Don't Let Go(89)

Really, really, truly could have used that Coke just then, as my mouth turned into a sandbox. He was headed behind the counter and stopped cold when he saw me, shrugging out of his jacket and walking our way.
“Oh, crap,” I muttered, not meaning it to be out loud, but that was my life.
“What?” Becca said. “Ohhhh . . .”
A very particular kind of stabbing, wrenching, piercing pain sliced through my middle as his eyes met mine. They were freakishly blue in that light, and warm, and I had to look someplace else. Like at Becca, who was clearly watching me to see if I’d disintegrate.
“Ladies,” he said, his expression jovial with a side of longing.
Shit.
He looked positively friggin’ edible in a long-sleeved button-down black dress shirt and black jeans. I didn’t see his feet. I couldn’t care less about his feet. I wondered if he was meeting Shayna for a night out. Maybe dancing. Maybe I’d throw up, later.
“Hey, Noah,” I said.
“Mr. Ryan,” Becca said.
“Oh, no, no,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “See that ornery, crotchety old man over there? That’s Mr. Ryan,” he said. “Please—Noah or Hey you will work just fine.”
Becca laughed. “Okay, Hey you, what’s up?”
Noah laughed. “That’s good. You’re a joy, aren’t you?”
“That’s the rumor,” she said, snickering at her own wittiness.
I wanted to be witty. All I was was sweaty. His hand landed on my shoulder then, nearly sending me into sweaty orbit.
“I wanted to see if you still had that picture you took of me and Seth—here at the diner?” he said.
The one I still couldn’t look at? Sure. “Of course,” I said, fumbling with my phone.
Photos—where were the photos? Nope, that wasn’t it. Finally, I pulled them up and scrolled, hoping he didn’t notice that my fingers were trembling. Jesus, this was ridiculous. A week without seeing him and I was right back to the blithering idiot I’d been when he arrived in town.
My thumb froze on the photo in question, and my heart did a jump around in my chest. Their heads together, looking at me, so alike. And Noah’s eyes—shit.
“Here you go,” I said, handing it up to him.
He didn’t take the phone from me, he just put his hand over mine, holding it with me as he gazed upon the image and smiled.
Glaze over, I told myself. Don’t show weakness. Don’t show anything. Glaze, damn it. Glaze over, glaze over—
“Great picture,” he said. “Mind if I send it to myself?”
I let go of the phone, letting him do his thing, fully aware that I’d now have his number. And he would have mine. And now I could completely officially obsess over him never calling me.
“Didn’t Shayna take some too?” I asked, bringing his eyes back to me like a wrecking ball.
“Yeah, but she left before I got them.”
Everything in me went still.
“She left—like—on a trip?” I asked.
“One-way trip,” he said, typing in his number. He met my eyes again. “She’s back in Virginia with her family.”
He handed my phone back to me, and as much as I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. I was stuck. What the hell did that mean, Shayna leaving? And when did this happen?
“Are . . . you okay?” I asked, clearing my throat.
He nodded. “I’m fine. How are you?”
I smiled at Becca and patted her hand. “A night with my girl. Never better.” When I looked back up, there was a look of something that made my breath catch in my throat.
“So!” Becca said, clasping her hands together. I jumped at the sound of her voice, breaking the gravity his gaze held me with. “You look nice, all duded out. Big night?”
Bless you, Becca, for asking that.
“I hope so,” Noah said. “Leaving to meet up with my old boss about a job.
That jerked my head around again and this time I searched his face for answers. For something. No tells, no clues. When he looked my way again, his eyes were clear.
The two seconds of hope I’d felt at the news of Shayna’s departure were stomped down and ground out. He was focused and clear and driven.
And ready to leave the place that always muddied that.
It wasn’t meant to be. It never was. And that had to be okay. I nodded and smiled up at him.
“Good luck, Noah,” I said.
There was a long pause and a look I couldn’t read.
“Thanks,” he said, with a small smile. “You two have a good night.”
He walked away, leaving a gaping hole in his wake. And it was everything I could do to hold it together. I turned to face Becca, not quite able to look her in the eye. I couldn’t. My eyes were burning, my chest was tight, and I looked around the room looking for a focal point. I clamped my jaws together as tight as I could to push it back.
“Mom.”
“Hmm?” I said, as the blessed Coke finally arrived and I drank down half of it before even finding the straw. Anything to cool my jets.
“You still love him, don’t you?”

? ? ?

Her words, spoken soft and mature and knowing, as if she were twice her age, made me chuckle.
“Don’t be silly,” I said.
She gave me a look. “I thought we were being honest. I know what you look like when you’re trying not to cry, Mom, so save it.”
I smiled, though it wasn’t real. Opened my straw and stirred my ice.
“Yeah, I guess you are more perceptive than I’m prepared to admit,” I said.
Becca scoffed. “Not really,” she said. “But after Seth said that about you and Mr.—Noah—the other day, well, now it just seems crazy not to see it.”