36. Sabrina
CHAPTER 36
SAbrINA
I stretch my limbs, groaning at the delicious ache in my muscles. At some point in the night, we made love, this time slow and sweet and tender. It was terrifying in a way—realizing how strong my feelings are for him.
With an exhale, I reach for Noah. Rather than his warm skin, though, I find nothing but cool sheets. Frowning, I blink and force my eyes open, then sit, holding the sheet to my chest, and search the room for him.
I’m alone, but there’s a note propped up on his pillow.
Be back soon.
—N
I set the piece of hotel stationary down, then ease out of bed and slip into the hotel robe as I pad to the bathroom.
“Holy shit,” I mutter as I get a good look at myself in the mirror.
A shower is a must. I look like I’ve been dragged to the depths of hell and back again.
I brush my teeth while the water warms, then step into the spray. I hadn’t planned on washing my hair today, but since I didn’t do any proper hair care last night, it’s got a life of its own.
Noah still hasn’t returned when I turn the shower off. I take my time adding product to my hair and going through my morning skincare routine. When I’m dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt and he still hasn’t returned, I start to worry.
I’ve settled on the bed and have just turned the TV on when the door beeps. A moment later, a crinkling sound signals that Noah has entered the room.
“You okay over there?” I joke.
He comes around the corner wearing a proud smile and pulling to-go boxes out of the bag. “I picked up breakfast.”
“It smells delicious.” I sit up straighter, and as if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “I’m starving.”
He slides into bed beside me with both boxes and sets them between us, then leans in and brushes his lips against my neck. “You smell good.”
With a hand pressed to his chest, I lean away from him. “Stay away from me, you demon dick god. I’m too sore for you to be up on me like that.”
He falls back onto the bed, clutching his stomach and shaking with laughter. “Demon dick. Wow.” He rights himself and wipes a stray tear of laughter from beneath his eye. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never that before.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” I open one to-go box and pop a grape into my mouth.
“Too late. I want that printed on a shirt and broadcast to the world.”
“I hate you,” I grumble as I fight a smile.
“Sure weren’t saying that last night, were you?”
“Noah,” I groan, head tipped back and gripping my knees to keep from sprawling out on the mattress. This man will be the end of me. “Let me eat my breakfast in peace.”
With a shrug, he pulls a fork from its plastic packaging and spears a bite of eggs. “You’re the one who called me a demon dick god.”
I did, but that’s beside the point. With a cleansing breath, I straighten and focus on my breakfast. “What are your plans today?”
“I have a few more interviews and then we’ll fly to Paris.”
My stomach dips. For the Olympics.
This man is competing in the fucking Olympics . He’s talented. I’ve known that from early on, yet it didn’t occur to me until a few weeks ago that this was even a possibility.
“Paris is going to be insane, isn’t it?”
He snorts. “You have no idea.”
“Have you played in the Olympics before?”
With a water bottle halfway to his lips, he gives me the most epic side-eye I’ve ever seen. “You mean to tell me you’ve never Googled me?”
My cheeks heat. “I mean… maybe once or twice, but it’s not like I memorized your bio.”
He presses a hand to his heart. “You wound me, Curls. But yes. This will be my second Olympics.”
“Did you win?”
A rough laugh escapes him, sending water dribbling down his chin. He wipes at it with the back of his wrist. “Not even close.”
“Maybe you will this time.”
“Maybe.” His expression grows distant, like he’s reliving the last time or maybe visualizing the upcoming matches. “I’d love to. It’s one of my dreams—to earn an Olympic medal before I retire.”
He pops the cap back onto his water and shifts my way.
“Anyway, after my interviews, I thought we could hang out together. Maddie’s spending the day with Fisher, so you have the day off.”
“Really?” I perk up. I’ve had few entire days off since we were in Texas last. More often than not, I’m with Maddie, even when it’s not required, because I genuinely enjoy being around her.
“Yep. Do whatever you want.” He finishes eating. “You have my card. Use it.”
I roll my eyes. “I hate when you say that.”
“Why?” he asks with an adorably confused frown. He stands from the bed and gathers up our trash. “Believe it or not, I’m rich. Let me spoil you.”
My whole life, I’ve had to fend for myself, and that independent part of me is itching to rear her ugly head, to tell him that I don’t need his help. But why? He’s offering to take care of me, so why won’t I let him?
“Maybe I’ll see if the spa has any openings.”
