AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Finally, a wry glance over her shoulder. “Heaven forbid.”
Her front door pushes open an inch, but she doesn’t go inside yet. She stands there, one mitten braced on the painted wood, and stares back at me with a thoughtful expression. Seeing way too much with those searching brown eyes.
Always seeing too much. That’s her problem.
“Call me later,” Noelle says out of nowhere, and suddenly blood rushes in my ears, my pulse thundering. It’s so loud I nearly miss her next words. “If you get bored, or whatever.”
Can’t speak. Can’t think.
Can’t nod. Can’t react at all.
Not without giving away the meltdown happening in my brain.
Because…callher? Call my beautiful assistant outside of work hours? To saywhat?I mean, look at me—I can barely string a sentence together, and that’s in person, never mind the awkwardness of talking on the phone.
Besides, Noelle doesn’t mean that offer. She’s just being polite and considerate, like she is with everyone. Pitying me for my lack of dates.
Slowly, robotically, I turn on my heel and walk away.
Three
Noelle
It’s a four hour drive to Aspen Ridge, and we’re spending the whole freaking journey in stilted silence. At first, as we drove out of the city, there were logistics to go over. Key points about the meeting, stuff like that. That was fine.
Then we ran out of work-related things to say, so I tried putting the radio on. Big mistake.
We made it through six different channels, all blaring Christmas music, before Reid slapped it off with a snarl.
So.
Yeah.
Now it’s just us. Our steady breaths, the muffled rumble of the car engine, and the faint thud of my heart. Occasionally, we’ll drive under a dark cloud, and sleet patters against the roof.
“There’s a cow in that field.”
My boss grunts.
Reid’s car is sleek, black and fancy, with leather seats and that new car smell, even though he’s had it for at least the three years I’ve known him. Doesn’t he ever tramp mud in here? Or gobble down handfuls of fries at a drive in? Does he ever relax his ironclad control?
And who the hell doesn’t like cows?
“We could play a game,” I say, as though I’ve never met this man in my life. As if Reid Merryweather is even capable of such frivolity. If he ever plays games, they’re probably elite chess matches where everyone watches in silence, then groans politely when the player loses their queen.
But clearly the world is topsy-turvy today, because Reid glances at me, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, then says: “Alright.”
Oh my god. What?
Yay!
My mind goes blank.
Every game I’ve ever played, every dumb, fun way to kill time—it all falls out of my ears. There’s nothing left except shock ringing in my skull.
“Which game?” Reid clips out, his tone impatient, like he regrets this already. Well, you know what? Samesies. But there’s no way he’ll ever agree to this again, so I need to milk this opportunity for all it’s worth.
A game with Reid Merryweather? It’son.
