Page 66 of Kiss the Girl
“Grace!”
“What,” I said, but it wasn’t a question. I knew what was bothering her.
“He’s not ready for that. He still needs to recover.”
“Mom, he was fine. I promise. I wouldn’t have left if he wasn’t.”
“He pushes himself too hard. It’s the worst thing he can do. He’ll set himself back.”
“He’s not going to give himself cancer again if he exerts himself, Mom. I promise. Pretty sure the science backs me up.”
“But he can give himself all kinds of new problems from overexertion.” She rubbed her temples.
“Did you know he’s been taking three mile walks every day for a week?”
She froze and looked at me. “What?”
“Yeah. He didn’t do it yesterday, obviously, but every day when you leave for the office, he goes out for a walk to build up his endurance. It totally paid off in the store today. He looked a tiny bit tired when he flipped the open light off, but nothing like he looked even last month when he walked down to the mailbox to get the mail.”
“I want you back in Charleston as soon as possible, but not at the expense of your dad’s health.”
“He’s doing great, Mom. I know it’s hard to trust that, but he is.” I wasn’t going to get anywhere with her, so I changed the subject. “I need to go take a quick shower. Noah is coming, so don’t be surprised if you see his car in the driveway.”
“What’s going on there? For a fake situation, that was a convincing mistletoe kiss.”
“It was just a show for Dr. Boone, Mom. It was nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing, Grace. Noah seems like a great guy, but you can’t get sidetracked right now. He’s as rooted as you can get here, so unless you want to keep working at the store forever, cut bait and run from him and those eyes he can’t keep off you.”
“Mom…”
“Don’t ‘mom’ me. I’ve been there. I know. You’ll have way more options when you go back to Charleston. Don’t take your eye off the ball.”
I dropped it because I hated any hint that she wasn’t happy with her life in Creekville. I knew she loved my dad, and he was still smitten with her after thirty years, so it sucked to know there was a big part of her who would take it all back and do it differently if she could.
“You’re worrying too much, Mom. I’m going to take a shower.”
Noah hadn’t ever been up to my apartment, but he knew where the stairs were from our Saturday booth-building, so I texted him to just come straight up to my place when he got here.
I stood beneath the pounding shower water and tried to think about what I wanted from our conversation. I still didn’t have any answers when I hopped out ten minutes later.
At least, not answers that I could say out loud. Maybe most guys would go for, “Hey, I’m definitely leaving Creekville forever in a month, but want to make out constantly until then?”
Noah wouldn’t. He was a roots kind of guy, one who had been hurt in his past. He’d glossed over it a couple of times, but something had made him…skittish, almost? It was an insulting way to describe him, but I couldn’t think of how else to put it.
I’d watched it again last night when we’d broken off our kiss and his eyes had been fever-bright with wanting. But as reality set in and Evie’s “ew” had broken the spell, he’d retreated for the rest of the night. He’d still put on a show for the Boones, but I could feel the difference; a slight hesitation each time he touched me, all of the subtext in our unspoken game gone.
I was at a loss, and I had no idea of what he was coming here to say. For as many ways as I’d gotten to know Noah so well—from his sense of humor to his sense of duty to his work ethic—there were still layers I didn’t understand.
I pulled my hair into a messy bun and slipped into pajama pants and a Virginia Tech shirt. Whatever was coming next, I was going to be as comfortable as possible for it. I made some hot cocoa while I waited, and when Noah knocked right on time, I opened the door and waved him toward the sofa in the small living room.
He took a seat on one end, and I set a mug down in front of him then settled onto the other end. I had no good ideas to break the silence.
Stupidly, the only thing I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss him again. Like, crawl over, curl into his lap, and lay one on him until he forgot about even having a conversation.
Yeah. That was exactly what I wanted. So how to make it happen? “Tell me about your last girlfriend.”
He looked as surprised as I felt by my question. “Uh, what?”
