Page 26 of Two Weeks to Fall in Love

Two Weeks to Survive the Dinner

Noah Archer had almost kissed me . There was no way I was misreading that situation.

And I was internally freaking out. Every time I looked at him, my eyes somehow drifted to his lips, making the temperature in my body rapidly increase.

It was even worse when he caught me looking and for a few seconds a smirk pulled up his lips before they returned to the pleasantly charming smile he seemed to reserve exclusively for parents.

“Is everything okay with you, Sky?” Mom asked suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Yup, no, yeah, totally fine, just busy eating, mmmm , yum,” I said, and stuffed some more chicken casserole into my mouth for emphasis.

Mom’s eyebrows rose, but she shook her head, clearly not wanting to get into anything in front of our guest.

And while she didn’t know why I was acting weird, Noah certainly did. His eyes were on me, and his head was tilted slightly to the side. I stared at him, narrowing my eyes, and refused to look away.

I instantly regretted it. It felt like the next bite he took was unnecessarily sensual, and it didn’t help that he was maintaining eye contact with me.

Oh sweet baby pandas, why was it so damn hot in this room?

Swallowing hard, I grabbed my glass of water and downed it in one gulp.

Before he had even swallowed the last piece of food, my mom jumped in with her usual, “Would you like some more, Noah?”

He just smiled and nodded—not that he had any other choice considering my mom was already grabbing his plate. “Thank you so much, Serena. I can’t remember the last time I ate such delicious homemade food,” Noah said as my mom piled food onto his plate.

Kiss-ass . I shoveled another forkful into my mouth to keep myself from grumbling in protest.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to say. I’m sure your mom is an excellent cook as well.” Mom beamed at him, innocence in every gesture, but I knew the truth: that Noah was being interrogated without a single question being asked. She’d be able to glean so much about his home life from his answer.

When I was younger I used to think my mom was a spy because she always seemed to know everything. It took me a while to realize that most times I ended up giving her information without even realizing it.

I grinned, chewing on a piece of salad as I carefully looked from one to the other. If I knew Noah, he was going to give a polite remark that satisfied my mom and move on to the next topic.

“She used to be an amazing cook—the best really—there’s nothing quite like your mom’s cooking to fix a bad day,” Noah said.

I gaped at him. Mom nodded encouragingly.

“But as much as she loves to cook, she hasn’t had time for it lately, so the task usually falls on our live-in housekeeper.

She’s a lovely lady but, well, let’s say she wasn’t hired for her cooking skills. ”

My eyes narrowed. This was more information about his family than I’d managed to get during the last several days of dating him. Even though he’d forced us to spend basically every moment together.

“Oh, I see!” Mom said, chuckling. “Well, I’m sure your mom will be cooking up a storm soon enough. And until then you’re more than welcome to join us for dinner whenever you want.” She prattled on about her cooking, clearly smitten by him and his answer.

As pleasant as his expression might have looked to someone from the outside looking in, I could see that it was fake. His thoughts weren’t in the conversation anymore. He looked far away. Hollow.

For some reason, a deep sadness overcame me as I looked at him. I held my breath, the fork hanging limply from my hand.

As if he sensed me staring, he turned to me. Even though no words were exchanged, even though it was barely a second or two, I felt like he knew that I saw him. Probably for the first time ever, I really saw him.

That he wasn’t just smirks, and smiles, and impulsive dates, and magic. That there was darkness there. And sorrow. And what felt like a lifetime of pain. In that one moment, suspended in time, I felt like I knew nothing about him and yet understood everything.

His eyes filled with confusion, surprise, and something else entirely.

And while I didn’t know what any of that meant, a part of me relaxed, just because his eyes no longer looked so painfully empty.

Then, slowly, the corners of his lips lifted just slightly.

Like a silent Thank you for the wordless support I had given him.

The whole exchange couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, because once my mom stopped speaking, he turned to her with his charming smile back on display.

I tried to participate in the conversation for the rest of dinner, but even though I was no longer distracted by his lips, something else plagued my mind. Echoed in my heart.

I didn’t know Noah Archer, but until now, I hadn’t realized how desperately I wanted to know him.

*

“So, we have two more hours, huh?” Noah said once we were back in my room.