He grins in triumph, eyes crinkling at the corners, and rounds the bed until he’s standing at my side. “Thank you. It’ll make me happy for you to pamper yourself.” With a kiss to my lips, he takes a step back. “I’ll see you later. I should be back no later than four. I—” He chokes out a cough and presses his hand to his chest, eyes wide. “I’ll see you then.”
My heart lurches. Did he almost tell me he loves me? Holy shit.
I don’t call him out on it. Hell no. I’m not ready to open that particular can of worms.
Once he’s gone, I curl up and pull the covers up to my chin. I should call the spa and see if there’s any availability, but after last night’s activities, I’m in desperate need of a nap.
An hour later, still bleary-eyed, I call the spa, and though I’m told they’re booked for the day, the woman on the other end of the line asks for my name and room number.
Once I’ve given it to her, she taps at her keyboard and says, “Ah, it seems Mr. Baker has taken care of it. Any and all services you want are available.”
With a shake of my head, I press my lips together so I don’t start laughing. I should’ve known he’d call the spa himself to ensure I get my ass there.
I schedule a massage, and I fall back against the mattress when the receptionist says, “There’s a note here from Mr. Baker that mentions you might be interested in a facial, manicure, and pedicure. Would you like me to put you down for those too?”
Freaking Noah. I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said it would make him happy if I pampered myself.
“Um…” Guilt niggles at my stomach, but clearly, he wants me to do this, and the idea of being pampered from head to toe is too tempting to pass up. “Yeah.”
“Okay. How does eleven sound?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
After I end the call, I sprawl out like a starfish, unable to keep a goofy grin from spreading across my face.
This man.
He’s too good to be true.
While I wait for my appointment, I pick up the room. It goes a long way toward making me feel better. I can’t think properly in a messy space.
I find my laptop buried beneath the hoodie I stole from Noah and plug it in when I discover the battery is dead. When it’s got enough juice to power up, I navigate to my inbox, and just as I feared, I’m met with at least one hundred new emails. Most of them are from mailing lists I swear I never signed up for with a few random ones from Lucy that mostly involve asking for my opinion on collages she’s made for various nursery themes. I’m shocked she hasn’t texted or called me to see why I haven’t responded to these.
I have almost everything cleared out when an email catches my eye.
Position Opening
My heart stutters. “Huh.”
I click on the email.
Hello Ms. Howard,
I hope this email finds you well. I received your information from Terri Jaymes. She mentioned that you might be interested in a teaching position opening at my school. I wanted to reach out to you before posting the job, since Terri is a good friend and has sung your praises.
The position is for fifth grade and would start in August.
If you’re interested, please respond as soon as possible. I’ll need to schedule interviews soon since the position has to be filled before the start of the school year.
Thank you for your time,
Jessica Barrett
I read the email again and then a third time for good measure.
First, a zing of excitement races through me, but the sensation quickly disappears when I realize that taking this job would mean leaving Noah and Maddie.
When Noah hired me, I knew it was temporary, but I never expected to grow so attached to Maddie or her dad.
My feelings ping-pong, first one way and then the other.
The fact is, if Noah and I continue this… whatever our relationship is, then I can’t continue on as Maddie’s nanny much longer. That would be weird, right? I can’t imagine letting my boyfriend pay me a salary. That feels icky.
But if I take a teaching position, then I’ll never see either of them.
Okay, never is an exaggeration, but it’s damn near close enough.
What Noah and I have is so new. It’s fragile. Long-distance like that, with different time zones and all his traveling, would be hard for even a long-term relationship to handle.
But can I base my decision on the potential that what we’re doing will last?
“Ugh.” No. I can’t allow my future to ride on the unnamed feelings Noah and I have been exploring. So I quickly compose a response asking for more information and send it.
There.
I sit back as the email swoosh sound echoes around the room. This way, Jessica knows I got the email, but it gives me more time to think about it and to bring it up to Noah.
I can’t imagine he’ll like the idea of being apart like that. The final decision is mine, of course, but it only feels right to give him a chance to talk about it with me.
With a heavy exhale, I close my laptop.
So much for my relaxing day. There’s no way I won’t spend the next several hours stressing about this.
The logical side of my brain tells me I’d be crazy not to take this job. It’s what I’ve been searching for.
But my heart—the organ to blame for the overwhelming emotions I have for my boss—says not to do it.
And I don’t know which part of me will win out.