Page 24 of Cluelessly Yours

I would have been thankful for the interruption, if she weren’t one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen. Her nearly perfect fitness-babe body is strikingly obvious in her neon-green bicycle shorts and sports bra and light jacket, and her makeup-free face looks better than mine when I have it slathered on. Even her blond hair is on point, looking healthy and effortlessly bouncy in her ponytail.

And just like the redhead from the bar the other night, she has the expectant face of a woman who came here to meet up with Noah.He likes the fact that I’m a woman? Yeah, I’m sure he does. And women seem to like him too.

What’s that phrase?Once bitten, twice shy.Just exactly how wary are you supposed to be after life takes two bites from your ass?

Probably pretty damn cautious.

My sister is so right. Noah Philips is the catch of the century. And apparently,everywoman in New York knows it.

The brown Labrador retriever on Blondie Supermodel’s leash tugs her straight into the middle of our circle, his tail wagging as he greets Dolly. And I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as Noah glances back and forth between us.

“Kendall, this is Sammy and Grant,” he eventually introduces. “Sammy, this is Kendall and her good boy, Chanandler Bong.”

I’d probably take the time to be entertained by her dog’s name if I weren’t feeling so…flighty. Right now, everything inside me is shouting,Run! Get out of here as fast as you can!

But I don’t miss the way Kendall’s face jerks to Noah’s for a brief second before coming back to meet my eyes. Though, I have no idea what the silent exchange means.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sammy,” Kendall responds as Chanandler Bong starts to lick Grant’s hand, making him giggle. “And I apologize for our abrupt interruption.”

Despite her politeness, the urge to flee the scene is too compelling to resist. But since I can’t break out into a jog without looking like a total weirdo, my mouth ramps up to full speed instead. “Oh, no worries! You’re not interrupting!” I exclaim, my voice all kinds of strange and excitable. “We were…just leaving anyway. Yeah, we were just getting ready to head out! We’ll get out of your way, and you can get to…your…well, whatever.”

“Sammy—” Noah starts to say something, but I cut him off at the knees.

“No, no.” I shake my head and hold up one hand. “We’re running late anyway.”

“Late for what?” Grant asks, and I silently think,I love you, but you’re a betraying little bastard right now.

“The thing, honey.” I skirt around my lie. “Come on.”

Grant digs his heels into the grass. “But you said—”

“Grant. Come on. We have to go.”

“But you said we were—”

God bless this adorable, horrible child.

“Sweetie, we have togo,” I order, grabbing Grant’s hand and starting to walk.

I turn to Noah over my shoulder hurriedly, thinking I’ll say one last quick goodbye to avoid looking like a complete psychopath, but my toe catches on Dolly’s leash and I trip forward. Noah reaches for my hand on a lunge, but the sudden move yanks Dolly’s leash taut—right between my legs.

The normally good girl lets out a bark of panic and jerks to a run, jamming the leash straight into my vagina, which, incidentally, really hurts my labiaandmy pride. It’s a real two-for-one special the grocery store never talks about.

Both Dolly and I yelp, and everyone else freezes, including Chanandler Bong. It’s not like they don’t care—even supermodel Kendall’s face is a mask of empathy—but this isn’t the kind of injury Noah can ask to take a look at, especially in front of his gorgeous lady friend.

I untangle myself in a manic twirl of limbs and lifting of legs, spinning in a complete circle with Grant’s hand in mine and absolutely trucking away from the people I’ve left to gawk.

I swear, the universe is the smitiest of smiters sometimes.

Noah calls out my name one more time, but I manage the cringiest smile in the world and a wave and then set my sights on anywhere but here. My phone pings in my jacket pocket, and I barely even hear it. The embarrassment is too loud.

Grant’s mouth moves a mile a minute.

“Where are we going?”

“What are we doing?”

“Why are we walking so fast?”

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