8
I”m starting to think that Noah McCarter is stalking me. Even though that”s completely ridiculous. It was a coincidence that he and Alex were in the same Uber as the one I ordered to take me home. It”s amazing how often I run into the McCarter twins these days, and I know for a fact that one of them wants to go out with me. And now he”s going to drive me home. I must be completely crazy. Everything we”re doing here is doing absolutely nothing to help me keep my resolution, and it”s not helping us build a purely professional relationship with each other. Which we”re not doing, just because he has my personal cell phone number. Our working relationship is not official yet. We”re still waiting for his lawyer to review the contract. Once Noah is my client, he will no longer drive me home. That”s unprofessional.
Noah opens the car door, and the headlights come on. They shine at us, illuminating his face in that orange glow that makes me grin.
“What”s so funny?” he asks, opening the driver”s door. With a heavy heart, I walk to the passenger side of my car. I hate it when other people drive my cars.
“The orange of the headlights flatters your face.”
Noah laughs and adjusts the seat, then the rearview mirror.
“Don”t pretend,” I say, looking at him. “I hate that.”
“Excuse me for being at least eight inches taller than you,” he says, rolling his eyes. “No one can sit here.”
“I didn”t force you to drive me.”
“I know,” he admits, turning on the engine with the start button. It roars to life and he grips the leather-covered steering wheel. I buckle up and watch him. To be honest, Noah looks pretty damn good in my car. He”s wearing a black V-neck t-shirt that accentuates his muscular chest and a pair of jeans. He”s either not wearing a jacket because it”s still very warm or he left it in the Uber.
The car rolls away and he steers it onto the street. I look away from him and out the window.
“Can you put in the address?” he asks, and I look at him again. “I don”t know where you live.”
“Sure,” I say absentmindedly and he smiles at me. “Sorry.” I tap my saved address called ‘Home’ and press ‘Start’.
Noah looks at the navigation system and opens his mouth when he sees the area. “You have your own villa?” he asks. “Wow.”
“No,” I mumble, crossing my fingers because it makes me a little uncomfortable in front of him that I still live with my parents. But it”s the best solution so far. I”m looking for a place of my own. I hope Noah didn”t think I was going to invite him over for drink so he could have sex with me. He can forget it. Not only because of my parents.
“I live with my parents. The house is huge. But I”m looking for an apartment.”
“Okay,” he says, smiling. “You”re very close, aren”t you?”
”My parents and I?” I ask, glad for the small talk. The thought of us keeping quiet all the way home drives me crazy.
“Yes,” Noah says. “Your parents and you.”
“Yes,” I answer with a smile. “I”m their only child and, of course, we”re close. I love being with them and I”m glad we all live in Boston now. Still, I”d like to have my own place.”
“I understand that.” He grins and leans back. My Mercedes is an automatic, and Noah casually rests his right arm on the center console and steers the car through the dense Boston traffic with his left hand. God, he”s so insanely sexy. I”m really tempted to imagine this happening more often now. Him at the wheel and me as his girl next to him. We could drive to his place together, or he’d drive me home. I quickly look away.
“Alex and I see our parents very rarely.”
“You”re from Tennessee, right?”
“Yes.” He grins. “A real country boy.” Noah winks at me. “You think that”s sexy?”
“You in a plaid shirt with a lasso in your hand and cows next to you?”
“I was thinking more of a guitar and a campfire,” he replies. “But if you like cows and lassos better.” Noah looks at me and I shake my head, laughing. Still, I have to admit that he would certainly look good in a plaid shirt. “I”m flexible, honestly.”
“What”s life like there?” I ask. “A normal family, a small, cozy house with just enough rooms for everyone?” The words just flow out of my mouth, but I”m really interested. All I know is villas, endless luxury and a family that never had time. My parents love me, I know that, but they were very busy. I don”t have any brothers or sisters, so I was often alone. Since Mom and Dad came from normal backgrounds, I occasionally observed those normal families at my grandmother”s house in New Jersey. But I never played with the children. It never happened, and my grandmother didn”t want to spend all the time she had with me on playgrounds.
“Life in Tennessee?” he asks. “It”s monotonous. Everybody knows everybody.”
“Hm,” I say.
