Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Cole rushes in front of me. “Aren’t you the least bit curious who I was talking about earlier?”
I sigh. “Do you have any idea how mad Burton’s gonna be?”
“Our interview isn’t ruined. Noah, I’m trying to tell you—”
“He’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me, and now—”
“Hey, there’s this beautiful invention called e-mail. You can shoot me the questions when you get home, I’ll type up answers, it’ll be pain-free and devoid of the social interaction you despise. Easy as banana cream pie, alright?”
“Cole …”
“You never answered my question earlier.”
“What question?”
“What do you want in a guy?”
I notice Cole’s dog has settled down, no longer tugging on his leash to run off, but sitting by his side instead and staring up at me expectantly, as if wondering the answer to Cole’s question, too. Or she’s just patiently waiting to go to the park and couldn’t care less.
I gnaw on my lip as I drop my gaze to the pavement. For some reason, I find myself actually giving his question thought.
Maybe the answer is important to me.
“I want someone who won’t be indecisive like me. A guy who knows what he wants. Says what he wants. I want a guy in my life who will take the lead. Who can show me confidence in his words and his actions.” I let out a breath. “I want a guy who will … who will show me how to no longer be afraid.”
Then I meet Cole’s eyes, my answer finished.
He seems to be processing what I said.
His lips pucker in thought as he considers me, his eyes never leaving my face. “Sounds like you need me to make the first move. Well, Noah Reed … how’s this for a first move? I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. Since I can even remember. And seeing as you want a guy who shows you confidence in his words and actions …”
Cole takes hold of the back of my head, brings my face to his, and presses his lips against mine like his life depends on it.
Chapter 8
Cole
“Please sit still, you’re fidgeting worse than a two-year-old.”
I stare into the eyes of my makeup artist Mindy, a good friend of Billy Tucker-Strong’s. It’s all I can do to keep from obsessing about yesterday—and what I did to poor Noah.
Did I really kiss him?
Did I really just confess my feelings, too?
What in the hell kind of melodrama land do I think we live in?
“You’re still fidgeting.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, out of breath. “I’m … not used to this whole makeup thing, I guess.”
“No one is. It’s unnatural and smells bad. Just sit still.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, attempting to relax.
The next second, I’m worked up again. “Why did I have to go and do that to him?”
Mindy sighs. She couldn’t care less. “Do what to who?”
“I mean, he said he wanted a guy who takes the lead, right?”
“Sure, I dunno.”
“He was giving me all the signs. All day. I thought he itched for it as much as I did. Was I wrong? Did I misread?”
“Cole …”
“Sorry.”
I take a breath. The lights from the makeup counter make me feel like I’m sitting in an oven. Why does there have to be thirty thousand of them? Not to mention all the scalding lights set up for the shoot itself. I already have back sweat. Do all models have to suffer like this? Apparently the real bane of any model’s job isn’t nerves, critics, or calories. It’s fucking light bulbs.
And then I go off again. “Couldn’t he have said something in response, at the very least? How could he leave me hanging after I showed the very confidence he said he wanted so badly? Instead … he just … took off … left me there like an idiot with my dog.”
“You have a dog?” asks Mindy.
“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, not a wink.”
“I wanted a dog,” she murmurs morosely. “Joel says since his childhood dog passed, he refuses to get another …”
“I’m actually a good guy, too. I wasn’t trying to scare him off. I think I’m exactly the kind of guy he’s looking for.”
“… something about not wanting to ‘replace’ his dog …”
“Or at least I hope I am. I would never dream of harming him. All these years, I wanted to protect him. To make him feel safe. To just … keep him company.” I grimace. “Now I think I might have ruined it all for good. He might never talk to me again.”
Mindy pulls something out of the makeup kit on the counter. “You’re going to want to close your mouth now. Powder time.”
I’m about to say something else, but the powder puff silences me at once as Mindy pats it all over my face, setting the makeup.
I close my eyes, too, which leaves me with just my thoughts—and an image of the last look Noah gave me before he ran away. What were his exact words? “I need to go home and organize my books,” I think they were. But he might as well have said, “I need to go home and masturbate my books,” for as dazed as I was after that kiss.