Page 23 of City of Love

I nod. “All right. So what about your friends?” I say, moving on, because he doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about his family anymore.

“Mostly true,” he says.

“Luc?” I say, naming the friend he’s mentioned the most.

He nods. “Luc is my best friend.”

“I like Luc,” I say, though I’ve never met the man. “He sounds fun. When can I meet him?”

Noel’s gaze flits over me before he looks away. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Because he’s a part of your nonprofit business ventures, which you don’t want me involved in?” I guess. “Or is it because you’re afraid he’ll hit on me?”

Noel’s eyes narrow a fraction before he mutters, “Has anyone ever told you you’re too intuitive?”

“Absolutely,” I say matter-of-factly. “Mostly Cohen. So? Am I right?”

“Yes, okay?” he says, running one hand through his hair. “On both counts. Now let’s be done asking questions.”

I snort disbelievingly. “Are you kidding? We haven’t even gotten to the biggest question.” I frown. “And don’t tell me what to do,” I add.

He sighs. “All right, fine. Let’s jump to that part, then. You want to know why I didn’t tell you I was a guy.”

“Yes,” I say, my voice quiet. I toy absently with the hem of my pajama shirt.

“I didn’t realize you thought I was a girl,” he says heavily. “Not until we’d gone back and forth for a while. And by then you’d already started talking about how excited you were to have someone outside of your life to confide in, someone you didn’t have to be embarrassed talking to. You’d mentioned how Marcus was giving you a hard time.” His eyes narrow. “Is that who you were talking about earlier? At the flat?”

“Yes,” I admit.

He purses his lips disapprovingly, and I’m not surprised; he hates Marcus. “Well, I liked talking to you. And you seemed like you needed a friend, and I thought if I told you I was a guy, you would stop writing. Or you wouldn’t feel like you could talk to me about things like creepy guys or whatever.”

I shake my head. “That’s not your call to make. You don’t decide what’s good for me and what’s not. And I might have been okay with it,” I add, but even as I speak I can feel the lie in my words. Honestly, things probably would have happened exactly as he predicted. I would have been embarrassed about my mistake, and even if I did continue writing, it definitely would have been different. I wouldn’t have talked to him the way I did.

Noel cocks one skeptical eyebrow, and I deflate under his stare, my cheeks reddening as I think of some of the things I’ve told him over the years.

“Fine,” I huff. “You’re probably right.”

He smiles smugly, and I resist the urge to wipe that look off his face. I look away instead, noting again the barely there scent of cologne around me—completely masculine. I don’t particularly enjoy the reminder that I went three years without figuring out who Noel was. Part of me knows I’m being unreasonable with myself—why on earth would I ever have suspected him of being male?—but it’s still a difficult idea to banish.

The thought rises in me as my mind floods with not only the things I should have seen but also the things I can’t believe I told a guy. I take a deep breath, trying to quell my sudden onslaught of emotions, but it doesn’t work. Before I realize it, I’m off the bed, pacing back and forth in front of Noel, who watches me with an unreadable expression.

“Lydia,” he says, and though I’ve spent hardly any time with him, I can tell Noel’s voice right now is about as gentle as it ever gets. “What’s really bothering you about this? You don’t like that I lied, but it’s more than that.”

I hate that he knows this about me. I let out my breath. I don’t want to answer him, but his question pulls all of my feelings and emotions to the front of my mind until they burst forth like water from a dam.

“I’m so embarrassed!” I say, halting my pacing and trying desperately to hold back tears. It doesn’t work. Since when have I been such a crier? “I told you really personal stuff, Noel! I told you about guys and my body and periods and—”

“None of that bothered me,” he says.

“But it bothers me!” I say, rolling my eyes, because it’s such a typical guy thing to say. “And what, was I just some joke to you?” I swipe angrily at my tear-filled eyes. “Some little girl you laughed at while she was pouring her heart out to you?”

“No,” he says, and before I even register what’s happening, Noel is standing in front of me, his hands bracing on my arms. He shakes his head. “No, Lydia,” he says fervently. “Not at all. It was never like that.”

I wipe my eyes again. “How am I even supposed to believe you?” I say. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

Noel takes a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he says, exhaling roughly. “You’re right. Youcanbelieve me, but I’ve shown you no reason to. And I’m sorry. Truly, Lydia, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I should have told you at the beginning. But I didn’t,” he says, his voice softening, “and I can’t change that now.”

I sniffle, not quite able to meet his eye. “I feel so stupid, because I should have known,” I say. “You’re such a guy, even in your emails—all bossy and stuff. I should have figured it out. You never talked about guys or a boyfriend, but…” I shrug. “I just thought maybe you preferred girls or something, or maybe you and Luc were secretly together.”

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