“Why?” he repeated, sounding a little surprised. “Maybe I have a weakness for feisty spitfires who love dogs.”
A large lump of regret formed in my throat. “Oh. Okay. Thank you. But that won’t be possible.” There was absolutely no way. It was such a no. A big no. The no-iest of nos. There was so much no here he would get to cruise through the no express lane.
Now he looked totally bewildered. He came over to the window to stand next to me, and my stomach fluttered at the way the moonlight lovingly bathed his profile. “Can I ask why not?”
“It’s a long and really embarrassing story, and it’s not one that I share with anyone.”
“Not even your best friend?”
“Not even her.” We stood in silence, and I felt compelled to keep explaining. “This really is a hundred percent me. There’s something about me that makes it impossible for me to date.”
I didn’t want to sound overly dramatic, because when you got down to my reason why, it felt stupid: I couldn’t kiss anyone. Whenever I tried, I had these full-on panic attacks. I was absolutely terrified by the idea of kissing, because the first time I’d ever tried it, it had gone unbelievably badly. In a truly humiliating way. No one had hurt me, but I’d so embarrassed myself that apparently I’d been unable to move past it. So relationships, and kissing, were completely off the table for me. The only way to avoid my freak-outs was to avoid being close to someone.
But right now, in this moment? Boy, did Noah Douglas make me want to say yes.
Only I couldn’t. Even thinking about why I had to say no made me feel like I was at the beginning of an attack. My heart was thrashing around, and there was that nauseous feeling at the back of my throat. I had no intention of telling him the reason why I couldn’t go out with him, but my body apparently thought I was going to and prepared to implode.
“Okay. Message received.” He turned to look at me and that intensity was there, the one that would make me run across a bed of hot coals if that was what he asked me to do. But he broke it off, walking over to the front door. He pulled it open.
“Thanks again for coming over last-minute.”
I hesitated. I was shocked to discover that I wanted to explain. But a rush of panic engulfed me and I knew there was no way.
The only thing left for me to do was to go home. I joined him at the door and said, “You’re welcome. And thank you for the ridiculous tip.”
That earned me a tiny smile.
“I’ll share your business card with my friends, if that’s okay.”
Why did I like the idea of him telling other people about me? “That would be great.”
I stepped outside, and I heard him say, “I’m glad I got to meet you, Juliet Nolan.”
The door shut and that was that.
I crossed my arms, the January air suddenly feeling extremely cold against my still-wet shirt and jeans. I hurried into the van and turned the music on loudly so that I wouldn’t think about what had just happened.
But it wasn’t enough. I thought of all the men who had asked me on a date or suggested hanging out and how every time I had said no. I hadn’t even been tempted to accept. The potential for humiliation had been too great.
This was the first time I regretted it.
And I had my regret to keep me company on the drive home, knowing my best friend would be waiting to hear every single detail.
Sure enough, she was sitting in the living room watching the second movie in the Duel of the Fae trilogy. She paused the movie when I came in and set my stuff down on the kitchen table. She announced, “It just can’t be said enough how much better the second movie is than the third movie. Like, that director understood how to make Aliana a fully rounded heroine who is allowed to want a soul mate and a family in addition to beating up most of the bad guys. She doesn’t have to be one or the other. And he also understands the female gaze when it comes to Malec. He lets us love him where the first director saw him as a two-dimensional bad guy. If you don’t want us to love the villains and root for their redemption, then why do you give them soulful eyes, muscled chests, disheveled hair, and heartbreaking backstories? I’m just not that strong.”
“You know I agree with you.” We’d had this same sort of discussion many, many times. It frustrated both of us that the trilogy had ended up as a tragedy instead of a literal fairy tale because the director and writer of the third movie had done such a poor job.
“So that long-winded explanation of mine was just a setup so that I could say . . . speaking of Noah Douglas’s soulful eyes and muscled chest, how did it go? I would very much like to have all the details, please and thank you.”
“I need to get changed.” Even though I’d had the whole ride home to sort through my feelings, my nerve endings still felt a little raw, and my stomach had that sunken feeling in it like I’d made a mistake. Much as I loved her, I worried that Shelby would make it worse.
“Are you trying to up my anticipation here? You don’t have to. I’m already dying. Spill!” she said, following me into my room as I peeled off my wet clothes, threw them into my laundry basket, and changed into my pajamas.
“There’s not really much to tell,” I said carefully. I didn’t lie to Shelby. Other than that one thing I never told anyone, she knew everything about me. “Oh! Except for Lily Ramsey was there. She let me in.”
“What?” she shrieked. “I am so torn. I both adore the idea of them having a torrid affair in real life because I loved them together in the movie and am outraged that he would be cheating on you!”
I laughed and tugged up my pajama bottoms. “They’re just friends. Their dogs like to play together, and she seems very happily married. Sorry to both burst your bubble and reassure you.”
“Come into the kitchen,” she told me. “I went out and got rocky road ice cream.”
I knew it was a bribe to ensure I’d fess up, but when chocolate was involved, I did not care. “I’m right behind you.”
“So . . . then what happened?” she asked, getting the ice cream out of the freezer. I grabbed bowls and spoons and met her at the table.
“Well, after Lily obviously became my new best friend, then I washed and brushed Magnus.”
“And . . . where was Noah while this was going on?”
“He was taking a shower.”
She grinned mischievously at me. “With you watching?”
“What?” I laughed, banning the images that conjured up out of my mind. “No! I’d prefer not to go to prison for being a Peeping Tom, thanks.”
“I kind of think it would be worth it. He’s in fantastic shape. There was this article in American Weekly that said he still works out like he did when he was in the military.”
I’d seen him up close. I could believe it. “Sounds about right.”
“He’s so massive. It’s like he’s a reverse Beauty and the Beast character.”
“What do you mean?” I asked after I’d taken a bite.
“You know how all the servants in that movie are people who were turned into objects? He’s the opposite. Like a sexy refrigerator that was turned into a person.”
That made both of us laugh.
“He’s definitely not making a servant’s salary,” I said. “He tried to tip me over four hundred dollars and I had to talk him down to forty.”