Page 59

My thoughts trail off into a haze of raw awareness as I take in the figure of the man sitting opposite me. His brown hair is swept back from his face, and beneath his dark brows the lookhe’s giving me is positively hungry. Like he wants to devour me whole.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Noah in a suit before. It suits him though. Everything suits him. I’m tracing the line of his broad shoulders in the well-fitted fabric, remembering how it feels to throw my arms around them. Then my mind catches up with my eyes and my mouth falls open. “Y-you! How did you get here?”

He laughs softly. “The same way you did I imagine. On a plane. It would have taken too long to swim and I’d already wasted too much time.”

My mouth is dry. I can’t speak. I can hardly process what’s going on here. “But you never answered my calls or texts.”

The smile falls from his face to be replaced with a rueful expression. “I know. I’m sorry. I may have destroyed my phone before I thought about what a stupid decision that was.”

I blink. “When?”

He looks down for a moment. “The night we argued.”

Then he hasn’t been ignoring me all this time.

But why hasn’t he contacted me elsewhere? It’s not as if I’m hard to find.

Noah runs a hand through his hair, disrupting the neat do and making the front part fall over his eyes until he flicks his head and tosses it back. “Listen, I came all the way here to find you because I know I’ve been a complete tool and I fucked everything up, but I couldn’t not.”

I open my mouth to reply, not knowing what to say. I don’t even know how I feel.

A stupid grin is threatening to break out over my face just from seeing him sitting here in front of me. But tears sting the back of my eyes just as forcefully and I can’t help thinking about all the times I’ve cried over him since we met.

“Noah, I—”

A waiter comes over with the glass of wine I ordered and pauses, looking between us. “Ah, you were expecting company, miss? Should I set another place?”

I stare at Noah across the table. “Please,” he mouths.

And just like that, my resolve evaporates and I find myself nodding at the waiter who hurries away to do just that.

“How did you find me?”

Noah shrugs. “I’ve been stalking all the restaurants in town that I’d eat at and which you haven’t reviewed yet, hoping.”

A little laugh of surprise bursts from me. “You what?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d talk to me if I messaged after this long. After what I did…” He trails off, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “Listen. Liv, I’m sorry. I really am. Can you forgive me?” He reaches across the table.

I look into his pleading eyes and my hands creep across the table to meet his. The sizzle of electricity as my fingertips come into contact with his almost makes me gasp out loud. There’s never been any shortage of chemistry between us. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t know how I feel. But I have to admit, it’s good to see you.”

He nods. “Yeah that’s fair. And you don’t have to answer yet, but let’s talk.”

I have to admit, I want to talk to him. At the very least I need to tell him I’m not pregnant, but like an idiot I don’t just come right out and say it.

And then the waiter brings the first dish and I forget for a long time that I need to.

TWENTY EIGHT

Olivia

Twelve delicately prepared shared plates and almost two bottles of wine later, we have neatly skirted around talking about anything real. About feelings or the faux pregnancy or the way we left things. Instead we talk about food and travel and Noah’s impressions of the US so far.

I drift from the restaurant out onto the street and hand my phone to Noah. “Film me for a moment? I just want to do an intro for my next video.”

I step back into a position in front of the restaurant. “Can you get the sign in?”

He nods. “Go ahead.”