Chapter 13 #2
Dahlia could feel her forehead crease. Did he not want to be seen with her?
Dahlia couldn’t conceive of that being the truth, but how well did she know him?
Plus, he could have been rethinking the age thing.
Something had felt different right off the bat with him, but could she fully trust the unexplainable pull that felt magnetic and electrifying?
It had been her experience that if something felt too good to be true, it usually was.
But that didn’t have to be her and Noah.
“Hey, you two.” Gretchen walked over in her cute maxi dress and messy bun.
Noah sprang to his feet and hugged her. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” Gretchen deadpanned.
“Right.” Noah nodded.
Dahlia took a double-take. Seeing them side by side, she saw the resemblance, especially in their eyes. They both shared the most stunning blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Hi, Gretchen.”
“Hey.” She gave a little wave to Dahlia. “So, what are you kids up to?”
“Watching an old movie. Want to join?” Noah scanned the crowd behind her as if to see if they noticed his name being shouted across the lawn.
Selfishly, Dahlia hoped Gretchen would say no. She wanted Noah all to herself.
“Nah, I’m meeting someone for drinks.”
Dahlia felt her shoulders fall in relief.
“You are, are you?” Noah said with a cheeky grin.
“Get your head out of the gutter. She and I are just friends.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Noah said, nudging her arm.
“Well, I’ll let you two get to it,” said Gretchen.
Dahlia and Noah looked at each other and laughed.
“Not like that. I’m a little nervous,” Gretchen said, fanning herself.
“You’ll be great,” Dahlia said, looking up at the girl who was human after all. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks.” Gretchen smiled. “I’d better go.” She started to walk away and turned back.
“Hey, Dahlia, maybe one day you can come by and give me some last-minute art advice. You know, before we open.”
“I’d love to,” Dahlia said, feeling her voice lighten.
A friendly relationship with a sister was a foreign concept to her.
Spence’s sister Emily hated her from the very beginning for trapping him, despite it being the furthest thing from the truth.
She resented Dahlia for “ruining” his college experience because he had so much “guilt.” The Newberrys weren’t people to own their scandals.
They much preferred the blame game. Emily had said on many occasions that Dahlia only had Daisy to get their family money.
The irony was that she never took a dime from them, even when she had to secure a second job to make ends meet before Spence came back.
“Later.” Gretchen waved as she stepped up onto the boardwalk.
“She likes you.” Noah sat back down next to Dahlia.
“You think?” Dahlia shrugged, wanting him to move closer.
“Yeah, it usually takes her months, even years, to warm up to someone.” He looked up at the boat lights that flickered in the distance.
Dahlia wasn’t sure what was different for Gretchen this time, but she wasn’t going to waste another moment pondering it.
She looked out over the water and closed her eyes, wanting to stay buried in this moment forever.
In the feeling of being wanted for more than her managerial skills.
Of being wanted for simply being herself.
The sounds of masts echoed in her ear like a concert, breaking her from her peaceful interlude.
The putting on a hat and glasses business still bugged her a little. Although she wasn’t the kind of person to get right to the point, she was running out of time and didn’t want to play games. This entire situation already felt out of her comfort zone. “Do you like me, Noah?” Dahlia asked.
He was quiet. He looked around, trying to avoid the question.
“Oh, that much, huh?” She laughed, not knowing what else to do.
Deep down, she knew he did. A man doesn’t kiss a woman that way unless there are feelings involved.
But Dahlia needed to know why he was holding back in his words.
And she needed to understand why he was hiding their relationship, especially when going to a very public place had been his idea.
“D, I like you too much. That’s the problem.” He laced her fingers with hers.
That simple motion made her heart skip a beat. She wondered if he would always be this hard to read. “Then I don’t get it.”
“I don’t want to get hurt.” He shook his head.
“Neither do I. And I certainly don’t want to hurt you.” Her eyes met his.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said.
“Like what?” Dahlia asked, tilting her head with a sincere tone in her voice. Hearing what happened from him made her wonder if he did trust her. “Come on. Out with it.”