Closing the door behind us, I chewed on my lip. He stretched, his back turned to me, and I took the chance to mull over how I was going to ask him what I wanted to ask him.

I wanted to know more of his story. Needed to know more.

“Noah,” I said, and he turned to face me.

Recognition instantly flashed through his eyes and he pressed his lips together. He didn’t say anything but I could see in how stiff his body had gotten and the despair in his eyes that he was dreading my questions.

And so I pivoted, and asked instead, “Want to do some more of the questions? I feel like we still have a lot left.”

When I saw the relief in his eyes and the warmth that spread across his face, I knew I’d made the right choice, instead of the selfish one.

“You’re right, we should probably catch up.” He chuckled.

I sat down on the bed and leaned my back against the wall. Noah just looked at me, so I tapped the bed next to me.

He squinted playfully.

“Hey, now, don’t get any funny ideas. I’m just telling you to sit down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Foxy.”

I rolled my eyes at that infernal nickname. Noah sat on the bed and leaned on the wall right next to me, so close that our shoulders were touching.

A shiver passed through me, along with an intense need to scoot farther away from him. It was obvious from the grin on his face and the way he was staring at me that that was exactly what he expected me to do. So that was exactly why I didn’t do it.

Seemingly surprised, he raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips before relaxing and leaning his head against the wall.

“Let’s see . . . oh, I know, okay. Tell me three things you like about me.”

I frowned. “That can not be an actual question from the journal. You’re just fishing for compliments.”

“It’s a real question, I swear!” He raised his arms in the air as if pleading not guilty.

Of course it was a real question. What was up with whoever wrote that journal?

I was thinking about my answer when he nudged me gently with his shoulder. My eyes darted to him and a crack formed on the wall around my heart. He looked so earnestly excited, his eyes warm and inviting.

“It’s your turn first, you know,” he mumbled, and cleared his throat.

“I know, just give me a second.” I sighed and twirled a strand of my hair around a finger.

Three things. Surely there were three things I liked about him.

Normally, I would have just made a huge joke and skipped this question.

Now, having seen him looking forward to my answer, I wanted to give him one. A real one.

As I looked around the room, my eyes fell on the headphones and an actual honest answer came to me. “I really like your music taste.”

“Oh yeah? That’ll make choosing a wedding band easy,” he said, and winked playfully.

I did not laugh, but my lips threatened to betray me, the corners lifting slightly for a second. “Your humor is so dry even my cactus is begging for water,” I said, and nodded at the little golden barrel plant on my windowsill.

“Who said I was joking?” He grinned.

I just stared at him, giving him a slow, questioning look. Noah chuckled and nodded in defeat. “Fine, no more dating jokes.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that,” I muttered.

Noah just smiled. Enigmatically. Infuriatingly. Then he made a little gesture with his hand that was meant to say Do continue . I rolled my eyes. And then a spark of excitement lit up my face as another idea hit me.

“I like that you like music.”

“Hey, hey, that’s basically the same thing,” Noah teased, and I just shrugged.

“So? Didn’t say it had to be completely different things.”

A corner of his lips pulled up and he shook his head. “You really are a cunning fox. Go on, then.”

Ignoring the little insult— or was it a compliment? —I thought of what I could say next.

A pang of guilt flashed through me. I’d started to answer this seriously, but as usual, he’d managed to tilt me off-kilter with his comments.

“I like the way you see the world,” I said and he looked up at me in surprise.

“What?” He cocked his head.

“It’s like you notice things that others don’t. Like there’s this filter most people see the world through, but you don’t. You see beyond the filter. It makes me question everything. And it infuriates me. But I kinda like it,” I said, then exhaled after the truth bomb I’d just dropped.

Noah was quiet, his eyes on the floor, and then he murmured to himself, “I never noticed . . . Were things really that different before I found out . . . No one said anything—”

He was getting absorbed in whatever thoughts ravaged his mind. I tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on top of his. Noah looked up at me, almost startled, and then he smiled.

“Sorry, no one’s really said that before, it surprised me. I didn’t think things, uh, had changed that much, but I guess they did.”

“Sometimes change is good,” I said quietly, and offered a small smile, not exactly sure what he was talking about. He gave me a beaming one in return.