Page 14 of The Photo
“I did.” I offer her a half smile. She’s in a rush to get back to her event. I can tell because she keeps edging away, breathing faster.
“I’m so sorry, Noah. I swear I’m not stalking you.” She twiddles the tips of her hair. There are tons of red and gold, warming deep chestnut, mingling through the strands like an autumn sunset.
I notice scratches of broken skin on her shaky hand when she opens and closes her palm. Waves of apprehension bubble through me. She seems lost. I resist the compulsion to gather her close and tell her it’s okay.
“Good,” I reply. What the fuck is the matter with me? I’m pushing her away because I like her.
Rowan nods, turns and jogs away from me.
“What the fuck?” Alexa’s voice slaps me out of the trance. “What just happened, Noah?”
“She follows my social media account.” I shrug, still watching her leave.
Alexa clicks her fingers in my face. “And you remembered her name? Noah, this is freaky.”
“Look, it's nothing. I messaged her back a few times, that's all.” And browsed every photo she has in the public eye. I also searched her name on the internet and studied what little information there was on her.
There’s just one thing. Now that I’ve met her in person, those eyes of hers have hypnotized me. They're hard to describe, I’m not the best at describing stuff like that, yet the watery sheen misting her piercing shade of green made me feel like I’d found peace.
“You messaged her? Why?” I can hear the shock in her tone. That’s not normal behavior for me.
“Leave it, Alexa,” I warn. “It was a stupid move.”
“You’re being a dickie dribble, Noah.” She hooks my arm and yanks me into her hip.
“A what?” My brows snap together. “I have no clue what that is and have no desire to find out.”
She squeezes my arm. “Your eyes give it away. It’s obvious you've got the hots for the stalker girl. Like magnets, or sticky jam.”
“Sticky jam?”
“Yeah, it attracts wasps, and they get stuck in it.”
“Alexa. What was in your coffee? Are you saying I’m a wasp or sticky shit?”
“You’re being a stingy wasp who won’t admit he’s drawn to the jam.” She continues, “And that sweet girl is the pot of jam you want to get stuck right into.”
“Into?” I can't believe I’m having this conversation.
“Into,” she repeats and waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“This is madness.” My eyes roll. I shirk off her hands, collect my empty paper coffee cup and toss it in the trash can.
“Noah, in all the wonderful, fun and adventurous years we’ve been acquainted,” Alexa smirks, “I’ve never witnessed that look on your pretty boy face before. You were ogling her.”
“Fuck sake, there was zero ogling.” There may have been a certain percentage of eyeballing.
“You were sooooo ogling.” She giggles. “You like her, it's one hundred percent obvious. I bet you even got a hard-on.”
“No, Alexa. I didn’t, you weirdo.” I defend my hardness with denial. We stroll along the sidewalk. “Anyway, who wouldn’t want to bump uglies with that, well, not literally bump into each other like we just did. I mean, look at her. She’s beautiful.” I hesitate, looking back to find her missing in the cityscape. My stomach dips. “And she thinks she knows me, because she follows my posts.”
“Did she say that?”
“No, but that's what they all think.”
“I’m wearing a new top, Noah, and your ego will explode all over it. This was expensive, so why don’t you get over yourself already? Everyone should take a risk once in a while, including you.”
Eight
