Page 39 of Love Hollow at Last
“Wait.You can’t be serious.”
“W-What?Is it so unbelievable?”
Some of her anger came back.“I mean, yes!You’re always in the tabloids with some hot woman.They speculate all the time about how much play you must be getting.”
“By design,” he said quietly.
“How come nobody has talked?”she asked, still peering at him.She didn’t think Noah would actually lie to her, yet it was at odds with the image he’d projected for years, so she couldn’t quite believe it.
“And say what?‘Noah and I had a nice time, but he dropped me off at my door’?Even if one person told the tabloids that, they wouldn’t believe it.And they certainly wouldn’t think it was true for absolutely everyone.”
“But there would be a rumor, something like that.Wouldn’t they decide you’re gay?”
He grinned.“Well, I’m not,” he said, leaning in to kiss her neck.“I mean, there are plenty of ladies who knowthatmuch.”
His kisses took her breath away for a minute, then she took one of his hands in hers.
“So, is this really okay, then?”she asked.Maybe there was more about him she hadn’t realized.If he was secretly a virgin, he could secretly also be a Buddhist monk or something.“What were you waiting for?”
“You,” he said then kissed her again.“I was waiting for you.”
35
Noah
The morning dawned, the sun shining in a cloudless sky.
Noah pulled the curtains shut and made the bed bounce as he leaped back into it.Aya let out a sleepy giggle, and he thought it might be the single most alluring sound he had ever heard.
Hours later, even the heavy blue-and-white curtains did nothing to hide the excellent weather.With a moan of regret, Noah raced off to look at his phone, which just had a text from his musician mentee, asking if he could call later in the day.He’d expected someone from his family to check in, at least to make sure they still had power, but there was nothing.
Aya’s eyes were closed.
“Are you still asleep?”he ventured.
She smiled.“No, but I could use some coffee.”
They had their coffee out on the porch, watching the valley come alive with late-morning activity.A bird feeder had apparently done an excellent job of keeping the birdseed dry, as a parade of finches and sparrows braved their company in order to eat from it.It was almost warm enough for them to sit in their yukata, but Noah had found an old cardigan his grandmother had once made in a bag meant to protect it from moths.It smelled of cedar.Though Noah had made fun of the cable-knit pattern when he saw his father using it, Aya looked absolutely gorgeous—and happy, too, sipping her coffee as she warmed her fingers on the mug.They were in one of the Adirondack chairs, but he’d brought out the outdoor cushions to make it more comfortable.
It occurred to him that he’d located many things that could have helped him make an alternate sleeping arrangement the previous night.The cardigan, the cushions, the cozy wool blanket that was covering both of them as Aya sat in his lap.Good thing he hadn’t thought of any of it.
“Is this what your house is like?”asked Aya suddenly.“An incredible view, like this one?”
Noah laughed.“My house has the opposite of a v-view,” he said.“Just a huge fence surrounding all the sides.”
She looked disappointed.“Oh.I guess I picture all of LA as a giant beach.”
“You’re a historian.Aren’t you s-supposed to know geography?”
Her features clouded.“Of course.But I’m not necessarily an expert on the current LA housing market.”
“That’s a shame, because I might sell m-m-my house.I could have used an expert.”
She leaned against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head.He noticed himself stuttering more, probably because he was so sleep-deprived.The feeling of Aya in his arms was electrifying.Perhaps he would never sleep again.
“Don’t you like where you live?”she asked, tracing one of the cardigan’s embossed buttons with her finger.
He shook his head.“Not really.It’s expensive and also boring.The worst of both worlds.”
