Page 73 of The Luck of Finding You
I’m about to ask her to tell me more when the doorbell rings. Mo starts barking wildly, and I have a feeling that the person on the other side of the door is exactly the person that I’m trying to avoid. I walk down the stairs and Gran sits back down. “I’m going to my room,” I yell to her as I walk right by the front door. I am not ready to see Noah yet. I want to, but I’m not ready. I need to figure out what I’m feeling first.
Gran sighs. She’s probably mad that she already sat down and that her story did nothing to my heart. I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that itdid, in fact, do something to my heart; I can’t even admit that out loud to myself. Let alone her. Or Noah.
I slip into my room just as Gran opens the door. “Noah!” There’s a moment filled with Mo barking wildly, and I take a tiny peek around the corner and up the stairs and see Gran giving Noah a hug. I take a step back into the dark hallway as they part.
“Thanks for watching Mo for an extra day,” Noah says, and I smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey, buddy,” he says to the dog.
“It was my pleasure. How’s your sister?”
“She’ll be all right.” They’re standing on the landing, the front door still open, which I’m grateful for because that means that I won’t have to hide out in my room for more than a few minutes. “How’s Tally?”
I move a step closer to my room. They wouldn’t have been able to see me from where I was standing anyway, but I don’t want Gran to know that I’m eavesdropping.
“She’ll be okay,” Gran says happily. “She’s a bit torn up that that boy didn’t show up. She also wouldn’t tell me what happened between the two of you, so I made a few guesses.”
My face burns. I couldn’t tell Gran about our almost-kiss.
“You need to call her,” Gran says.
I imagine Noah’s running his hands through his wavy blond hair just about now. “I was going to.” I will my heart not to drop, but it still does. What does he mean that he wasgoingto call me? Is he not anymore? “Could you tell her to meet me at the shop at eight tomorrow morning?”
“Of course, dear,” Gran says. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I made plenty.”
Please say no. Please say no.
“I’m sorry, but I already ate. Thank you though.” It hurts a little. Even though I was hoping he’d say no, I didn’t think he actually would. “Tell Tally I’ll see her tomorrow. Tell her it won’t be like the last time.”
“I will,” Gran says, then the door clicks shut. “You can come out now.”
I step sheepishly away from my doorframe.
“What did he mean it won’t be like the last time?” Gran asks as I head back up the stairs, my stomach growling.
“I honestly have no idea,” I tell her, my mind spinning, trying to piece together what he was talking about and what I’m going to do when I see him.
* * *
“Ugh,”I moan as my alarm goes off an hour earlier than normal. I am not a morning person. I’ve never been a morning person. Which is why I get up at a quarter to eight every day to make it to the bookstore by nine. Today, though, I am, for some unknown reason, getting up an hour earlier to be there at eight, just like Noah asked.
I haven’t responded to any of his messages. I probably should, but I also have no idea what I’ll say. I’m pretty sure Gran told him that I’d be there this morning.
Standing under the scalding water does little to wake me up. My stomach is in knots by the time I make it upstairs for breakfast. I grab a granola bar, promising myself that I’ll eat it after whatever happens with Noah, and then I’m out the door. People who say that mornings are the best time of day have never met me. Obviously. Noah should know that mornings are not my jam and that whatever this is he’s got planned definitely could have waited until later in the day.
Like in the evening.
The shop looks quiet when I pull into a parking spot out front. Technically, I should park in the back because this spot is prime real estate for any customers, but parking in the back is a pain and I’m not in the mood.
The front door is locked. “Of course it is,” I grumble as my hand moves through my overcrowded bag to find the keys I just dropped into the abyss. I find them and the bell above the door makes its familiar sound as I enter, and I flip on the lights.
“Hello?” I call out, because I don’t see Noah right away. I move to the counter out of habit and set my bag by the register. A flutter of movement catches my eye and I turn to see Noah standing there, holding a bouquet of daisies and is that the fifth Simone Sorrows book? I haven’t even cracked my copy open yet.
“What’s going on?” I ask, taking a cautious step in his direction.
“I know that last weekend didn’t go the way you planned.” Noah’s eyes pierce mine. He gives a tentative smile and takes a step in my direction. “It didn’t go the way I hoped either.”
“You knew I was going to meet another guy,” I say softly, thinking of our almost-kiss in the hotel room.
“I know,” Noah says. He’s right in front of me now. I can smell his cologne. Pine something. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m sorry you got stood up and that you felt like you couldn’t wait for me, that you had to get out of there. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend to you so that you could have trusted me.”
