Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chase
I pull back just to take a breath, just to ground myself enough to make sure I kiss every brain cell out of Noah’s head, but he has other ideas.
This time he doesn’t flinch away, though. No. He takes a full step back, and with his eyes closed behind his slightly smudged glasses and his lips swollen, holds both palms up to me as he too tries to get his breath back.
“No, why?” I demand, sounding whiny and needy.
Honestly, who even gives a fuck?
My hands feel empty now that I’m not touching him, and my lips are lonely.
When he opens his eyes, the glasses can’t hide how that sweet caramel shines through, completely absent of annoyance. I know he doesn’t mind me showing my hand either.
No he does not.
Instead, the corner of his lips twitches with a smile he’s obviously trying to tamp down.
“We can’t, Chase.”
The immediate “Yes we can” I want to blurt out gets lost in time when his choice of words registers.
Can’t.
“Why?”
His hands drop slowly as his chest rises and falls with a full breath. That smile finally appears, but it’s more grateful than amused, like he’s thankful that I’m not bulldozing my way through.
I don’t know how I feel about the fact that maybe he expected me to, but now’s not the time to figure that out.
“There’s a company-wide policy about fraternizing with clients, even with the authors contracted to other agents, but especially your own clients. I can’t risk my career for a fling, Chase. That’s why I pulled back in the elevator.”
I tamp down my annoyance.
Not only at him talking about us like that even when we haven’t—when he hasn’t allowed us to have a conversation about it, or the mention of that awful moment in the elevator, but I’m also frustrated with my own reaction to how apologetic he looks and sounds.
So gentle with his voice, so soft with his eyes.
It pushes me past the line, if I’m honest, and though I never thought of him as anything close to a fling, I still wasn’t ready for this.
This much feeling.
This much desire, frustration, wanting.
No. Focus.
“So why do you work there?” I get right to it.
He shifts on his feet and pushes his glasses up his nose even though they’re perfectly placed.
“To start, they gave me a job right after I graduated from my masters even though all my experience was in antique books. They’ve taught me a lot. Also, I’m not a big enough name in the industry to go it alone, or even to go looking for other agencies.”
I nod, understanding.
“You’re loyal to them,” I surmise.
“I am,” he says simply.
“They don’t seem too loyal to you from what I saw with . . . that woman.” I huff out a breath. “What was her name?”
In an instant, he’s back, pressed against me wrapping his arms tightly around my middle and resting his cheek against my chest.
“Is it wrong that I love that you don’t remember her name?”
“I don’t think so,” I murmur, hugging him back.
“Her name’s Cordelia, and she’s the co-owner of the agency.”
“Well, she’s awful, and she’s enough of a reason for you to quit.”
“I can’t quit, Chase,” he says, now sounding exasperated. He pulls back again but doesn’t go far this time.
The way he looks up at me, open but already drifting away somehow.
It makes me blurt out something that I probably should keep quiet.
“It just doesn’t seem like a great situation to me.
You have to consider that I’ll be your client whether you work for them or not, and from the little I know you .
. .” I pause to tap the tip of his nose, which scrunches up adorably at the contact.
“Your other clients would probably say the same thing if you’re as diligent with them as you’ve been with me.
I haven’t even formally signed on and you’ve already gone above and beyond for me.
I don’t believe for a second I’m the only one you’ve done that for. ”
He hums in response, almost like he’s actually considering it, but then he lowers his gaze and his shoulders drop with a heavy sigh.
“There’s no way I could make it work with five clients, Chase. I’m sorry but there’s really no way that we—”
“What if I invest in your agency?”
There it is.
That thing I shouldn’t have said, and yet . . .
Of course Noah takes two full steps back this time, looking up at me with his mouth open and eyes harder than I’ve ever seen them.
It’s a bit unnatural.
I regret everything immediately, but also not.
Because . . . that’s actually not a bad idea.
Knowing firsthand what it’s like to have Noah as my agent, I know what he’s capable of, and that’s even before we’ve gotten to negotiate contracts with publishing houses.
I need to do some research on profit margins, industry growth expectancy, maybe some quick interviews with other agencies or even authors.
“That’s not happening,” Noah says, bringing me back to the present where I royally fucked up. “You can’t just offer that up to someone, Chase!” he whisper-shouts. “Especially not someone who you’ve shared only one kiss with. Jesus!”
“Okay, let’s get one thing straight.” I’ve had enough of this.
“You can be mad all you want about me offering to invest in you and your future, but no more of this only, and fling bullshit, okay? I understand this is new, of course I do, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be serious.
