Page 67 of Beauty
“Of course,” the woman says. “Though be careful with it. It’s a first edition.”
Hannah’s smile softens as she holds the book out to me. “It is.”
For a moment, I simply hold the book, cataloging the way it feels in my hand. Then I do the most ridiculous thing. I make a wish.
I haven’t done something like that in so long. I haven’t believed in something, let alone myself, in what feels like a lifetime. Yet I find myself believing that maybe this book will have the answers I’ve been seeking. Suddenly, I’m certain that when I ease the cover open, his name and number will be there, waiting for me.
But if I’m right, then what? It’s been six years. He’d think I was crazy if I called him after all this time.
Still, I hold my breath and thumb the edge of the cover, slowly pulling it back.
The first page is blank. The sight sends a blip of disappointment through me. But it’s not the title page, right? If he left his number, surely it would be there. Right where he knew I’d find it.
Yet as I turn to the next page, only to find the title and Hannah’s signature, my heart sinks.
I’m a fool for romanticizing the whole thing. Truly. Even if we’d miraculously found each other, we probably wouldn’t have worked out, I remind myself.
“It’s a great book,” I say, handing it back.
“You’ve read it?” Hannah’s brows arch into her hairline.
“Yeah.” I force a smile. “I didn’t know you wrote them, but I read the whole series. It’s fantastic.”
Each story was genuinely wonderful, and each time I read one, I felt just a little closer to Noah. I’d envision him lying in bed at the exact moment I was, opening up to the very same page.
“My brother loves this series too. He’s single, you know,” she says as her fan walks away with her autographed paperback.
“I’m not dating,” I tell her. “Also, I’m CEO of the team now. It wouldn’t be ethical for me to date a player.”
Hannah’s face falls. “Ah, you’re right. And Noah’s such a rule follower. He’d never.”
My heart stumbles over itself.Noah?“I thought your brother’s name was Harry.”
Ollie, who’s entertaining Maverick, Hannah’s son, at her side, shakes his head. “I told you these nicknames get confusing.”
Hannah rolls her eyes. “His name is Noah. But his last name is Harrison, so the guys call him Harry.”
Noah Harrison.I roll the name around my head for a few seconds, and the naïve girl I used to be tries her best to break free from the constraints I’ve put on her. I shut her down quickly and let the notion go. Noah is a common name. Even if this Noah’s stepsister wrote the book.
It’s a coincidence. That’s it.
Happy coincidences.I can practically hear Noah’s teasing tone all these years later.
So when the man I’ve been dreaming about for six years walks into the room, my heart skips about ten thousand beats in my chest, and I forget how to breathe.
As Ollie darts toward him, shouting “Dad,” Noah drops to the ground and holds out his arms.
In a black suit that hugs every inch of him, especially his thick thighs, he looks absolutely delicious. His hair is longer than I remembered, but it’s that sandy brown color I still see in my dreams. And he’s wearing glasses, the black rims making his blue irises pop as he grins at his son.
“Hey, Han,” he says, lifting his head. “How did you?—”
His attention lands on me, and his eyes go wide.
As we see each other for the first time in six years, the earth tilts on its axis. Or maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen taking me down because I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
His teeth tug roughly at his bottom lip, his gaze so intense I feel it like a caress beneath my clothes.
He looks older. A little more worldly. With new lines around his eyes, probably created by happy memories he’s made with his son. He looks like a dad. A hot dad, but still a dad.
