RUSH (City Lights, #3)(64)

“You look beautiful.”

I almost teased him back that he was just flattering me, but I could see he meant it, in whatever way he perceived me. “Thank you.”

He bent to kiss me and shivers danced along my spine. It was a gentle kiss, but with Noah, I had quickly come to find out, there was always a smoldering energy in every touch, ready to ignite.

I pulled away with a nervous laugh. “This is…weird.”

“Weird? Why?”

“Being with someone again. I’m just not used to it, I guess. And we’re already living together…”

“We’re taking it slow, remember?”

“And what about the whole employee/employer thing?” I asked. “I don’t particularly want to talk about us in a business sense, but don’t we have to deal with that?”

“Yeah, we do,” Noah said. “But can we have one date first?”

“Yes, please.” I laughed. “Are you ready to go?”

Noah frowned. “I guess so. We’re not eating there, right? I think I’ve had enough Annabelle’s to last me a lifetime.”

“No, we’re going to a little bagel place on Amsterdam, but I promised Anthony I’d stop by Annabelle’s. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

He rubbed his chin. “They know me there, don’t they? Or they know of me. The * shut-in who kept firing his assistants?”

I grasped his hand that wasn’t holding the white stick. “You don’t have to do a single thing you’re not up for. I can always call Anthony—”

Noah swooped down and captured my mouth with his in another breathtaking kiss. I practically staggered back when he let me go, dizzy with the sudden rush of desire that shot up and down my body like lightning.

“Um, okay,” I breathed. “That was…stimulating.”

Noah brought his hand up to my chin, tracing my lower lip with his thumb. “It will make you happy to go to Annabelle’s, right? So let’s go to Annabelle’s.”

My heart swelled and I tried not to get overly emotional, but it was taking some time to get used to this; the heady euphoria of being cherished and cared for. I felt reckless and impetuous, but also exhilarated too. I felt like how a skydiver must feel the moment before she throws herself out of the plane.

*

On the sidewalk outside, Noah took the crook of my arm with his left hand and held his white stick in his right.

“Talk about weird,” he muttered.

“You’ll get used to it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I gave his hand a squeeze.

We walked, and I could practically feel the tension coiled tight in Noah’s every muscle. His mouth was turned down in a mask of concentration and his grip on my arm was a smidge shy of uncomfortable. But by the time we turned up Amsterdam Street, he was walking easier, his white stick tapping the sidewalk—damp from last night’s deluge—side to side in a light rhythm.

I didn’t want to make Noah self-conscious, so I bit back the stream of joyful encouragement that was threatening to pour out of me, and just strolled with him.

We arrived at Annabelle’s, its yellow and white striped awning sagging with a small puddle of rainwater. The restaurant was busy but not packed. Maxine greeted us at the door with her usual stiff smile. “Two for breakfast?”

“Hello, Maxine.”

She blinked under layers of black kohl eyeliner and silver eye shadow, then recognition dawned on her face. “Charlotte? My, my, you look…different!” She recovered herself quickly, and her over-painted lips turned down in their usual tight frown. She glanced over my shoulder at Noah and I saw her eyes widen slightly but she said nothing; she wasn’t about to show she’d been caught off-guard twice.

“Hmmph? Breakfast?”

“No, we’re just here to see—”

“Conroy! Get over here.”

Anthony strode across the entry and swept me up in his arms. He lifted me clear off the ground in a huge bear hug, before setting me down and holding me at arm’s length.

“You’re looking good, girl!”

“That’ll do, Mr. Washington,” Maxine said, swatting Anthony’s arm lightly with a menu. “After he’s done making a scene, Anthony will take care of you,” she told me, and left to attend other customers with a final, parting smirk.

“Who’s your friend?” Anthony asked casually though he flashed his eyes comically at me.

“This is Noah Lake,” I said, beaming. “Noah, this is my good friend Anthony Washington.”

Noah offered his hand uncertainly. “Good to meet you, man.”

“You too, you too.” Anthony reached over and shook it heartily, though he was looking at me and bursting with questions. “Hey, I got just the table for you…”

“Oh, we can’t stay,” I began, but Noah nudged my elbow.

“I can stand one more omelet from here if you can.”

“You sure?”

“Hang out with your friend, Charlotte. I’m good. Or, I will be once we sit down and I don’t feel like everyone’s staring at me.”

“No one’s staring at you.” I saw Clara rushing over, her eyes wide, auburn ponytail flying. “Well, almost no one.”