Page 112 of The Kissing Booth
‘After you,’ he said, and made a grand sweeping gesture for me to go in first.
I’ll be honest: I’d expected to come in and see the floor scattered with rose petals and candles everywhere, and maybe even the sappy mood music – the kind of scene you see in films, like on Valentine’s Day or when the guy’s madly in love and about to propose.
Because when Noah had said he was being a ‘stupidly perfect and unrealistic’ boyfriend, I’d kind of thought maybe he’d gone all out here – made a huge display to try and impress me.
So when he opened the door and ushered me inside, I was relieved to find there were no candles, no music, no dimmed lighting. Nothing sappy, or cheesy, or romantic. It was just a regular suite, with a plush white lounge, soft white carpets, and an open doorway leading through to what must’ve been the master bedroom and en-suite bathroom.
It would’ve been just so artificial if he’d gone all out. This was Noah Flynn – violent and crude and totally unromantic. Even his ‘romantic gesture’ at the dance wasn’t exactly him serenading his love to me. It was typical Noah – and I’d loved it.
‘So much for stupidly perfect and unrealistic,’ I said jokingly, turning around to smile as he shut the door behind us.
‘Oh, believe me, you haven’t even seen that yet. Come on.’
He grabbed my hand, tugging me into the bedroom.
Nowthis– thiswasstupidly perfect and unrealistic. Well, almost. It was close enough for Noah’s standards.
‘Now you know where I disappeared to earlier,’ he said. ‘Do you have any idea how long it takes to spell things out with petals? It’s impossible. I gave up in the end. I was going to write “sorry”, but...’
‘I can see,’ I laughed.
Deep red flower petals were scattered over the bed and the floor.
I went up on my toes to kiss his cheek. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘Yeah, I know. But I’m trying, right? I told you I was going to try. And I know how much of a romantic you are at heart.’
I smiled sheepishly.
‘I am kind of surprised you gave me another chance so easily, though,’ he said, pulling me down onto the bed and taking me in his arms. ‘I was expecting you to put up more of a fight.’
‘Are you asking for another argument, Noah?’ I asked.
He tugged at my hair playfully. ‘No, I’m just saying. I’m not complaining. There is a difference.’
‘Barely.’
He chuckled, and I felt it reverberating through his chest. He kissed me softly. I was about to return the gesture, but at that moment my cell phone decided to ring.
I felt more than heard Noah sigh, and he took his arms away almost grudgingly as I pushed myself up to go find my purse.
I sighed when I saw the caller ID, wandering into the bathroom with my purse, my cell already at my ear.May as well check my make-up if I’m stepping out for a moment, I thought.
‘Hi, Dad,’ I said, hoping my irritation at being interrupted didn’t show in my voice too much. I leaned toward the mirror to clean up a little smudged eyeliner.
‘How was the dance?’
‘Good.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Did you figure out what you’re going to do about him?’
I bit the insides of my cheeks before answering. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I made up my mind.’
Dad sighed. ‘You’re going to stay with him, aren’t you.’ It was more of a statement than a question; he already knew.
‘Yeah,’ I admitted quietly. ‘I have to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’
‘All right.’
