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“Both,” Noel answered without looking up. “Ice it, add one and a half ounces of peach schnapps and top that off with orange juice.”
“Thanks. What’re you doing, anyway?”
“Fixing the damn schedule.”
“Really? Hey, can you get me more than sixteen hours a week?”
Noel stopped what he was doing and lifted his face. “What the hell? She only put you in for sixteen hours a week? Figures.” He went back to work. “But yeah, you got it.” Then he paused and lifted a slip of torn paper to his eyes, squinting.
“Yo, Lowe,” he called as his coworker began to leave. “What’s this say?”
Lowe came back and took the sheet. He blinked and turned it upside down before handing it back. “No c
lue.”
Noel sighed and rubbed his face. “Great.”
“Noel, table eight needs refills.”
He glanced at the waitress who’d approached. “Sure. Oh! Hey, Mandy. Can you read this?”
He let her look it over while he pulled up a round of bottled beers.
With an apologetic smile, she shook her head and gave the paper back. “Sorry, sweetie. But it looks like Julia’s handwriting if that helps.”
“Julia,” he murmured, scanning the tables. “She’s not working tonight, is she?”
“Nope.” Mandy grabbed the beers and was gone.
He looked so defeated as he set the note on the bar and shook his head, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t handle seeing him like this. He worked so hard, at everything. The guy needed a break. Or better yet, he needed my help.
“Let me see,” I said and came in close enough to slide the paper across the bar away from him. “I’m used to trying to decipher sloppy handwriting.”
When he glanced up and only blinked at me, I sent him a nervous smile, rolling my eyes. “And usually it’s other professors’ penmanship, not students, that are the worst.”
A breath rushed from his lungs. “What’re you doing here?”
Ignoring the questions because I couldn’t handle the answer, I studied the slip of paper before looking up. He looked so thunderstruck, I was actually afraid of the force of joy that pulsed through me. I should not get a thrill out of pleasing him, but oh God, I felt like a junkie. I had to do more to make him smile.
“It says ‘need off every Friday for son’s ballgames.’” Then I glanced away, unable to take the pressure I felt in my chest from simply looking into his periwinkle eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“What you risk reveals what you value.” - Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body
~NOEL~
“You came back.” The words echoed though my head. She’d come back. Holy shit. Aspen had come back to Forbidden.
She handed the slip of paper back to me. “Yeah, I...I...”
“Thirsty for some more Bud Light Lime?” I guessed, making sure my fingers touched hers when I retrieved the note.
She flushed green and sent me a horrified glance. “God, no.” But even as she shook her head, her fingers seemed to slide deliberately over the outside of my thumb when she retracted her hand. God damn. I shuddered from the obscene amount of pleasure it gave me. “I don’t think I could drink that particular poison again for quite a while. I’ll just stick with cola tonight.” When she seated herself, telling me she planned to stay awhile, my heart almost cracked itself open it beat against my chest so hard.
I nodded and tossed the work memo aside before setting my hands on the counter between us. “You know, they make a mean cola just across the street at that non-alcoholic restaurant there. It’s cheaper too.”
She nodded and slipped off her stool, getting to her feet. “You’re right. I don’t...I don’t know what I’m doing here. I should go.”
