Chapter 8Noah
Noah
“Iam telling you it was a disaster.” Rachel’s voice is way too loud for gossiping in the salon’s break room.
It’s one of those times during our work hours when we both have an excuse to be here long enough to gossip and catch up before we attend to our next client.
I am eating my lunch while Rachel files her nails next to me.
I motion with my hand for her to turn the volume down unless we want Danielle in here giving one of her ‘gossip is poor taste and truly not flattering’ lectures.
“At least you got an orgasm out of it.” I say with a grin, and she tosses her nail file at me. She has this nasty habit of always filing her nails, even though they are perfect. It’s like she uses the damn thing as a stress ball.
“Anyway.” She kneels on the floor and takes the file in her hand again. “How was your Sunday night without me?” The question I was dreading follows.
“I went to that coffee shop we like.” I take a bite from my salad trying to look totally innocent. I just drank coffee and read a book... with a hot blond who apparently secretly likes smut and has a smile that Zeus would be jealous of.
“The one with the comfy armchairs?” Rachel is smart, and if she had been paying attention, she would have noticed the change in my body language and in my voice tone.
Her questions would have been different and more spot-on, because that’s the friendship we have.
We know each other so well that we can’t successfully lie to one another.
Instead of doing that, my friend is too busy staring at her phone. Her quiet phone, for a change.
“Yes, that one.” She turns to look at me, finally catching up.
“Noah, you look guilty.” She eyes me from head to toe with that ‘you are hiding something’ look.
“I might have run into Leo while I was there.” I take another bite of my salad, then another. I keep stuffing my face in hopes that I can get out of the interrogation that I know is coming, if I am too busy choking on lettuce to answer.
“What was Leo doing there?” She asks instead, which I don’t blame her for. I was surprised as well.
“Apparently he likes coffee.” I could stop here. She wouldn’t even notice there’s more to it, but I can’t stop myself. “He also likes books, and I am pretty sure he likes me too.” I add with a grin, decorating my face, and wiggle my eyebrows. I am hopeless. I can’t keep anything a secret.
“Of course he likes you. I could have told you that already.” She sounds annoyed, as if the information were clear to everyone but me.
“Well, I think we kind of had our first date.” I stuff more salad into my mouth.
Rachel looks at me, blinks a couple of times, parts her lips to talk, but I stuff a forkful of salad into it before she can say anything.
She chuckles while chewing, and once she swallows, she parts her lips again, but this time she puts her hand up, stopping me before I can do anything. “That’s a good salad, but not good enough to distract me from the point, Noah.” She smiles. “Spill!”
I sigh. “Fine.” I stand from the couch and approach the bin, throwing the almost empty container with my salad and the plastic fork.
When I return to the couch, Rachel offers me a sealed bottle of water, and I nod a ‘thank you’.
“He came to my table without asking, sat down, and started reading his own book on his Kindle app.”
“Oh my god. What did you do then?” She leans forward, waiting for the next part of my story.
“We talked about music, books, and we have so much in common it’s ridiculous.
” We do have a lot of things in common; sadly, one of them is the fact that none of us are interested in dating or romance.
Even if I were to change my mind, it wouldn’t even matter, because he doesn’t want romance in his life.
“When are you going to see him again?” Rachel asks with excitement.”
I sigh and sink into the couch defeated. “I won’t. He doesn’t date.”
“Bullshit.” She shouts in a perfect imitation of our coworker, who dismisses everything by saying ‘bullshit’ in a theatrical way.
But as much as I wish for it to be true, I know it’s not. This man is emotionally unavailable, and if I know my own good, I will stay the fuck away.