Page 30 of Resisting You
Noah drew back and even though it was only a couple of centimeters, I could see the tension in his face with my question.
“You want to keep your name a secret?”
I shrugged, trying to keep my voice nonchalant. “Just until I tell my parents. If they don't hear it from me, I’m pretty sure they’ll disown me.”
He nodded, slowly. “Why don’t we just facetime them tonight?”
“Because…” Because the second we did that, it would become about them. They would have their publicists and team all over us and working to help manage the rollout of our announcements. “... they’re pretty controlling.”
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just explain to Noah how well known my parents were. Noah of all people would understandeverything I went through as a kid. Then again, this lifestyle was a choice he made. Whereas I was born into it.
“Controlling?” he repeated. “Even now? You’ve graduated?—”
“I know. It doesn’t matter. They have their own careers which are very public. Somehow, that’s always mattered more than me.”
His brows furrowed. “Their careers are public? Are they actors?”
“My mother is,” I admitted. But saying that aloud, even to someone I trusted like Noah still made anxiety clamp in my throat. “Well… was. And my father is a politician.”
“Oh right. You did mention that a couple times. Would I know either of them?”
I shrugged nonchalantly as I crossed into the bathroom. “How should I know who you know and don’t know?”
It was the exact same answer I’d given people my whole life. Most people who watch the news would recognize my father’s name. And my mother, though she wasn’t acting much anymore, was still legendary.
I turned the faucet on, then started washing the frosting off my face.
Noah followed me, leaning against the door frame casually. “Well, I’m going to know them eventually. One way or another, since they’re my in-laws and all. So whenever you’re ready to talk to me, I’m here, ready to listen.”
With that, he gently shut the bathroom door, leaving me to shower in peace.
After my shower, I gave myself a pep-talk and managed to pull myself together enough to have a very public dinner date with Noah. I put on powder blue linen pants, a silk tank top… and my big girl panties… both figuratively and literally. They were lace. And a thong.
Noah smiled at me as we finished eating in the lovely, but small Italian restaurant. He scribbled his signature at the bottom of the check, leaving a generous tip. “There,” he said, flashing me that boyish grin of his. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I don’t know how, but that already dazzling smile widened, deepening his dimple.
No doubt that smile had probably gotten him nearly everything and everyone he’d ever wanted. One dashing smile and boom… panties gone. One dashing smile and boom… the leading part is his.
“Dinner with you was never the problem,” I said in response as he reached across the table and took my hand. “It’s dinner withthemthat’s the issue.” I tilted my head toward the small group of five or so reporters that were lingering outside the window of the restaurant.
They weren’t even trying to be discreet. It was damn unnerving. The kind of behavior you might expect on the red carpet or in LA. But not in a quaint, sleepy lake town like Maple Grove.
Noah shrugged and finished off what was left in his wine glass. “You get used to them.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Not in my case. “Really?” I challenged.
I found that hard to believe. I grew up with photographers hanging around outside our gated Malibu home. And never once had I gotten used to it. Then again, maybe my parents had.
“Really,” he said. “I don’t always like or appreciate them. But I’ve gotten used to life with paparazzi. And I’ve found ways to escape them when I need to. Truly, they usually leave me alone. It’s only because of you they’re even here tonight. Within a couple of days, they won’t care about us anymore.”
Yeah, right. I’d heard that before.
I shivered as a cool breeze brushed over my skin from the air conditioner humming in the corner. Rubbing my palms over my gooseflesh, Noah wasted no time standing and bringing his blazer over, draping it across my shoulders.
Even without the jacket, his gaze lingering at the curve of my neck would have heated me right up.
“I have a confession,” I said, my voice cracking.
