I pulled the door open and walked in without giving him a chance to object further.After a beat, he followed, shoulders tight, like he was heading into confession.
The space was cramped, barely enough for two people.Henry sank into his chair, fumbling with his notebook, trying to act busy.His face was pale, but his ears—God, his ears—were scarlet.
I shut the door.The click echoed in the tiny room, and Henry’s head snapped up.For a heartbeat, he looked terrified, like he thought I’d locked us into something dangerous.
I crossed the narrow space and dropped into the chair beside him instead of the one opposite.Close enough that our arms touched when I set my elbow on the table.He stiffened, staring at his notebook like he could will words to appear on the page.
The tension in my chest coiled tight, heat spreading low and insistent.I’d never been this close to him before, never had the chance to breathe him in, and now it was overwhelming: soap and paper and something subtle and clean, like linen warmed by the sun.I wanted to bury my face in his neck just to see if it smelled the same there.
My attraction to him was no longer some abstract thought—it was fire, roaring to life in my veins.He was beautiful in his restraint, in the way his hands trembled slightly as he opened his notebook, in the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting for composure.
I reached out before I could stop myself.My hand landed on his, stilling his pen.His skin was hot under mine.
Henry froze.
“You saw me at the club last night,” I said softly, my voice low enough to make him lift his eyes, just barely.“Are you going to pretend you didn’t?”
ChapterSeven
Henry
Song of Songs 4:11 — Your lips distill nectar, my bride; honey and milk are under your tongue.
* * *
I was a wreck.
Sitting in that cramped study room, Noah’s hand covering mine, I felt like every nerve in my body had been lit on fire.My heart thudded against my ribs so hard I was sure he could hear it.He was too close, too beautiful, too much.
Noah was everything I wasn’t.Confident.Magnetic.His body moved with an ease that made me feel like I’d spent my entire life stumbling.Even now, sitting beside me in a plain chair, he radiated heat and charisma as if he belonged to some higher order of being.He was the embodiment of every single thing I had ever secretly, shamefully admired in a man.And it terrified me.
I swallowed, my throat dry as paper.His hand was still on mine, and the weight of it made my thoughts scatter.
“I’m not denying I saw you at Babylon,” I managed, though my voice cracked.I stared at the notebook on the table because I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes just yet.“It’s just… I thought you were a bartender.Not a—” My face burned hot.I couldn’t say the word.My mouth went dry around it.“—not a dancer.It took me by surprise, that’s all.”
He hummed, a low, dangerous sound that made my stomach knot.“Why’d you come to Babylon, Henry?”
The truth tumbled out before I could stop it.“Yesterday we were having such a wonderful conversation here in the library, and when you were called away… I thought… maybe if I went to the bar where you worked, we could continue.”I winced at my own honesty.“When I saw you wearing… well, very little clothing—” My ears burned so hot I thought they might catch fire.“—it took me by surprise.”
Finally, I forced myself to look at him.
Noah was smiling, slow and wicked.His eyes, dark and gleaming, pinned me in place.He squeezed my hand gently, the warmth of it seeping into my skin until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“I’d love to keep talking to you,” he murmured, voice low and intimate, “and so much more.”
The words slid into me like a spark, catching dry tinder.My chest tightened, heat blooming low in my stomach, spreading thick and heavy.I gulped, struggling to hold myself together, but it was useless.I was coming apart under the sheer force of him.
God, he was gorgeous.His skin glowed golden under the fluorescent light, his jaw sharp, his lips soft and full and entirely too close to mine.I noticed the little curve at the corner of his mouth, the way his lashes curled against his cheekbones, the way his shoulders strained the fabric of his shirt.
My pulse roared in my ears.I was so turned on it was painful.
His thumb brushed my knuckles, slow, deliberate.His gaze dipped to my mouth, and I forgot how to breathe.
“You saw me almost naked,” he whispered, and the devilish grin returned.“And you liked it.Didn’t you?”
“No,” I said, far too quickly, my voice breaking.
But my body betrayed me.I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t stop my thighs from tensing, couldn’t hide the hard truth straining beneath the table.Heat flooded my face, and I knew he could see it all over me.
