Page 32 of Resisting You
Though the reporters mostly respected our space during dinner, now they were right on our heels as we walked, snapping photos and shouting out the occasional question.
“Noah, what’s it like to be off the market officially?”
“Who’s the girl on your arm?”
“Will she be taking your last name?”
“Did you two have a long, secret engagement or was your marriage a whim?”
I slid my arm around her, shifting her to my other side so that she was away from the road. I could have put my arm around her without any skin to skin contact.
But I didn’t. Instead, I let my thumb slip beneath the hem of her shirt so the rough pad of my hand was connecting to her silken smooth hip.
My heart hammered against my rib cage.
God, I’d forgotten how good it felt to take care of someone. To protect someone I cared about.
I stared at her. Stared at her in the same way that someone would stare at the moon or wish upon a star.
Shewasmy wish upon the star.
With my gaze, I traced the long straight cut of her cheekbones. Her plump lips and full web of black lashes. Dark pools of chestnut brown eyes stared back at me, our steps falling into sync with one another’s.
“Noah! Are you going to tell us the name of your beautiful, blushing bride that you can’t take your eyes off of?”
Blushing bride.
The statement pulled me out of the moment.
And even if for all of five seconds, Rosa had been looking at me, blushing, now those scarlet cheeks had nothing to do with our chemistry. Our connection. Our friendship.
And it had everything to do with panic, fear, and nerves.
Even though the walk was barely ten minutes, it felt like a lifetime. We finally made it up to the hotel room and as soon as we were in a private space, Rosa exhaled long and dramatically, before falling onto the couch.
“I’m sorry this is so traumatic for you,” I said.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It sort of is. I’m the reason they’re out there. I’m the reason they won’t leave us alone. If you had drunkenly married any other dude, they wouldn’t have noticed or cared… no offense.”
Even though the thought of her marrying anyone else but me sent a blood-searing rage tumbling through my system.
Her mouth twisted into an adorable little side smile. “None taken, trust me. But this whole situation is just as much my fault. And it was technically my idea. It may have been both of our faults that we’d gotten into this mess, but I had no one to thank but myself for the fact that we’re still in it.”
Mess.
Her mess was my fantasy.
I’d dreamed for years about what a night spent with Rosa would look like. Only, I couldn’t remember last night… and tonight, we were going to be in separate beds.
Rosa stirred up something deep in my heart. She always had. Something that I didn’t think could exist for me. I’d seen what love looked like when my oldest brother, Cam, married his first wife Hannah. And I’d seen it again when he met Lydia—even if Lydia had been not my favorite person initially. I promised my brother I’d try to get over that and I will.
Try.
But that was a hell of a lot easier said than done. Especially since she was the reason it got leaked to the press that I had missed Hannah’s funeral. Granted, she’d explained it wasn’t exactly her fault and she’d apologized profusely multiple times over.
But still. Even though I’d forgiven her, I hadn’t quite forgotten.
