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“You haven’t?”
“No!” He jabs his elbow into my side with a boyish guffaw. “I’m twenty, princess, not some middle-aged banker. I do normal things, like going to house parties and bars with my mates.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I do normal things too, you know.”
“No, you don’t. Come with me to the next house party I go to, and then you’ll see how normal people do it.”
My heart skips a beat. I grab his arm. “You want to introduce me to your friends?”
He grins. “Got to show you off, don’t I?”
For a second, I’m speechless. Speechless that he’s thinking about doing things together in the future, speechless that he clearly wants me in his life. Speechless at how much I want what he’s describing. Going to normal house parties, letting him show me off. Meeting his friends—being part of his life.
Cammie was right, after all. I reallyhavefucked up.
“Of course.” I lace my arm through his and put on my shiniest smile. “Anyway, just follow my cue. You’ll be fine.”
We’re heading out of the hotel when I notice something. I stop in my tracks. “Noah.”
“Yea?”
I cover my mouth with my hands. “Why are you wearing a backpack?”
“Because,” he says, gesturing at his backpack like I’m not already staring at it in horror, “I needed it to carry my stuff on the train.”
“Thetrain? But you have a car.”
He lets out a guffaw of disbelief. “Drive? InLondon? Christ, you reallyareAmerican.”
I want to comment that I never drive in London—I just get driven around, but I guess that would only strengthen his argument, not mine.
“Well, what stuff do you need, anyway? What on earth do you have in there?”
“You know, standard stuff.” He slides the strap off his shoulder and unzips his backpack. “Like… charger, headphones, water—normal stuff.”
“Normal stuff?” I pull out what essentially looks like a blue plastic barrel with a handle. “God, what’s that?”
“That’s my water bottle. Got to keep hydrated.”
“I know about the importance of hydration, Noah. This is just…”
I watch him as he slowly places his gigantic water bottle back inside his backpack. His expression is bemused. He clearly doesn’t understand why it’s so ridiculous for him to bring a gallon of water to a charity art gala. Closing the space between us, I press a kiss to his mouth.
“You’re so cute,” I say against his lips before pulling away. “Come on, I’ll have the staff take your backpack up to my room. You can come and pick it up later. Let’s hurry, the limousine is waiting for us.”
His eyes widen as we hasten out of the hotel. “Limousine?”
I smirk. “Let me guess—you’ve never been in a limousine before.”
“Obviously not. You’re the first rich girlfriend I’ve ever had.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, thefirstone? Or how many?”
He laughs. “Depends how long you keep me around, doesn’t it?”
“Can’t believe you’re already planning to replace me with another rich girl.”
He wraps his arm around me, squeezing my waist as the limousine pulls up in front of us. “You’ve given me a taste for the lifestyle.”