“No caviar and yachts and villas. No private jets and designer clothes.”
“Are you making fun of me?” I ask and he shakes his head.
“No. I”m sorry. For me and Alex, this is all we”ve ever wanted. We can give our parents so much, but, of course, I understand that it”s different when you”ve always had everything. We didn”t walk around in plaid shirts and cowboy boots and lassos, that”s bullshit.”
“Too bad.” I grin. “That would have been something.”
Noah wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh again. “Those are all bad rumors about us.”
“Then tell me the truth,” I say. “I”m very curious.”
“Okay,” he says. “I grew up in a suburb of Nashville. It was almost its own little town. We had grocery stores, gas stations, high schools.” I listen with interest. “Alex and I have another brother. Logan is five years older.”
“Another brother?”
“Yes.” He grins. “My mom hoped so much with us twins that we”d be a girl and a boy.”
“And then she had three boys?”
“Yes,” Noah answers. “My parents didn”t know our genders. Alex is two minutes older than me. He was originally going to be called Alexandra because Mom was pretty sure he was a girl.”
“And you, Noah?”
“Yes,” he says. “They had a boy”s name and a girl”s name ready. Without further ado, they changed Alexandra to Alexander.”
“That”s funny,” I laugh. “And Logan was excited about his brothers?”
“Not at all,” he says. “He found us mostly annoying and unnecessary.”
“I always wanted a sister, but unfortunately I never got one,” I tell him. “Pregnancy with me was very difficult for my mother.”
“I”m sorry,” he says, smiling at me. “Sometimes I really want to hit Alex against the wall, but to live without him? Impossible.”
“Because of your special bond as twins?” I giggle and Noah laughs.
“We”ve always been together. In kindergarten, at school, and then we were separated for college, which was hard.”
“I believe you, but now you”re back together. And you live together, right?”
“Yes. We live in an apartment, but it gives us enough space so we each have our privacy.” Noah looks at me and winks. What does that mean? Is he indirectly telling me that I can come over? Absolutely not.
“And what does your brother do?”
“Logan?” I nod. “He”s a tight end for the Nashville Warriors.”
“You”re lying!” I say it faster than I meant to. My hand lands on his muscular upper arm and I pull it back as quickly as if I”d burned my paws. I shouldn”t have touched him. That was a big mistake. Touching his muscular shoulder and feeling the warm skin under my fingers ...
“I mean I... you”re all... uh... football players?”
“All of us!” Noah laughs. “Alex and I used to imitate Logan.”
“With success.” I grin. “And who”s the best?”
“Logan”s been playing a lot longer than us,” he says, smiling. “He”s won the Super Bowl twice. We haven”t yet.” I nod and keep listening to him. “My stats are better than my brothers’, but there”s more competition at their positions. I”m sure you know from your dad that it”s easier to set records as a quarterback. But I don”t think I”ll ever be able to match him. He was amazing.”
I turn away and look out the window. He was bound to mention my dad and his accomplishments sooner or later. They all do. My dad, the superstar, the Boston Foxes legend, and them, the young players who want to date his daughter.
“Cara?” Noah asks quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Hm,” I mumble, but don”t look at him again. Hopefully, we”ll get there soon. I want to get out of the car.
“Okay,” he says. “You seem ... so ... so different.”
Of course, I”m different when he - like all the other guys - raves about my father.
“Did I say something wrong?” he keeps asking.
“No,” I snap, running my fingers through my hair, “everything”s fine.”
“That”s nonsense,” he replies. “We had a great conversation, for the first time, mind you, and now you”re completely shutting down. What have I done?”
“What they all do eventually,” I hiss. “Tell me how much you adore my father.”
Noah flinches and slams on the brakes uncontrollably. We both jerk forward and he stops. He hits the hazard lights and looks at me. What the hell is this? He”s just supposed to drive me home, that”s all. It”s enough that I was stupid enough to get into a conversation with him in the first place and then have him in my car.
“What?” asks Noah, confused. “You”re mad because I mentioned your dad?”
