Page 32 of Call My Bluff
The expression on Noah’s face shifted, and he actually seemed to be considering the question. “If I fast-forward, do I come out the other side knowing all the things I would have learned in the time I skipped or do I come out exactly as I am now, just older?” he asked.
This was a point she’d discussed before, and she was ready with her answer. “You come out as if that part of your life has happened, but you didn’t actually experience it. So, if you fast-forward to graduation, you would have the knowledge without the hassle of actually going to class.”
He furrowed his brow. “So... let’s say I convinced you to go out with me during the time I skipped, I would wake up with a memory of a date, even though I didn’t actually go on it?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “For the sake of argument, yes.”
“Hard pass, then. I definitely want to be there,” he answered instantly.
“But—also for the sake of argument—what if we go on a whole bunch of dates and you fall desperately in love with me and then I break your heart into five thousand tiny little pieces? Wouldn’t you want to skip that?”
“You’re assuming, first of all, that I would fall in love with you, which is doubtful, and you’re also assuming you’d be able to give me up after all that, which is also doubtful.”
She huffed, now wishing she hadn’t asked the question in the first place. “Okay, fine, forget I asked,” she said, looking down at her feet. She pointed her toes and stretched her ankles again.
After a moment, there was motion in her peripheral vision, and she looked up to find Noah circling the end of the coffee table. “What are you doing?” she asked, instantly on alert.
He sat down at the far end of her couch, facing her with one knee pulled up onto the cushion. Then he reached a hand out, palm up, and curled his fingers inward. “Give ’em here,” he insisted.
Olivia scanned his face, caught off guard by the sudden change of subject and dismayed to see that he was completely serious. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your feet. I know they hurt; you’ve been stretching your arches since you sat down. So give ’em to me.”
She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Uh, no, thank you,” she replied, suddenly self-conscious. There was no way she was letting him touch her feet.
Noah pursed his lips before folding forward and reaching toward the floor. In one swift motion, he’d closed his hand around her left ankle and pulled it toward him, and Olivia yelped in surprise as her whole body swiveled ninety degrees. “I’m going to be a physical therapist; feet don’t bother me,” he explained matter-of-factly. Then he unfastened the dainty silver clasp on her ankle strap and slid the shoe off before dropping it to the floor with a thud.
Olivia only gaped, all protests dying on her lips as Noah took her bare foot in his warm hands, and she was immensely gladshe’d decided to wear pants instead of a skirt. He pressed both thumbs near her heel and smoothed a slow path upward before curving out and starting over. Once, twice, three times. Every cell in her body was laser-focused on her foot, and she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off his hands as they moved over her skin. When he crossed over a pain point, she hissed in a breath.
“Right there, huh?” His touch gentled instantly, and he moved in smooth circles over a knot in the muscle beneath his thumbs. “Try to relax, Pix. I’m not going to hurt you on purpose,” he said.
“It’s the accidental part I’m worried about,” she mumbled, though her sarcasm switch seemed to be malfunctioning. It would have been easier to stop him if he’d been bad at this, but, unfortunately, he wasn’t.
Another moment passed before she glanced up and caught him watching her face. His blue-gray eyes seemed to be looking for something. “Let me guess, I’m going to owe you after this,” she said dryly.
He pressed his lips into a hard line, one that almost looked irritated. “No, Pix,” he answered tightly. “You have a problem, and I can fix it. That’s all. No sense in you being in pain all night.” He released one foot and reached for the other without pause.
Olivia did her best not to melt into the sofa. She actually felt bad about her question; she’d meant to imply he had a motive, but she hadn’t really meant to insult his character. The voices in her mind began debating how best to apologize, but she never got the chance.
“Would you rather eat food from a fancy restaurant or a gas station for the rest of your life?” he asked, breaking the now-tense silence, and she was grateful.
“Definitely a gas station,” she said. “You can’t get a burger and fries at a fancy restaurant.”
He shrugged, his thumbs still working over the arch of her right foot. “Well, sometimes you can, but it’ll probably have oysters or something on it.”
“Exactly. Why mess with a good thing?”
“But if you eat from a gas station all your life, you will never leave the bathroom.”
Olivia wrinkled her nose. The statement was unpleasant, even if it was true. “You have to be smart about it,” she countered. “You obviously shouldn’t eat sushi from a gas station, but burgers and tacos are usually alright.”
“And you’re going to eat burgers and tacos for the next sixty years?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
“I take it you’d choose the fancy restaurant?”
“Depends on the restaurant. Someplace that serves teeny, tiny portions that look like sea creatures? That’s not going to work. But a good steakhouse with blooming onions and really good apps? I’d be down with that.”
“So steak is your comfort food?” she asked.
