I stayed quiet.
"No. You're the only one." I felt Noah press a kiss to my hair. "I don't often lose control like this."
Relief blossomed through me. I knew a man like Noah Hart had his share of women. I just didn't like thinking I was only one in a long line of them.
"Is there another way out of here?" I asked tentatively. "I don't know if I want to do a walk of shame through the bar."
"We can sneak out the back entrance. I don't want to get shit from Jessie either."
Noah found some spare napkins to clean up and tucked himself back into his pants. He reached out to take my hand then paused, a wild look on his face.
"You got any paper?"
"Paper?"
"Or whatever. Something to write on." Noah tore through the back room, upending boxes and tossing them around. "I need to write down some music."
"You're really going to do that here? Now?"
Noah grabbed a random pen and began scribbling on a napkin. He murmured to himself, humming indistinctly.
I used the rest of the napkins to clean myself up, righting my dress and putting my panties back on. I watched as he wrote down line after line of music notes.
I should have known better than to hope for cuddles or sweet talk. This was about par for what I could expect from Noah.
"So coming to a dive bar did help you find inspiration after all," I drawled.
Noah grunted, not answering.
I tried to keep the disappointment from welling up in my chest. I sat down on a discarded chair, waiting for the man who used my body as his muse to finish composing his latest masterpiece.
After a few minutes Noah looked up to find me still sitting there. He looked down at his napkins for a moment before shoving them into his pocket. He came over to me and took my hand, pressing a soft kiss on my inner wrist.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I get kind of carried away."
"It's fine. Your music is important."
"You're important, too."
My heart gave a little flutter. "And you said you didn't do romance."
He frowned, looking uncomfortable. "You're an important part of my process. For composing, I mean."
"Sure. Of course. Your process."
I couldn't help but smile inwardly. That emotional barrier of his was slowly crumbling, piece by piece. Maybe soon they'd be low enough for me to peek over those guarded walls.
Chapter Eleven
"Comeout to Club Harmony with me tonight."
I paused in the middle of making a note on paper and turned to Noah slowly, my pencil still hovering in the air. "Like… a date?"
"Some rich celebutant paid ungodly sums of money to have Darkest Days perform at her twenty-first birthday. I want you to come and watch. Kickstart some ideas."
"Right." Of course it wouldn't be a date. It was all business with Noah. At least, it was all business until he had his tongue in my mouth — and other places.
Even then, that was a sort of business to him, in a way.