“I”m mad because you”re just like all the other boys,” I reply. “First, they act like they”re interested in me, and just when I think maybe I should reach out to you and enjoy the conversation, you tell me about my dad”s stats. I know he”s thrown five hundred and seventy touchdown passes and I know he”s thrown for 50,656 career passing yards, more than anyone before him and currently active. I also know that he”s been an MVP six times and won the Super Bowl five times in his career. He”s the greatest quarterback of all time and...”
“And I didn”t know all that,” he cuts me off.
“What?”
“I don”t know the exact numbers,” Noah says, smiling. He takes my hand and strokes the back of it with his thumb. My skin tingles and I bite my lip. That”s what they all say - that they don”t know the numbers. And when they talk to my dad for the first time, they can rattle off all his accomplishments.
“Everybody says that.”
“I”m not everyone,” he says, looking at me. “Cara... I want to get to know you, and I ... I didn”t realize that you ... you don”t want to because ... because you think people are only interested in your dad.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “I”m sorry you think that. But I am ... I”m only interested in you.”
“Noah, I...” I turn away from him and lick my lips. “I can”t.”
“Why not?” he asks. “I also promise I won”t memorize your dad”s passing yards or the years of his Super Bowl wins.”
“1994, 1995, 1997, 1999, when my mom was very pregnant, and again in 2001.”
“You really know all the statistics,” Noah says, and I have to laugh.
“I”m his daughter. I need to know.”
“Probably,” he mumbles. “I want to get to know you, not your dad. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” I say, pulling away from him. He leaves me and retreats as well. I am grateful that he understands that I need distance.
“But that”s not the only reason. Can you please drive me home?” Noah looks at me again and wants to say something back, but he doesn”t. Instead, he puts the car in drive and drives off. “Do you want me to call you a cab?” I ask. “I”ll pay for it, of course.”
“No need,” he replies, setting the indicator for our neighborhood. “I can do it myself.”
“Noah!” My voice sounds pathetic and I look over at him. His features are hard and his eyes are fixed on the road. He”s angry with me. “I”m paying for this and-”
“You don”t have to pay me for a cab, I can just about afford it,” he says ironically. “Give me the code to your gate.” He rolls down the driver”s side window and looks at me immediately.
“220599”
“Okay,” he replies and hands it over. “Your birthday, isn”t it?”
“Yes,” I say in astonishment. “How did you figure that out?”
“You told me that your mother was very pregnant at the Super Bowl in 1999. So, you must have been born shortly after that.” I look at him, speechless, because I didn”t think he was listening to me that well. “Yes, I”m listening to you.”
My cheeks heat up as Noah pulls up the driveway and parks the car behind my mom”s Porsche.
“You can keep the car,” I say, looking at him. “Drive it home and bring it by my office tomorrow.” And again, the words come out of my mouth faster than my brain can sort them out. I don”t want him to keep my car and have a reason to see me again. Even if only at the office.
“Okay?” Noah sounds skeptical. “Thanks, that”s nice.”
“It”s the least I can do after ruining your evening with your brother.”
“You didn”t,” he assures me, leaning over the center console and grinning at me. “I”d rather have spent half an hour in the car with you than two hours in this bar with my brother and the boys.”
He grins. “All right,” he says, coming closer to me. “You need to get out.”
“I know,” I mumble. “Good night.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest as our eyes meet again. Tense, I bite my lip, waiting for him to wish me good night too, but he doesn”t.
“Get out, Cara!” he demands, looking exhausted. He even closes his eyes and I can see that his left hand is gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“Why?”
“Because I don”t want to kiss you on your doorstep and have your parents find out,” he admits. Still, I can see how much he wants to. The air in the car is tense to the breaking point. I lick my lips again. Whether it”s out of nervousness or because I”m turned on, I don”t know. Noah is unbelievably attractive and my type.
Without wanting to, I lean forward to him. So close that his breath hits my face.
“Noah?” I ask. “Kiss me.”
“Cara, no!” He pulls away from me. As far as he can into the car. He even leans his head against the driver”s side window. Embarrassed, I pull away as well. He has rejected me. Fuck. I quickly open the passenger door.
“See you later,” I mumble and stumble out of the car. “Give my assistant the keys.”
“You know we shouldn’t, not like that,” he says, and I shake my head, slam the door shut and run to the house. The engine of the Mercedes roars behind me and Noah leaves the property in it.