Page 19 of Wish For Me

But I can hardly concentrate with Noelle looking at me so intently.

They take a break halfway through, and Noelle says she has to use the bathroom. Since some of the older women have trouble with the stairs, Connie suggests she use one of the upstairs bathrooms.

At the risk of looking like a stalker, I wait a moment, then go up after her.

I nearly smash into her as she stands in the hallway, looking at a photo on the wall.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

She clears her throat, backing up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been standing around a blind corner.”

A beat passes, before she says, “I wasn’t really using the bathroom. I just needed some space.”

“I’m sorry.” When she doesn’t say anything, I pick up the hint. “I’ll…uh… I’ll go back downstairs.”

I turn around, trying not to let the disappointment show in my posture.

But just as I reach the top of the stairs, she says, “We were supposed to read a mystery.”

I’m so surprised, I laugh. “What?”

“A mystery. By one of my favorite authors. It’s about a woman who buys an old church and discovers a body under the altar.”

“Jesus.”

“He’s not in it.”

I pinch my lips, looking down as I laugh. “I forgot how funny you are.”

She gifts me with that beautiful smile.

“Have you seen that church downtown?” There’s a boarded up church down by the water that’s been for sale for at least a decade. “It’s a little creepy looking, but it’d make a great community theater.”

When Noelle doesn’t say anything, I realize I’ve said too much. It must be weird that I remember she mentioned how fun it would be to run a theater if she wasn’t an actor.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I say.

“Really? Because it seems like the Leif Kelly show down there.”

“Connie tricked me.”

Noelle laughs. “Well, clearly I didn’t know you were going to be here either. I should have guessed when Mom said they’d switched to a space book.”

A long beat passes, and she glances to the stairs behind me. She wants to go back downstairs.

But I can’t leave it like this. Not when this might be the only time I see her again.

“Noelle,” I say, hesitating. “I… wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For taking off last year. For not being on the couch.”

A beat passes, then she says, “I propositioned you, remember?”

Despite the extreme awkwardness of this location, my dick jumps at the memory.

“You didn’t exactly have to twist my arm.”

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