Page 65 of Best Friends for Never

IwantNoel.

And all to myself.

He leans down to me, so close his lips are brushing my ear. “You know, Parker, if you wanted me to touch your pussy again, all you had to do was ask. Not pay five grand for the privilege.”

Heat steals up my cheeks, and his words go right between my legs to the very spot he’s talking about.

Do I want that? Yes, please. More than anything.

Am I going to be able to stop thinking about it until it happens again? Not a chance.

Am I completely screwed when it comes to Noel Carter? Absolutely.

I gulp, turning back to the crowd like his words haven’t ignited a fire inside me, and give them the best smile I can muster.

“That concludes our bachelor auction. Fran will be up next to start the raffle, so make sure you have your tickets ready. Thank you all for a wonderful evening.”

The place breaks out in more cheers, whistles, and gushing. The second I walk off the stage, I’m bombarded by folks.

I usually love this. I love being part of such a small, tight-knit town. I love the camaraderie when everyone comes together, and I love their support.

But right now, the only thing I want is the six-foot-four man standing on the stage, smirking down at me with heat in his eyes.

Oh yeah. I am so, so screwed.

I stay late, until the last stragglers are moseying their way to the door.

But it’s still not late enough.

Noel prowls around the room, making small talk with everyone and dumping trash into the bag in his hand.

When he said he would stay to help with fundraising, I certainly didn’t think he meant picking up trash after the event.

I know it’s just his way of staying close to me, though. How could it not be, with him sending looks over here every ten seconds?

“Parker, my dear,” my mother says sweetly as she wraps me into her arms. “I’m so proud of you. You did incredible tonight. You put a good dent in the fund for the restoration.”

“Yeah, but it’s still not enough.”

“No, but you’ve just funded at least two more weeks. Look at the positive side.”

I know she’s right, and I should be happy. But I can’t help thinking that maybe Leonard was right. Perhaps asking the town to help pay for the theater is too much.

Sure, we’re getting discounted labor from my and Axel’s crew, but we still have to pay them, and the supplies we’re using aren’t free. Not to mention the cost of the screen, the equipment for the concession stand, and the chairs, and just overall not making it look like it’s athrown-together mess—we’ll need at least another $500,000 to finish it out. It’s a lot to ask of anyone, let alone the town that raised you.

“Breathe, Parker,” my mother says softly. “Just breathe.”

I suck in a deep breath, then exhale.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow.” She lets me go, her eyes glassy from the scotch she’s undoubtedly dumped in her coffee over the last few hours.

“Oh, we aredefinitelytalking tomorrow.” I slide my eyes from her to Clifford, who is waiting nearby. “He your ride?”

“He sure is.” My mother giggles like a teenager, and I wave her goodbye.

After saying goodbye to Fran and the rest of my volunteers, there’s just one person left.

Noel.

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