Page 71 of City of Love

I resist the urge to throw myself at him as well as the urge to run in the opposite direction, because this is now a matter ofpride. Instead I lean even closer, until I can feel his breath on my mouth—and when I speak, my lips brush over his as they move.

“If you think,” I whisper, “that you canflirtyour way to an answer…you are sorely mistaken, babe.”

His eyes, so close to mine that our lashes could tangle, widen a fraction—whether at my use of the word “babe” or something else, I don’t know. Either way, it leaves me with the satisfaction of having won this round. I smile, perhaps a little smugly, before pulling away from him.

Because I really might kiss him if we just sit there that close to each other.

“Now,” I say emphatically, “let’s get on with our list, shall we?” I write my women’s shelter idea down as number one. Then I look over at him. “What else should we write?”

But he’s really not paying attention to my list. He’s just staring at me, his eyes dark with a heat, a longing, that takes my breath away—steals it right from my lungs. Because he looks like he might shatter if the space between us doesn’t disappear—like he might combust under my touch, and yet like he wants nothing more than to go up in flames.

But me looking back at him seems to do the trick; he blinks before relaxing back into the couch, clearing his throat. I hide my smile as he clears his throat a second time, and I’m tempted to call him out on his staring, but I resist. Instead I write the number two on my list. The adrenaline from being so close to him makes my hand shake and my writing messy.

It would be great if he could conveniently not notice that.

“Okay, number two,” he says, and he has the nerve to sound completely unaffected. “Well, what else do you want to do? Places you want to travel? Things you want to see? Skydiving? I’ve heard that’s a common bucket list addition.”

“Ew, no,” I say quickly. “No skydiving. Jade would be all over that, but adrenaline’s not my thing.” Except for the burst still racing through my system, but that’s a special case. “Traveling, though, I could do—the Cotswolds,” I say, writing it down.

“In England,” Noel says, nodding. “That’s a good one.”

“It just looks like a fairy tale,” I say, smiling. “The thatched roofs and the rolling hills and all the green…” I sigh. “Gorgeous.” Then, reminded of another one, I say, “Switzerland!”

“What’s in Switzerland?” Noel says, watching as I add it to the list.

“Lauterbrunnen is in Switzerland,” I say, looking over at him. “Go on”—I nod at his phone—“look it up. Oh,” I say, remembering another one. “And Grindelwald. That’s another little village there.”

“Grindelwald?” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Like, the Harry Potter guy?”

Be still my little heart. Just when I think he can’t get any more attractive, he goes and pulls out something like that.

“Yes,” I say, my insides doing a little fluttery thing. I clear my throat. “I’m surprised you know that.”

He shrugs, beginning to type on his phone. “I read the books once years ago, but I’ve seen trailers for those Fantastic Beast movies too.” Then, changing the subject, he says, “I’m looking these places up now—oh, whoa.”

I nod vigorously. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald are the only village names I know, but I’m sure there are other places in the Swiss alps that are just as beautiful. I’ll just leave it at Switzerland for now. I can add a village name later if I want.”

“That sounds good,” Noel says. He leans forward a little to look at my list. “So, my sweet traveler. What else do you want out of life?”

“Oh,” I say as another idea comes to me, inspired by Noel’s comment a minute ago. “I want to get my own wand at the Harry Potter theme park!” My nerd is showing, but I don’t care.

“That’s a good one,” he says, nodding and pointing to my list. “Write it down. Anything else?”

Once I write down the Harry Potter entry, I bite my lip, thinking.

And thinking.

And thinking some more.

The truth is, there are a few things I can think of off the top of my head—I want to get married, and I want children—but would it be awkward to put that down with Noel here? What if he thinks I’m trying to hint at something? True, those are things he actually already knows about me, but telling him when I thought he was a girl—when I wasn’t crushing on him in abigway—was different.

Aside from that…well, the truth is, I’m pretty content with my life. Yes, Marcus needs to go, but I’ve never felt like I was missing out on any grand experience or anything.

And maybe a lot of people would scoff at it, but I think it’s okay for my ultimate goal to be centered around having a family, isn’t it? The white picket fence dream isn’t for everyone, and it doesn’t have to be, but…it’s for me.

“I can tell you’re thinking about something,” Noel says, his voice soft. “You don’t have to tell me, but you should write it down.”

I nod slowly. “The American dream,” I say, because that’s less pointed than saying something like “settle down with Noel.” I hesitate, and then I look at Noel. “Do you think that’s silly?”

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