He took in a lungful of sea air and blew slowly. “I got my heart broken on national television last year. There are memes about me all over social media. With my shocked face, the moment I opened the door on my ex having sex with my best friend.”
Her heart sank. Hearing it in his words broke something inside her. It also made her angry—that someone could be so cruel and hurtful to someone that she cared about. “Is that why you’re trying to be incognito?” She gestured to the hat and sunglasses.
“Bingo. When I heard my name earlier, I froze.”
“Okay, I thought, maybe …” She exhaled in relief.
“Geez, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. Come here.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into him.
“No, you’re not,” Dahlia said, settling her face into the crook of his neck. God, he smelled good.
“She made a fool out of me.” He cleared his throat. “For months after it happened, the paparazzi were everywhere. I couldn’t escape, which meant every day I had to relive it. I was followed, stalked, and harassed. It took a toll on my mental health.”
Even after an entire year, he still seemed wrecked over it. The realization that he might not yet be over his ex crushed Dahlia. She squeezed her eyes shut and held him tighter. “I’m really sorry, Noah. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I swore off women after that. Then you came along and uprooted my plan with your feisty attitude and see-through tank top.” He laughed.
“Oh, my God.” Dahlia instinctively drew back, covering her chest. She’d honestly hoped he’d been so inebriated that he’d forgotten about it.
“I saw everything.” He looked at her with lust-filled eyes. “Both times.”
Her face turned as red as a cherry, and she buried her head in her hands. “I’m mortified; no wonder you couldn’t take me seriously.”
He tilted his head and bit his lip in the most playful yet seductive way. “Not sure I’d want it to happen any other way, D.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And for the record, I got spooked before because this”—he pointed between them—“feels like it needs to be guarded.”
He went on to tell her about Josie, how they’d been together since high school, and how she changed when they landed the Hamptons House gig together. Dahlia sat motionless and listened intently, just as any friend would.
“What part changed?’ she asked. There was a big part of her that wanted to know every last detail, and the other, smaller part of her wanted it to stay buried along with Lil’s secret.
“I got the show first, and then they brought her in the following summer. She was outgoing and kind, but the fame changed her. She started caring way too much about her image, and it was clear that my past didn’t serve her brand.”
People shuffled by, trying to find open grass for their chairs and blankets.
The sounds of a nearby microphone lent static to the twilight summer air.
Dahlia didn’t want Noah to feel rushed; she wanted him to feel grounded in the present with her.
She leaned closer and held his hand, urging him with a warm smile to continue.
Noah talked about his best friend from college, Danny, who got the gig when he did, and how they deceived him for months.
Dahlia could tell the wounds were still raw from the way he spoke down to his defeated body language.
The muscles in her jaw tightened like a vice.
She knew exactly how he felt. She and Spence hadn’t ever been in a great place, but being abandoned, left, never felt good.
It was like nothing you did was ever enough.
Dahlia had grown to understand it was a Spence thing, and not a her thing, and she hoped eventually Noah would too.
“Looking back, there were clues. They’d always be paired together for house projects and competitions.” His breath hitched. “I often wonder if some of the producers knew and purposefully put them together. I’m a bit jaded.” He snickered.
“Nah, couldn’t tell.” She lightheartedly brushed it off while feeling pulled to watch it for herself.
The show sounded interesting. An old house, one summer to get it from fixer to fabulous, sort of like Lil’s.
But at the end of the day, she was remarkably protective of Noah.
Seeing it would only unearth feelings that were better staying buried.
After he finished sharing, she mentioned she knew a few things from Kara, but that she’d never seen the show.
Noah seemed to like that. The movie began, and it was picturesque, with the full harbor of boats clanking in the background.
About halfway through, when the air had a bite to it, he wrapped her up in an extra blanket he had brought, securing her close to his chest. That was all she needed to doze off finally.
After it was over, he gently woke her, never once making her feel bad.
The drive home was quiet as she sank into the crook of his arm, relishing in the proximity that felt both intimate and comforting.
“Thanks for a great night.” He walked her up the front porch. “I forgot how good that movie is.”
