“But it’s my mess. I don’t?—”
She levels me with a singular raised eyebrow that stops the protest on my tongue.
I wipe the curd from the island while she mops it off the floor. It doesn’t take long, and she seems comfortable working in silence. Meanwhile, my head is screaming.
When she finally looks up, she narrows her eyes. “What’s going on with you? Are you upset about… Do you regret last night?”
What I should do, to wipe the crestfallen expression off her face, is assure her that no, I don’t regret last night. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the best sex I’ve ever had, and I’m more confused than ever because I want to do it again. I don’t know what that means for me, for us.
Instead, I blurt out, “I named the cat. And I made him a vet appointment. You’re right—he’s mine, or I’m his, or however it works.”
Noelle blinks in surprise, her eyes softening. “Good. What did you name him?”
“Croissant.”
“Excellent choice.” She leans on the island, her face a mere two feet from mine. “Excellent pronunciation. Do you speak French?”
“Yeah. Not perfectly, but well enough. Do you?”
She shakes her head. “Always wanted to, but I’ve never had the patience for languages. French is so fucking hot, though. Tell me something sexy.” Her eyes twinkle, and it calms me.Shecalms me.
I think for a moment before settling on,“J’ai passée une incroyable soirée. Tu es toujours magnifique, mais espécialement quand tu t’effondres pour moi.”
Noelle’s lips part. Her pupils dilate, and her cheeks burn maroon. Interesting.
“I have no idea what you just said, but don’t tell me. It sounded hot.Yousound hot.”
She leans in closer and kisses me, breathing me in with a happy-sounding sigh. When she pulls back, she licks her lips, and I have to look away.
“Noelle.”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think I can do this.” I sound as panicked as I feel, and a lot less cool than I’d like to.
“Oh. Okay…”
Shit. She sounds hurt.
“I just feel really old right now,” I admit, still refusing to look at her.
Which she clearly notices, because she rounds the island until she’s standing in front of me.
“Talk to me. Old how?”
“Old like… Shit, I don’t know. I haven’t done casual sex in a long time. I don’t know if last night was a one-time thing, or if you want to do it again, or… Hell, whatever this is, I’m flying pretty blind right now, and I feel like I’m going to fall flat on my face, because I don’t know what’s going on. And I know it’s probably uncool of me to be acting like this literally one day after we slept together, but I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I?—”
She cuts me off with another kiss. It’s soft, until it’s not, and I’m not sure which of us takes it up a notch. But I sure as hell don’t mind it when she backs me against the kitchen counter and bites down on my lip. She kisses her way across my jaw and down my throat, before pressing her forehead against mine.
For a moment, we both just breathe each other in.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ve been thinking about you all day, too. And I don’t care if you’re not cool—I’m not either,” she adds with a soft chuckle, but it sounds almost strained. I can’t figure out her expression, a little forced—almost too level.
She steps back enough that she can look at me, but keeps her arms locked on either side of me. When Philippe used to cage me like this, I felt claustrophobic, but Noelle feels like fresh air.
“You’re not old, sweetheart. Certainly not because you don’t know what you’re doing here. I don’t either.” Noelle toys with her lip, and I wish I were instead. “I would like to do it again. A lot, actually. We can just go with the flow and figure out what casual sex looks like for us.”
“Go with the flow…” I repeat slowly. “Yeah, totally, I can go with the flow. Will you like, tell me if I’m doing it wrong? Or anything wrong. Actually, ignore me. I sound needy.”
