Noah’s grin blossoms into a full smile, drawing my attention exactly where it shouldn’t be: his mouth. Full lips stretched across straight teeth and a dimple in his left cheek that I would totally want to lick if we were adulting. Which we’re not.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been friends with a girl,” he adds.
Still thinking about the dimple, I shake my head. “Yeah, it doesn’t really work out well. We should probably just hook up now and get it over with.”
The look on his face is priceless. His mouth drops open, and then he snaps it shut.
“Lennon,” he warns, his voice low and hard.
“Sorry.” I hold my hands up. “Sorry. It won’t happen again. Can’t blame a girl for trying, though.”
I’m not sorry at all. Not in the least.
“So, does this mean you’ll let me help around the house now?” I ask. “At least until Nova gets back? Because I really do feel bad about the accident. Plus, it’ll give me something to do. I’m bored as hell over there,” I say, pointing toward my new little home.
“I would like that.”
So, that’s what I do. In between Game of Thrones episodes, I do whatever I can to help around the house and keep Noah off of his foot, which I quickly realize is a difficult task. It becomes crystal clear real fast that Noah is a do-it-yourself kind of person. Lucky for him, I’m here to shove him back in the chair every time he tries to get up.
The afternoon flies by. Between vacuuming, mopping, and doing the dishes, Noah and I talk a lot. Mostly mundane stuff—nothing too personal because heaven forbid we venture into adulting territory. And I see no reason to tell him why I’m here. Not yet, at least.
Noah tells me this house used to be his grandmother’s and he practically grew up here. He inherited it after her death and moved in the same week Nova was born.
He goes on to tell me all about Heaven and what it has to offer, including his favorite restaurants and shops. When I collapse on the couch at the end of the day, he tells me about the small automotive shop he owns in town.
Only it really isn’t all that small. From the sound of it, Noah is making quite the name for himself.
Hands resting behind his head, he frowns. “I’m overbooked and understaffed.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” I ask. “Job security.”
“Yes, but I can’t tell anyone no. I don’t like to turn down business, and neither does my secretary, who’s about to go on maternity leave,” he says, laughing.
“Hence the ‘more than full time’ work status you were telling me about?”
“Exactly.”
“Why don’t you just hire more staff?”
“Sounds easy, I know, but I’m a bit of a stickler. I won’t hire just anyone.”
“Hire me,” I blurt. “I can help out while she’s gone.”
Narrowing his eyes, Noah shakes his head. “That would be a disaster. Working with someone I’m attracted to? I’d have a walking hard on every fucking day.”
A smile pulls at my lips, and my heart stammers in my chest. I like that he’s attracted to me and I turn him on. Makes me think someday he could overcome this notion that we should be just friends. Because I think we could be far more than that.
“I get it. But the offer is there if you change your mind,” I say, my words fading into a yawn.
Noah rests his head back on the couch. “Tired?”
“Exhausted. I should probably get going.”
A look passes over his face. I can’t quite place it, but it’s almost as though he doesn’t want me to leave. Unfortunately, I know he won’t ask me to stay.
I gather my belongings and head to the front door. “I’ll stop by in the morning.”
With my hand on the doorknob, Noah calls to me.