“Sorry I missed most of it. It’s been a long few days.” She turned to face him. Plus, she’d barely slept when he was gone.
“It’s okay. It was nice just to hold you. Your heartbeat is peaceful.”
“It is?” Dahlia wrinkled her nose.
“It is. You make me peaceful, D,” he said.
“You do the same for me, Noah,” she said with a truth that felt as pure as honey. “Do you want to come in? For a nightcap?” Dahlia cringed inside. Did people still say that?
He hesitated. “I better not.”
“Okay.” Dahlia stared at her feet, wishing she hadn’t asked.
“Can I see you tomorrow night? I have to run over to the island during the day, but we could …?”
Dahlia inched closer so as not to miss a word.
“Go to dinner,” he said, now leaning on the door frame.
“Sure, I’d like that,” Dahlia said, looking up at him, yearning for one last kiss.
He caressed her face and pulled her up toward him. “Night,” he said, pecking her nose.
“Night.” Dahlia stood there, not wanting him to go. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” she said, slipping off her jacket and throwing it onto the banister.
“I’m going before I change my mind,” he said, walking backward.
She closed the door and dropped her aroused body onto the bench. “You’re officially driving me insane, Noah Sterling.” Dahlia leaned her head against the wall, for the first time feeling conflicted about her decision to move away soon.
Harry strolled over and stretched. She leaned over and canoodled him, hitting the pressed flowers box with her elbow.
Maybe she should open the box tonight. It would be a good distraction, and she was certainly no longer tired.
Contemplating the quandary, she felt her forehead wrinkle.
If she were going to date a younger man, she needed to get on that wrinkle cream.
She added it to the list in her head. The irony wasn’t lost on Dahlia; in all the years Spence had asked her to put more effort into her appearance, she now wanted to, and it was because she wasn’t with him. “Shall we take a peek?”
Harry barked, ogling her with his dark eyes.
Dahlia took that as a yes, pulling open the dusty flaps. She peered inside and reached for the first thick and lumpy album. She let out a cough as her fingers lingered over the top. The cover read Rose Garden in beautiful, romantic calligraphy.
The first page stuck, but Dahlia was able to peel it back without tearing the other pages.
There was a pressed rose on every page. “This is so you, Lil,” she mumbled.
Most were unrecognizable but labeled, with a name and number written underneath.
She turned to the last page, which was a faded pink, and read Claire Austin.
There was a lump in her throat as she pulled back the corner and touched the dried keepsake.
The surface was now hard and lifeless. Dahlia wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
Part of her was happy to see Lil’s handwriting and evidence of her creative existence, but the other part made her sad.
She didn’t exactly know why. Something about this find felt different, as if she were an intruder.
Album one stopped at page seven.
The next album read Rose Garden 2. She carefully turned to Fragrant Plum, number eleven. Its once vibrant mulberry color now looked void of any depth and life. The pages were numbered eight through fifteen.
The last read Rose Garden 3, numbered to twenty-two.
Dahlia laid them on the floor, her eyes filled with tears.
“Lil, I miss you.” Dahlia’s voice cracked.
She missed Lil but also missed having people to count on and a family to call her own.
Spence had never been much of a consolation.
Her dry cleaner was more like a husband than he was—he asked how her day was and took something off her plate.
Harry ran to the back door and whimpered.
She wiped her nose and got up, walking over to let him out. The screen door snapped behind her. The night air was cool as it skimmed her cheek. She paced the grass, noticing how bright and clear the sky was.
Her phone dinged. It was Noah.
Two can play, it said, along with a picture of him in bed, shirtless, chiseled and slick like he’d just exerted himself, with his finger tucked inside his white briefs.
She covered her mouth, suddenly feeling her insides ablaze.
“Geez, mixed signals much?” She looked up at Noah’s window.
The light was still on. Her breath quickened, and she tingled in places that had been dormant for far too long.
Dahlia hadn’t thought she was capable of desire like this.
It made her wonder if she could have it all: a career and love.
And if so, how in God’s name would it work? She was moving in twenty-four days.