Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“I do.”
I’m hit hard with a glare, but she seems to catch herself. The flash of anger softens as she leans closer to whisper, “We’ve had a good time. Let’s not ruin—” Suddenly looking down at her purse tucked under her leg, she pulls it out and opens it. Her lips part as panic drifts across her expression.
When she looks up again, she says, “I need to go.”
“What? Why?”
She sets her napkin on her chair when she stands. “I’m sorry, Noah.” Grabbing her purse, she tucks it under her arm. “Put it on the card, and I’ll send through the expense, approving it.”
I stand, tossing my napkin to the table. “Is that what you think I’m concerned with? Expensing our dinner? You’ve got it all wrong, Liv—”
“Would you like the check, sir?” the server asks, standing between us.
Handing him a credit card, I say, “Yes, please close it.”
“Was it to your liking?”
I finally turn to him. “It was very good. Thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.” He rushes into the next room, leaving us alone again.
Liv comes closer, touching my arm like we’re old friends. “It’s not personal,” she says. “My friend has food poisoning. I need to check on her.”
“I’ll order a car for you.”
“It’s okay. I’ll catch a cab out front.” She comes closer, our shoes bumping into each other’s. “But I want you to know that I had a good time. I’m sorry I need to leave.”
“I—”
“Here you are, sir.” The server hands me my card and a pen. “Thank you for joining us for dinner tonight.”
“You’re welcome.” I scribble my name, but it’s too late. Liv has already left the table. Dammit.
I make it out to the street to find her standing at the curb with her arm up. “Liv?”
When she turns toward me, tears are sliding down her cheeks. Rushing to her, I take hold of her arm. “Why are you crying?”
“I . . .” A cab pulls to the curb. “I need to go.”
Seeing her upset has my heart beating harder in my chest. I’ll do anything to make her feel better, but how?
I pull the taxi door open and get in the back right after her.
“What are you doing, Noah?”
“I’m not letting you go alone.” I shut the door with her still staring at me.
Opening her mouth twice, I can see her thoughts warring in her eyes. Tugging the seat belt over her shoulder, she shares the address as she buckles in.
As the taxi starts weaving through traffic, I look over at her and ask, “Is your friend okay?”
Her gaze sticks to the window, but the sudden close of her eyes and fall of her head has me concerned. “Liv?”
She looks at me, her eyes taking me in like she’s seeing me for the first time again. From fear to possibilities flashing through her expression, she’s thoroughly confused me. “I need to tell you something, Noah.” Her tone is as serious as her eyes when locked on me like a target. “Something I’ve told very few people, and I need you to promise me that you’ll keep my secret.”
“Okay.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
For a split second, I think she’ll crack a smile and start laughing, but the tears are still in her eyes, and the intensity of her stare has me believing what she says. “I promise not to tell anyone.”
Relief sinks in, her shoulders easing as she closes her eyes. I have no idea what to say or if I should be speaking at all. I think this is a conversation best left for her to lead. But the cab pulls in front of a building, causing her to lean over me to get a good look at it through my window. “This is me.”
I pay and then get out, offering her a hand. With our palms pressed, a spark ignites between us. It’s not sexual, but a connection that we’re in this together. The taxi peels away, the rubber burning against the concrete.
We move from the smoke by starting for the door. She stops under the awning and glances between the door and me. “This could be the biggest mistake of my life.”
“You can trust me, Liv.” I take her hand and lead her to the door. “I swear on my life.”
She stops just before we enter, her eyes pleading as she fists the sleeve of my jacket. “I’m not sure that’s a promise you can keep.” Her voice trembles as she tries to blink away tears. Her gaze hits my chest when she’s unable to hold mine for any longer.
With her hand latched onto me, I hold her elbow and grasp her other wrist that hangs by her side. Her reaction to her friend being sick doesn’t match the illness. “It’s food poisoning. It’s going to suck for twenty-four hours, but after that, she should be fine.” I pull her into my arms for reassurance because I’m at a loss as to how to comfort her worries for her friend otherwise.