infectious energy. You’re an amazing woman.”

Our hands touch, and I realize the magic of what’s occurred. Without the filter of our previous notions and the week of getting to know each other online, we’ve been able to really see each other’s souls.

They say you can travel the world without meeting the one person who’s your best partner. But would I have ever realized that my perfect match was right under my nose all this time? That I was blinded by a bad first impression and couldn’t see the strong, intelligent, soulful man right here in my arms now?

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