Page 77 of Almost Ravaged

He nods, his expression relaxing. “Okay, good. Just as long as I didn’t mess up. Do you need anything? From me? Or, I mean, I guess, in general? Something to drink? More pie?”

My chest warms as I drink him in. He gets flustered easily, I’m learning. It’s cute. And a little ironic. He’s so burly and virile, but he has a soft, shy side, too.

“We’re good,” I insist. “We need to head back to campus soon anyway. But I’ll be back next week. With the class, I mean.”

Good grief. Has his stammering rubbed off on me? I’m never this awkward.

Noah rises to his feet and runs his hand through his hair once, then again. “I’ll let you get going. Nice to meet you,” he tells my friends. “And sorry again about the Shiloh attack. She was going crazy in the house. I figured she spotted a deer or a rabbit and let her out to sate her curiosity, but then she took off like a shot.”

Cam snorts, and I shoot her a not-so-subtle glare. I don’t want Noah to feel bad about any of this.

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “Really.”

After he excuses himself, I gather my things, and as we walk to the car, I do my best to ignore my snickering friends.

They at least wait until we’re safely inside the vehicle before starting in on me.

“This place sure is special, Sawyer,” Kai teases.

I shoot them a death glare as I buckle my seat belt.

“Superspecial,” Cam chimes in. “It honestly might be the most gorgeous, tanned, muscular, hunky place I’ve seen in a long time.”

Okay, fine.

Digging into this project allows me to spend extra time with the handsome, reclusive apple orchard owner. But I left that out because it means diddly squat. It’s just a crush.

I feel something—a lot of somethings, actually—when I’m around Noah. That doesn’t mean anything. Not if I don’t know whether he’s attracted to me, too.

Plus, I won’t give Mercer ammunition. I won’t allow him to weaponize any kind of connection against me. I want to work on this project, and I refuse to jeopardize my assistantship. So I’ll keep things professional when I’m here on business.

With a huff, I put the car in reverse. The whole way back to the rink, they tease me, and by the time we cruise under the arch at the esplanade that leads to Holt University, I can’t temper the smile that takes over every time they mention Noah’s name.

Chapter twenty-eight

Sawyer

If Mercer doesn’t get here soon, my nerves are going to get the best of me.

I’m early, but I’m notthatearly, and if the steaming mug of coffee on a warmer on his desk is any indication, he’s already been in today.

At three minutes to eight, I force myself to put my pen down. The obsessive way I’ve been clicking it isn’t helping my anxiety.

I’m prepared for this meeting. In fact, I’m afraid I have too many suggestions for bolstering the attendance and sales at Evercrisp Orchard.

I fiddle with the third button on my cardigan. It’s always the outlier. Some days, I button it; others, I don’t. It depends on many factors. Like whether I’m bloated or what sort of bra and base layer I’m wearing. I leave it open more often than not to avoid creating a gaping hole if the fabric pulls too tightly.

I never struggle with the decision, yet today I’m questioning everything.

“Oh, you’re here.” Mercer breezes into the office just as the time on my phone changes from 7:58 to 7:59.

I blow out a long breath and settle back into my seat. Calm. Collected. I’ve got this. “Good morning.”

He takes his seat, then regards me for several seconds, assessing me over the top of his glasses. Then, to my surprise, the corners of his mouth pull up into the hint of a smile.

“Good morning, Ms. Davvies.”

The lack of sarcasm in his tone throws me, but I don’t let it show.