Page 5 of Resisting You
I'd seen it a million times. I'd seen how fame, and the spotlight could tear two people apart. Two people who claimed to love each other so much.
I winced, forcing myself to look away from the two girls and Noah, who seemed to be soaking it all in. I waited, ignoring the scene until the two girls scurried off, scrolling through the photos they’d just taken.
"That was quite a display." I chuckled, doing my best to mask my disdain for what I had just witnessed.
"That was nothing," Noah said. "Sometimes one person asking for a picture results ineveryoneasking for one, even if they don't know who I am. They just assume I must be famous."
“Well, youarefamous.”
“Yeah.”
There was a weariness in his tone that I hadn’t expected to be there. Maybe I'd read him all wrong. Maybe he wasn't eating all this up. But it still didn't change the fact that dating a guy like Noah Tripp—or rather,Noah Blueas he’s known to his fans—meant dealing with public backlash and the social media shit storm that came with it.
It didn’t change the fact that if the tabloids got wind that Noah was dating a senator’s daughter, they would tear us both to shreds. Our lives would be lived from one photo op to the next.
Who says you have to date? One night together doesn’t mean dinner and a movie. It could mean rumpled sheets and room service breakfast.
Hoooboy. I needed to tell my hormones to calm the hell down.
"That must get exhausting,” I said. “Do you ever get to feel like yourself when you're out and about?"
"Not usually." He paused, his eyes skimming over my features. He stared at me as though he was memorizing every line of my face, every curve of my nose and cheekbones, and chin.
Then, once again, his lips slid into an easy grin. "Don't you psychoanalyze me." He lifted a finger and pressed it gently to the tip of my nose. The contact, though innocent, caught me off guard.
It was so cute. So sweet. And strangely, the kind of intimate moment that would happen between a boyfriend and girlfriend.
I immediately pulled away, scanning the bar for anyone who might be watching, phone cameras drawn, ready to catch an intimate moment to send to the papers. But no one was looking at us. No one was watching… no one cared. That was Atlantic City for you.
He only wants you because you’ve said no time and time again. He wants what he can’t have.
How long had it been since I’d spent the night with a man? Eight months? My body ached, pulsing for the attention that emanated off of him.
I wanted Noah. And he wanted me in return. He’d made that clear enough over the years. Was it the liquid courage coursing through my veins and fogging my brain, or was I actually considering this… him…us?
I gulped what little was left of my melted daiquiri, the sweet mix sticky and cool and delicious as it slid down my throat. Icrossed my legs against the throbbing desire at the apex of my thighs and breathed deeply, an attempt to calm down my libido.
Holy hell. Just one moment of entertaining the thought of a night with Noah and my sex drive kicked into gear. If my body reacted this potently, maybe itwastime for Noah and me to get this out of our systems once and for all.
God, how I wished that was a possibility. But it wasn’t. Noah and I could never be… not for a night. Anddefinitelynot for a lifetime.
Chapter 3
Noah
Rosa’s grin stretched wide, revealing a set of perfectly straight, pearly-white teeth and dimples that framed either side of her mouth. “I can’t help but notice you grimace every time you take a sip from that Michelob Ultra you’ve been nursing since we arrived at the bar. Why not order something else if you don’t like it?”
I spun around, resting my elbows on the bar and pushing the lukewarm, half-drunk beer away from me. I asked for it in a pint glass with a lemon wedge to try to make it feel more special. But she was right. I didn’t want the beer. “A bottle of this is under a hundred calories.”
“Okay…” she says, drawing the word out and clearly not understanding. “And?”
“AndI’m supposed to be shredding down for when we start back up filming in a few weeks. And believe it or not, this is my best option.”
“Ah. Shredding, sure.” She took another sip of her daiquiri, wrapping those pretty lips around the straw. Damn, I wanted those lips on mine. “But would one drinkreallyhurt? Just onelittle sex on the beach to celebrate and enjoy the marriage of two of our closest friends?”
Just one little sex on the beach…
Her words catapulted my imagination to a more literal depiction of that. And the thing I craved way more than any alcoholic beverage.
