11. Noah/Macey #3
“No, I didn’t mean…” He backtracked, stuttering over his sentence. “I mean I did, but?—”
Jennifer, clad in the sleekest black dress I’d ever seen, interrupted. “There’s my favorite couple!”
I was very confident she said that to every couple on the press trip at some point.
“We’re taking a group picture at the front of the boat.” She nudged us along. “Make sure your pretty faces are in it.”
My feet walked my body to the front, but my mind was long gone, full of hazy images. Noah, pressing me against the bar. His thigh in between mine, mouth hot on my neck. Dissolving into kisses that gave way to more. Passion. Heat. Noah, Noah, Noah.
I couldn’t help the part of myself that wondered how Noah would act in bed. In front of everyone, he was the cocky influencer who held fame in one hand and confidence in the other. When it was just us, he was hesitant and off-guard. Soft, even.
Would he strike the balance between soft and hard, rough in bed but down for tender cuddles after? Would he hold me through the entire night, or pin me down just to thrust?—
Macey, stop the dirty thoughts.
At this rate, I’d need to jump into the ocean to cool down.
I settled for reminding myself that sex with Noah, the guy I was fake dating, would be a very bad idea.
The mood on board grew more intimate after the photo as a few stars appeared on the horizon. The crew dimmed the lights, enhancing the natural beauty of twilight. Soft lanterns and fairy lights added a magical touch.
Noah and I filtered through the crowds with a practiced ease, like we had done this a million times together.
We spent a shockingly large amount of time spinning up lies to questions people had about our relationship.
Like to Francesca, the woman in front of us.
Big influencer from Italy. She asked, in the sweetest of accents, “How did you two meet?”
I was ready to answer the question, but Noah jumped in.
Rude, considering I had a friendly spin on the how we met story.
In reality, we hit it off and planned to help each other with a campaign showcasing snowy Chicago spots, only for him to ghost me weeks later.
In my version of the story, we went through with it, only for him to realize he was in love with me in Millennium Park.
Noah’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me closer. “We were both covering a world showcase event about a year ago. I spotted the most beautiful girl across the street. After working up the courage to talk to her, I just knew.”
“Knew what?” I asked, my voice tight with curiosity.
Noah met my gaze, his eyes softening as a gentle smile tugged at his lips. “I knew that anyone who got to be with you would be the luckiest person alive. Too bad it took us so long to get here.”
“But you’re both here now,” Francesca said with a smile.
When Noah smiled, the freckles on his face moved.
Like stars in the night sky, searching for their next home above us.
And when I smiled back at him, I think they found a place to call permanent.
Because that smile didn’t leave his face for a long while.
Based on the way my cheeks hurt, mine didn’t either.
It was a while until we were alone again. I would’ve counted time with my pulse, but it had been fluttering out of control all night.
I should probably get that checked.
We were sailing back to land, and we were likely not far from returning to harbor. In the back of the boat, it was the two of us facing each other, proud looks on our faces. “I think we successfully fooled everyone today,” I said. “Did you get any photos of us?”
Noah stared at me, confused.
“You need to post a bunch of photos tonight, remember? Jennifer thinks we’re together, so she’s going to expect you to post about us.” I paused. “And me too, I guess.”
“Right.” It dawned on him, but he didn’t look happy about it. Odd, considering his life consisted of photos on social media. “Scoot in for a selfie.”
I did. He held his phone out in front of us, the selfie camera on. He hooked his free arm around my shoulders and flashed a smile. A real one. It would no doubt stand out against the gimmicky grins he usually posted.
After, I tried to glimpse the phone to see how the photo turned out, but Noah slipped it into his back pocket. I reached for it, but he grabbed my hand.
“Are you trying to grab my ass?” he asked, fake-scandalized. “In public? ”
“Maybe I need to remind everyone here who my fake boyfriend fake belongs to.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “There’s no one around us.”
“Right. We are alone.” I acted disappointed. “Guess there’s no claim staking needed.”
The reminder did something to me. Lit a new fire inside my belly, one that could only be doused by stepping closer to Noah. I suspected he felt the same heat because he stepped toward me until our chests were brushing.
He leaned in closer and I stood dangerously still, not wanting to disturb the moment. The steady waves brushing against the boat. The twinkling stars in the sky.
Logical me said you idiot, didn’t you just tell yourself this would be a bad idea ?
Horny me said fuck it, kiss him anyways .
Noah’s nose brushed against mine, and that was it. I was a goner. If you had asked me a year ago if I would ever be desperate for a kiss from Noah Hansley, I would have died of laughter. Now I might die if he didn’t kiss me.
He stepped a hair closer.
Then his ankle buckled and he tumbled overboard.