Chapter 4 Noah #2
“I’m sorry.” Her hands fisted at her sides and she sucked in a deep breath. “I said I would be cordial and I want to be. I just have a lot on my mind and this…you…our past, it’s the last thing I have time to deal with.”
I nodded. She wasn’t wrong, she did have a lot on her plate right now.
Her job was in jeopardy because of what that punk ass baller had done, and if there was one thing I knew about Serra, it was how important her career was to her.
Admittedly, I was a little surprised that she was a sports agent instead of the lawyer she’d always talked about becoming, but if she’d found her niche, I was happy for her.
“It’s just a run, sweetness.” I resisted the urge to take a step closer to her. “C’mon, keep my company.”
She folded her arms over her chest, her lips lifting into a smirk. “One, stop calling me that. And two, you hate when I talk during a run.”
My grin was back. So, she remembered things about us, too. That shit made me happier than it probably should have. “Since this is like our running reunion, I’ll make a concession this time. You can tell me what you’ve been up to over the years while we get these laps in.”
She shook her head slowly, and I held my breath, praying she wasn’t about to shoot me down once and for all.
“I’m not feeling chatty this morning, but I would like to get on with my run and I know how you can debate something down to the bone. So, let’s just get this over with.”
Before I could respond, she jogged right past me.
Ready to take whatever I could get from her, I started out behind her.
I could’ve easily caught up and run alongside her, but I took a moment to appreciate the dark leggings she wore with the form-fitting T-shirt.
Serra’s back view was just as glorious as her front.
I hadn’t forgotten that and this morning was a welcome reminder.
“If we’re gonna do this you need to stop staring at my ass, Jordan, and put in the work,” she snapped without looking back at me.
The sound of my last name in her voice had a tightness forming in my chest but I laughed it off and picked up the pace until I was by her side. “Shouldn’t look so fuckin’ good, sweetness.” I winked when she shot a frown my way.
SERRA
When the run was over and I thought I was home free, Noah did what he always did: he proved me wrong.
In the weeks after our coffee shop encounter, he proved that he wasn’t like any other guy I’d ever met.
After asking for my number that first day and listening to me give my practiced spiel about not having time for another half-ass man looking to get laid, he’d simply said, “I’m not like any other guy. ”
And he’d been right. In just one short month Noah had been upgraded from the chance I was hesitant to take to the first one to hold my heart.
Throughout the entire time we were together he continuously proved how different he was.
How dedicated and emphatic he was to and about me. And I loved every minute of it.
This morning, after the tension-filled walk, when he’d insisted on escorting me to my car, I’d instinctively argued back.
“I’m literally parked across the street,” I said. “And the sun is starting to come up so you can’t claim it’s too dark for me to walk alone again.”
That wasn’t totally accurate. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the sky had begun its stages of lighting that would precipitate that event.
At any rate, I could see my way across the street and be seen for that matter.
“Whatever, you can just stand right here and watch me walk to my car if that makes you feel better.”
“What will make me feel better,” he began, lightly taking my elbow into his hand as he stepped off the curb, “is if we walk across this street and I see you safely inside your car.”
There was no sense searching for a retort since we were already in the middle of the street.
Providence, the small town located just outside of Arlington, Virginia, didn’t have the multi-laned streets like Manhattan.
There were only two lanes on any of the roads in town and this particular one, was a roundabout at the end of Main Street, which ran from one side of the town to this point.
The street was cobblestone here and around the entire circle.
I’d parked in front of one of the six benches lining the sidewalk around the focal piece of the circle—a huge fountain which would begin spouting water somewhere around eight a.m.
I stopped at the driver’s side door and looked over at him. “We’re here. Thanks so much for the company. Have a nice day.” I sounded like a bitch. No, I sounded like his presence bothered me when in actuality the opposite was true.
I wanted to be near him. To hell with that, I wanted to climb his six-foot-two ass like I used to do and wrap my legs around his waist. The way he would fuck me with my back against a wall—in my bedroom or his, or his living room, or the door—driving into me like he owned me and my pussy was a time I would never forget.
And I wanted that again. I wanted it a couple days ago when we were trapped in that elevator and I still wanted it now.
I’d prayed that desire would go away in the days we hadn’t seen each other but I wasn’t the least bit surprised that it hadn’t.
“Okay,” one side of his mouth tilted in that half smile that always made me wet, “why don’t we just clear the air?”
I stepped away from him and leaned my ass against the door. “How do you suppose we do that?”
“We talk about this tension that’s between us like adults.”
He looked too damn good with that sheen of sweat beading his forehead and creating a long narrow triangle down the front of his T-shirt.
