Chapter 46

Aftermath


It might have helped to know she had a boyfriend, Noah texted, then punched his code into the keypad to the new apartment—new to him, that is. The door stayed firmly locked.

Ryan: She doesn’t.

Noah: Tell that to the guy holding her hand.

Ryan: Hand-holding isn’t definitive. Besides, she asked about you!

Noah: He also kissed her cheek. At the YCS social.

He punched in the code again, with the same result. Grumbling, he tried again. Apparently, the door’s keypad preferred a soft touch. This place was a big step up from his old one, though it wasn’t as nice as Matt’s.

“Hey.” Jake, his only roommate, looked up from the video game he was playing in the living room. “How was the social?”

It was a nice change to have a roommate who occasionally acknowledged the real world. “Not bad,” Noah hedged, focusing on how good the food—and company—had been before Alec had shown up.

“Nice.” Jake nodded, going back to his game.

“Oh, and someone told me to tell you hi,” Noah said, remembering the girl he’d met during cleanup. They’d covered the usual get-to-know-you questions, and she’d recognized his roommate’s name.

Jake pulled away again, curious. “Someone?”

“Yeah. Can’t remember her name. Reddish-brown hair, dark eyes, short, athletic.”

His eyebrows ticked up. “Melissa?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Names were always hard for Noah, even when he wasn’t drowning in failure.

“Huh,” Jake said, his expression lighter. Several seconds ticked by before the sound of his game started back up, bringing a smile to Noah’s face as he went to his room. Maybe Jake’s luck would be better than his.

Having a private room was possibly the best thing about the new place. Noah closed his door and slumped onto the twin bed to take his shoes off. One more year, and then he would be able to afford a down payment on a place of his own. The first thing he’d buy after that would be a man-sized bed.

At least he wasn’t six-five.

Like Alec.

Alec, who had swooped in and taken Grace when Noah wasn’t looking. “A day late and a dollar short,” his mom would say. It felt like a personal insult.

Noah placed his shoes in the empty slot on his shoe rack, pulled out his phone, and flopped onto his back, checking to see if Ryan had replied.

He hadn’t.

It had felt so good to see Grace again, in spite of a twinge of guilt for surprising her the way he had. In Mexico they’d both been shocked. This time he’d deliberately inserted himself into her world, catching her at a disadvantage. He’d tried to let her know his intentions were good with a reassuring touch on her arm and by carrying the conversation while she recovered. It had helped, and she had gradually relaxed, the conversation flowing until the unwelcome interruption.

Noah’s phone buzzed twice in quick succession.

Ryan: What???

Sorry for delay. Escaped toddler interfering with baby feeding. But I asked Claire about Grace. She doesn’t know about any boyfriend.

Ryan: Don’t worry. I didn’t give you away.

So much for research. Part of Noah wanted to cut his losses. Why hadn’t he just texted her instead of committing himself by moving into her territory?

Some guys really enjoyed the dating scene. Not him. Granted, he hadn’t really planned to enter the actual scene since his sights were set on Grace and Grace alone. But if things with Alec were as tight as they appeared . . .

Noah got up to brush his teeth. He might as well get ready for bed, though he doubted he’d be able to sleep.

Seeing her this evening had been different from before, because he was different. He hoped she could see the change. It had been hard to keep his amusement at her confusion in check as he’d talked about Matt and his mom and everything that had been going on. His openness had loosened her up in turn—until her boyfriend had claimed her.

Alec had pretended surprise when Grace had pointed Noah out, but the two men’s eyes had met briefly before Alec had snuck up to kiss her cheek. He had been posturing.

Then there was the telegraph game.

Noah hadn’t known what he was getting himself into. He’d wanted to prove he was out of his shell—to himself as much as to Grace. It would have been less complicated if it hadn’t involved physical contact.

Holding her hand had been revealing, to say the least. He’d always known there was some attraction there—on his side, obviously. On her side, maybe?

The game had unnerved him. The last time he’d touched her hand—when he’d “reintroduced” himself during their big blowup—he’d been seething. Looking back, he could remember that contact affecting him even through his anger. For a split second as he’d railed against her, he’d wanted to kiss her.

What if he had?

But no, he hadn’t been ready for any kind of relationship then.

Now? He was ready.

Sitting next to her, their eyes closed, hands clasped and resting in the air between their knees as they waited for the message to telegraph down the line through their teammates . . . the energy humming from the contact on Grace’s side had made it tough to detect anything coming from his other hand.

He didn’t know what the exact relationship status was with her and Alec. But he could have sworn that tonight, when he’d held out his hand and told her he wouldn’t bite, she’d glanced at his lips.