Don't Let Go(16)

And I could never eat at the diner again. Or wear red.
I rounded the corner toward the tellers and was stopped short by a huge donation display of a giant red kettle, the sign reading Help our local families. Give at the teller window.
“Show-offs,” I said under my breath.
I started digging for my wallet as I stepped around the obnoxious kettle and right into a pair of arms and hands that I didn’t see and wasn’t ready for.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, my head shooting up. “I’m so sorr—”
My word was cut off as I looked up into Noah’s face. Again. About four inches from mine. Damn it.
“—ry,” I pushed out, as all the air left me.
Time stopped in those few seconds, and all the little nuances of his face that were new registered like files being tucked away. A tiny white scar above his upper lip. Another thin sliver of one through his left eyebrow. The little laugh lines next to his eyes. All new to me, and yet achingly familiar. The subtle scent I’d picked up from him earlier filled my senses as his eyes panned my face in the same three seconds. I wondered what he saw.
His face went neutral again as he dropped his hands from their hold on me and backed up a few inches. I could still feel the heat imprints on my upper arms.
“Sorry,” he echoed.
I should have just gone to work. This was what I got for being a big lame wuss.
I shook my head and gripped my purse strap. “No—um—I’m just—” I pointed at the teller windows so I could shut up. “Going over there.” I noticed he wasn’t, and was kind of hovering around the desks. “What are you doing?”
“Opening an account,” he said, nodding toward an empty desk. “Waiting to, anyway.”
I nodded. Of course he was. That’s what you do when you move to a new place and plan to stay. Forever. Noah and Shayna and the newest little Ryan.
“A joint one?” I blurted out, feeling suddenly like I was standing off to the side watching myself talk.
He smiled. “Not just yet.”
Not just yet. “So don’t you have to have an address or something?”
His eyebrows drew together slightly on that. “My dad’s is fine for now. I just need to get a debit card.” He looked around the room, probably silently begging the bank lady to come back to her desk and rescue him. “We’ll start looking for our own place soon.”
“Oh, good,” I said, shaking my head at myself. Oh, good? Who was using my mouth?
Noah met my gaze again with that infuriating locked-in non-blinking thing of his, and as much as I wanted to look away, walk away, do anything that carried me away—I couldn’t move.
“Listen, I’m sorry about just dropping by earlier,” he said, backing up yet another step. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I shook my head. “It was fine—”
“No, seriously,” he said, the hint of a smile at his lips. “I didn’t take into account that you might have—someone there.”
He ran a hand along the back of his neck on the last words, as though they made him itchy, and I closed my eyes, wishing to die.
“I didn’t—I mean, I don’t—” I stumbled, opening my eyes again. Of all nights to call Patrick. “That wasn’t like that.” I held my chin up, refusing to show weakness.
Noah’s eyebrow shot up, carrying the tiny scar with it. “Okay,” he said on a chuckle. He stepped forward again, and I reflexively crossed my arms. Holding my crazy in. “Jules, relax. You’ve had a life. So have I. We both have someone in our lives, that’s normal.”
“He’s not a—Patrick isn’t a someone.” I blew out a breath, cursing myself for not just going to work. And for talking. Because making myself out to be a rent-a-whore was infinitely better than letting him think Patrick was my boyfriend. I smiled and looked at the floor, drawing in a huge breath before looking back up at him. “You know what, Noah? This is just going to take some getting used to—for both of us.”
Noah let out his own breath, a relieved expression passing over his features. I’d saddled up the white elephant in the room.
“You’re right,” he said softly.
I nodded. “So—let’s just make the best of it and go about our normal days.”
He did a head tilt that signified a shrug. “Whatever normal is.”
I smiled, and ignored the shimmy in my stomach when he smiled back and dropped his eyes to my mouth.
“So, I’m gonna head over there,” I said, pointing to the teller counter. “See you later.”
“Later,” he responded.
I told my feet to walk around him, and they brought me to my destination, where I was eternally grateful that no other customers were around. Because it took me a good minute or two to remember what I was doing and how to do it.
By the time I was done and turned around, he was seated in front of a petite blonde woman, one ankle resting on the other knee and his arm resting across the chair next to him. My knees nearly betrayed me at the beauty of him, so relaxed and confident, yet exuding raw masculinity as he chatted with this woman and smiled as she kept fingering her hair. Well, hell, of course she did. My God, he was positively edible.
I strode out with the intention of looking nonchalant and hoping not to trip over my own feet. When I looked his way and found him watching me leave, however, my throat closed up. I gave a polite smile, which he returned before turning his attention back on the blonde lady having sex with her hair.
I counted my steps back to the car. Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven steps to make it to a place where I could close and lock the door and have a nervous breakdown.