The basketball shorts successfully hid what I knew was a generous amount of dick, but his muscled calves and biceps were mouthwatering enough.
I wanted him naked, wanted to drag my tongue over the taut skin of his chest, to suck the saltiness off his nipple.
I wanted his dick in my hands, in my mouth, m—
“I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Because I didn’t have the right words, didn’t know how to go back to that time when I’d made the only choice I thought I had.
“I do,” he said. “Providence is small as hell. You see we couldn’t go one week without bumping into each other.”
“Because we both like to run early in the morning,” I replied.
He nodded. “Maybe. But are you really planning to stay at your grandfather’s the entire time you’re in town? All because you don’t want to see me?”
I should tell him that’s a lie. Or I should get my ass in this car and pull off. I shrugged instead. “I don’t know how to do this, Noah. This wasn’t a part of my plan.”
“What was your plan?” he asked. “To spend a few days, weeks, here and never see me?”
“Yes,” I shot back. “You said you grew up here and that you hated every second of your childhood. You couldn’t wait to escape to college and you would never step foot back in this town again. How the hell was I supposed to expect that you’d be here?”
“Okay, you’re right about that. But I’m right about us talking. Because the fact is, you’re here and I’m here. Hiding from each other is ridiculous. Come by the bar tonight and we’ll talk.”
“The bar?”
“Yeah, my bar.”
His smile was on full blast then, and I couldn’t help but feel the pride in his words warming my heart.
“My friends and I opened a bar. It’s called Game Changers. It’s two blocks over from here, on the corner of Parks Drive and Selma Road. Come by around seven. I’ll save us a booth, get Jeret to make you some crab balls and onion rings. And we’ll talk.”
When I didn’t immediately respond, he extended his arm and tugged on the end of my ponytail. “Now you know you never pass up crab balls.”
He was right, dammit. I loved seafood, specifically whatever seafood dish my Pop Pop prepared, but there were things I would try from other places.
Anything crab, however, I was always skeptical about just because my grandparents and my mother, were born and raised on Maryland’s Eastern Shore where seafood was like a religion.
And even though they’d all moved away from that area, they’d taken the recipes with them.
I groaned. “You know I’m picky about where I eat crab.”
He nodded. “I do know that and I assure you that Jeret makes crab balls that are comparable to the Maryland style you favor. In fact, I can tell you in confidence that it’s an extremely close knockoff to the crab cakes down at Crabtree’s place.”
“So, someone on your staff is jacking Pop Pop’s recipes and you’re inviting me there to taste it? That’s shady as hell.”
He chuckled, and I couldn’t help it, so did I.
“Hey, don’t forget I told you that in confidence.” His hand dropped from my hair and his knuckles brushed over my cheek, then the line of my jaw.
The touch took my breath and whatever I was about to say flew from my mind. My mouth was still open though and when his finger moved closer to my bottom lip, I almost dipped my head and sucked that shit inside.
Snapping my mouth closed, I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yeah,” I finally managed to say. “I’ll keep your little secret. But if they suck, I’m telling on you and your stealing ass chef.” I moved to turn around then.
He was standing closer than I thought, and the side of my arm brushed against his chest as I moved.
His arm that had been extended toward me, didn’t move, and now I was sort of locked in to him.
He lowered that arm until his fingers were at my waist, and with one tug, I was against him again.
I guess I could be thankful that my titties weren’t pressed against his nice hard chest for a third time in as many days, but still, he was touching me, holding me, and I couldn’t hate it as much as I wanted to.
“They won’t suck.” He leaned in until his lips brushed along my ear. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered before licking my lobe.
I immediately sucked in a breath, my eyes involuntarily closing as desire swarmed my body. “Yeah.” I cleared my throat again. “See you later.”
His teeth clamped down on my lobe then, and I swallowed hard.
I remembered everything about that tongue.
All the nasty and delicious things he used to do with it, all the nasty and delicious things I always wanted him to do with it.
My heart hammered in my chest, and my panties were more wet from arousal than sweat at this moment.
“Later,” I mumbled, forcing myself to pull out of his grasp. “I’ll see you later, Noah.”
He moved and I hurriedly turned my back to him so I could dig down into my shirt where I’d stuffed my car keys in my bra. I yanked them out and had just unlocked the car door when he spoke again, “Jordan,” he said. “Call me Jordan, the way you used to.”
Glancing over my shoulder I found his heated gaze on me. His tone was deep, that timbre that came only when he was aroused. “We’re not who we used to be,” I said. “Not anymore.”
And I wondered what that really meant. He probably wondered the same, but he didn’t ask and I didn’t stick around to find out if he would figure it out first.