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She nodded.
His eyes filled with hope. “Meet me in my room?”
She opened her mouth to answer with words this time, but he suddenly held up a hand.
“No, wait. My roommate’s girlfriend is in from out of town and he, um...sort of claimed the room.” He scrunched his nose, appearing deep in thought for a second. “Mick’s gone all weekend, and he has his own room, the lucky bastard. We’ll have privacy.” He checked the time on his phone. “Can you meet me there? At twelve thirty?”
Holy shit.“Okay. Which room is his?”
“It’s—”
“Agnew!” someone boomed. “Move!”
“Calm the fuck down,” Noah called over his shoulder as he stood.
“Just go,” she said. “I’ll ask someone.”
“It’s on the second floor,” he began, and someone turned the music up, sending bass pounding through the walls. “Anyone can direct you,” he shouted, walking backward, but still facing her. “You’ll be there? Twelve thirty?”
“Twelve thirty. I’ll be there.”
Mia startled awake, heart pounding. Her eyelids fluttered and she pressed her hands into the sheets, awareness setting in.
The dream always ended in that moment, never continuing on to the disaster that set in shortly thereafter.
It was almost as if fate wanted a do-over.
She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.A do-over.What would she do with a second chance with Noah, if such a thing were possible? What if things had turned out different and they’d been able to meet that night like they’d planned?
She covered her face with her hands. Thinking about it was pointless. She couldn’t go back in time, and couldn’t change what happened that night, or shortly after.
Even if Noah’s proposal could be seen as a second chance (which it shouldn’t, because he was just doing it to help her out), and even if she wanted a second chance with him (which she didn’t, because their friendship was perfect), her reasons for staying out of a real relationship were still valid. Even if it were Noah, someone who loved her (like afriend) and cared about her well-being, he still didn’t deserve the burden of her illness. It was time-consuming, costly, and stressful. It came with a lot of unknowns, and that was something she was determined to shoulder alone.
It was bad enough her parents had to foot the early medical bills. She’d never be able to repay them.
Her hands slid down her face a little, as a new realization set in. She’d have a better chance of giving them some money back, if she had a better paying job. She wouldn’t become rich as a dietician, but she’d probably double her current salary as an administrative assistant. She could keep her current expenses and put aside a little every month for them.
They wouldn’t accept it, a voice in the back of her mind argued.
That was beside the point. It was the principle—the fact that she tried. Even that would lessen her guilt, if only a fraction.
She’d barely spoken to her parents in two years, and couldn’t put her finger on exactly why she felt she owed them so much after learning of their deception. Her conscience argued it was probably because they were so good to her for the first twenty-eight years of her life, but she wasn’t quite ready to make peace yet.
She missed them more every day, so maybe she was getting there.
She glanced at the clock—ten minutes before her alarm. There was no point in closing her eyes again, so she got out of bed and got ready for work.
When she arrived at her desk, she found two things.
One, her entire computer was covered in plastic wrap. Tower, screen, keyboard, mouse. All of it. And thick, too—her computer could survive an explosion with the multilayered protection around it.
Two, a steaming cup of coffee from her favorite coffee shop.
She hadn’t even looked up yet, but she knew she’d find Noah’s light on. She was often the first one in, and when his car was in the lot before hers, it was usually because he’d arrived early to mess with her workspace. She grabbed the warm drink that smelled like caramel heaven and walked to his office.
She stopped in the doorway, fixing him with her best glare, trying to pretend he hadn’t completely thrown her for a loop last night.
He didn’t even look up. “Morning.” He said it like nothing was out of the ordinary.
