“Spatulas? How much cooking do you think I plan to do?”
“Dude, if spatulas are your threshold for cooking, I’m guessing not much.” She bumped into his side and smirked.
Noah gave a small smile and shook his head. “Fine. I guess I need a spatula. I can cook eggs, after all.”
“Aw, look at you go.” Kristina winked at him, and her playfulness made him feel lighter than he had in months. He missed this. Maybe he’d been wrong to stay away from her, especially now that she’d seen him at his worst. “So, whenever you’re done Saturday, come grab me and my desk, and then we’ll go shopping for house stuff.”
“Ooh, sounds thrilling.” He gave her a droll stare and tried not to react to the idea of grabbing her.
She laughed, infusing him with more of that lightness. “Don’t be such a boy. Anyway, if anyone can make house stuff thrilling, it’s me, baby.”
Of that, he had no doubt. Kristina had a knack for making the mundane and everyday special and fun.
He wanted this—her—back in his life.
Which meant, somehow, he needed to put Kristina back in the strictly friends box.
Having lost so much over the past months, he knew he couldn’t stomach one more loss. Especially not of his best friend. And though she didn’t seem to be acting differently toward him, he was looking differently at her. Noticing her ass, the curve of her calf in the sling-back heels, all that soft, soft hair flowing around her shoulders in the early summer breeze.
Noah had always thought Kristina was pretty, and had routinely told her when he didn’t think a guy was good enough for her. Because she deserved the best. But he’d never before been distracted by her looks or sexually attracted to her, and now that he’d touched her, some part of him didn’t want to stop.
But it had to stop.
They paused at an intersection and waited for the light, then started across.
Tires screeched. A horn blared. And Noah turned just in time to see a car barreling straight for them.
Chapter Five
Noah grabbed Kristina by the shoulders and hauled her back as an asshole left turner careened by, yelling at them out his window. The car had passed so close that Noah didn’t know how it’d missed her.
“Oh, my God,” Kristina said in a breathless, shaky voice. She turned the rest of the way into his chest, and her being against him was the only thing that kept him from barreling down the street after the sonofabitch. “He would’ve run me over if it weren’t for you.”
Heat shot through Noah’s veins, equal parts adrenaline and rage. And damn his imperfect vision, because he hadn’t been able to catch the license plate. But Kristina was all that mattered.
“Come on,” he said, keeping her tucked tight against his chest and guiding her the rest of the way across. Her pulse was racing so hard he could feel it beating beneath her warm skin.
“You all okay?” an older woman asked.
Noah scanned around them enough to see that more than a few people had witnessed what’d happened. He nodded to the lady. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for asking.” She gave them a worried smile and continued down the sidewalk.
“I’m okay,” Kristina said, her voice shaky.
“I know, but come over here for a minute,” he said. “I’ve got you.” He pulled her behind the column of an office building, wanting to give her a little privacy to react to what’d just happened. No doubt her adrenaline was pumping as much as his, and maybe more, and he knew exactly how the let-down of all those chemicals could screw with your emotions.
She held up her right hand, the back of which was swelling and promised to bruise. A cut marred one busted knuckle. “We match now,” she said in a strained voice.
“Fuck,” Noah said, seething. ?
?Fuck. I didn’t realize he clipped you. Can you make a fist?”
Hand visibly shaking, she curled her fingers and hissed. “Yeah. It hurts, but I think I can. Can you just…would you just…hold me?”
She didn’t have to ask, because just then, he wanted nothing more.
Careful of her hand, Noah hugged her tight against his chest and breathed in her trademark vanilla cream scent. Goddamn that asshole. Fantasies ran through his mind. Of seeing that car again. Pulling the sack of shit out through his window. Introducing the guy’s head to the front grill to see how he liked it. Repeatedly.
“I’m okay,” Kristina whispered after a few minutes. “Just shaking. I’ll be okay.”