I’m taking this seriously. I want a committed relationship with you.
If things work out. In the near future.”
It doesn’t come out as smooth as I’d have liked, but at least it gets Noah to snap out of that mindset.
“Monogamy would be new, but I suppose I’ll try anything once,” I add lamely.
For a moment neither of us moves or talks.
We simply stand awkwardly in the silence following that confession.
“You’ve never been one to have relationships,” he says after a minute.
I sigh.
“I get it, there’s no social proof that I’d be a good partner or whatever, but I wasn’t going to start a relationship just because.
For me it’s always been about doing things the right way and for the right reasons.
I think I’ve lived a pretty good life with that mindset, and though yes, I have been feeling the need to find a life partner more keenly in the past year or so, it wasn’t until I saw you at that damn bachelor party that I took the thought seriously. ”
My chest heaves as the last word echoes in the big library.
“Okay, okay,” he says placatingly, once again holding a hand up. “I doubt we’ll get anywhere if we start this conversation.”
I disagree but he won’t let me get in a word.
“So we’re going to finalize this idea of what you’d do if you lost all your money.
We’ll work on it for today, and I’m leaving tonight.
” He brings his other hand up as well when I open my mouth to protest. “First, because I feel like you’re the one who’s going to write this, not a ghostwriter, which means you’ll need some serious focus time.
And second, because I need to think about .
. .” He waves an arm in a wide circle. “All of this, and there’s no way I can do that here. ”
The sound of my harsh breath is the only thing that breaks the silence. I can’t fucking—
No.
Another deep breath.
Maybe two more.
“Jesus,” I groan and comb a hand through my hair as I shake my head. “Fine. I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to focus after that kiss, but yeah. Okay.”
“Yeah, uh . . .” He looks down and once more fidgets with his glasses. “Me either.”
I groan at the delicious blush on his cheeks and turn fully around to get myself under control . . . and to readjust my boner.
The time we spend working out a few details of what I want to say, and how I want to approach this, is actually not awful.
It’s torture, of course, having him so close without being allowed to touch, because now I know my touch would be welcomed if not for a stupid company policy.
But this is Noah, so of course it’s interesting and entertaining as hell to talk about the few possibilities for the thesis statement.
“I like this one best.” I point to the notes he’s been taking, then reluctantly lean back.
Because making a choice means we’re closer to our time here ending.
“I start off by saying that if I woke up tomorrow with no money and no one knowing who I am, this is what I’d do.
It’s important to recognize the privilege I grew up with.
There’s also race to consider, and how that facilitates opportunities, so I’ll have to do some research on how to balance that. ”
Noah nods in agreement.
“Acknowledge it, but maybe don’t base the whole book around it. If you do it might be more alienating to other communities than inviting.”
“That’s a good point,” I murmur.
“People know how successful you are, they recognize what you’ve built, that you know what you’re talking about. So being as vague as possible while also being very specific is the new art form you’ll have to learn. Or you could do like two or three possible pathways you’d take to survive.”
“There’s also intent,” I butt in, desperate to make this last. “What if I don’t want to make millions. What if the only thing I want is to live at the beach, eat well, and have somewhere to sleep at night.”
This time his nod is more exciting.
“You could present other cases based on lifestyle choices.”
Talking through possibilities with Noah might be the most fun thing I’ve ever done in my life.
And I don’t think that’s an exaggeration.
So when he’s finally standing by his rental car, looking up at me with nervous eyes, biting his bottom lip, I tell him.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you. It’s so easy when I can talk things through with you.”
“You’ll do fine,” he mumbles, then once more pushes his glasses up his nose.
That does it.
I cup his cheeks and lean in slowly, giving him plenty of time to move away, which I’m expecting. But he doesn’t.
It’s significant, how steady his gaze is as he looks up at me, how he just waits, accepts.
That, more than anything, is what gives me hope.
So I kiss him softly, teasing his bottom lip, then his upper one, biting gently, licking away what little sting there is.
“See you soon, sweetheart,” I whisper, and after just one more kiss, I finally step back and watch him gather himself then drive away from me.
It’s true that I’ll use the time here to focus on the book, I already have too many ideas brimming out of me, but I still have a whole company to run, and now I have some research to add to my to-do list.
I’m going to put together an offer for Noah for when we’re both back in the city, one he can’t refuse.
In order to do that, I need to know everything about literary agencies and the publishing business’s financial capacities so I can make a compelling case.
And then I’ll put it on a silver platter for him.
I hope he doesn’t say no when the time comes.