He glanced back and forth between me and the door. “Do you need me to get Sinan?”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I snapped, “I just need a minute to myself. Can you give me a minute?”
His hand dropped from the light switch. Instead of leaving, however, he sighed and took a seat at the vanity next to mine, usually occupied by Heather. The chair settings didn’t fit him, but he didn’t mess with them, just awkwardly folded his long legs under the table as he pulled his phone out.
“What are you doing?” I asked, wondering if he’d come up with some insane reason why I wasn’t to be trusted alone in the dressing room.
“Checking my messages.” Noah shrugged.
Fine. I’d be game for any kind of distraction, and I didn’t want to check my own socials, so I swiveled my chair around to face him. “How many fan videos did you get tagged in today?”
He cocked his chin and narrowed his eyes at me. “I thought you needed a minute to yourself.”
“Humor me.”
“Only one today.”
“I expected more from the Ace Ryder fans,” I mused.
“They’re more active in the evening.”
“Can I see?”
Noah opened his profile to the posts he was tagged in and handed the phone over. The video was a fun little outfit transition from a girl wearing athleisure in her modern bedroom to wearing a full Wild West outlaw costume on Bravetown’s Main Street. I scrolled to the next one, which was a video of a young woman going to the character meetand greet and pretending to interview the infamous Ace Ryder for a newspaper. I had to give Noah credit for staying in character through some of her ridiculous questions.
I kept scrolling, finding fan edits, park trip vlogs, clips of the stunt show, merch hauls. All from the last few days. Who knew theme parks were such a hot topic online?
“Okay, we need to talk about the changes they made in Bravetown this summer, because this– is– not–it,” a young woman yelled at the phone camera on the next video I opened, clapping between the last few words to emphasize them. When she said “this”, a grainy picture of Noah lifting me on to the horse popped up.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize…” Noah grabbed the phone and locked the screen before the video could go on.
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” So much forignorance is bliss. I’d have to down a couple of tequila shots later to get back to bliss.
“Let’s go. It’s been more than a minute.” Noah unfolded himself from the chair with surprising grace.
“I’m going to make some ungodly ambiguous sounds when I get up, and it’s just because every single one of my muscles is sore from sitting on that horse. So don’t get turned on. That’s not happening.” I grinned and wiggled my brows. The painkillers had kicked in, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Do you talk to everyone like this?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“No,” I laughed. He was so easy. “But I think if I try hard enough, I might make that vein on your forehead pop someday.”
Noah sighed and turned away.
My muscles had stiffened with that deep-rooted ache that even Advil couldn’t touch, and while my joints were pain-free, they resisted enough to make me groan as I rose to my feet. “Ugh.” I bent and patted my knees through my skirts just to make sure they were stable enough to carry me.
“You sound like an eighty-year-old.”
I glanced up to find Noah raising his brows at me.
“Oh, you’re one ofthoseguys.” I scrunched up my nose. “Grandma porn? Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”
“Jesus, that’s not what I—”
He shut up when I started laughing. So. Easy.
“Are you coming to the party tonight? We can get you drunk. Maybe that’ll help you loosen up a little.”
Chapter Thirteen
