Pounds to really make it work.”
“Oh hush, you’re thin as a rail,” says Finn as he slides into his chair, and I feel this interest in how quickly he and Noah have become friends.
You know that’s trouble, right? You know he can’t be part of this world. People will talk.
Just for a minute, though, I don’t care. Let the world say whatever it will, as long as I can look at him.
19
Finn
I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved for a meal to end.
Not that I didn’t enjoy it immensely, from the summer salad with all the citrus, to the dessert at the end, a tiny cheesecake with a dark chocolate and graham crust, topped with fresh whipped cream. It was delicious and I could’ve sat there all night eating…
Except I was so scared of getting something on Noah’s suit.
Noah had whisked me up to his room, stood me in front of the mirror, and brought outfit after outfit to me, hanging them in front of me, tsk-ing and humming, asking me what I thought.
Why are you doing this? I asked him at one point, when we were considering an ecru sweater with leather elbow patches, with matching leather pants. You don’t even know me.
He laughed at that. Do I have to know you, to like you? Look, anyone who can put up with Colby Raines is a saint in my book. Although… Can I ask you something?
I’d frozen.
There were so many questions I simply couldn’t answer. Not for a stranger, even a friendly, happy stranger like Noah.
I couldn’t say anything about my scar.
I couldn’t say anything about my past.
Or…my present, considering what had just happened in the spring-house.
An event so momentous I couldn’t even wrap my head around it.
Noah sensed my discomfort and laughed. God, what kind of questions do people usually ask you, to make you tense up like that?
I don’t know how he did it, but I was instantly at my ease again.
All I was going to ask is, how does Colby seem to you?
I shook my head. He seems…well, I haven’t known him very long—
An understanding nod. I don’t think he’s doing okay. Ever since their dad died… I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dalton took it really hard. Super-hard. But Colby… He functions on a whole other level. Some people compartmentalize their feelings. Colby buries his in a hermetically-sealed bunker fifty feet underground. Just keep an eye on him, okay? Make sure he takes care of himself. I’m worried about him.
Something touched me in the tenderness in his voice. Colby didn’t strike me as the kind of man who made friends, certainly not deep friends that cared about his feelings, yet here Noah was, concern in his eyes.
I will, I said, and then there was a flurry of decisions and getting dressed, and all the worry took a backseat to me being presented downstairs.
Now, with the last few crumbs of dessert dotting our plates, and a creamily delicious cappuccino having been finished, Colby looks at me over the table. “Everything good?”
“God yes,” I say, smiling with gratitude at Dalton and Noah. “This has been fantastic.”
“I’ll tell Chef Xander his meal was a success,” says Noah.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Colby begins to say.
“What, are you rushing upstairs to get more work done?” scoffed Dalton.
“Actually,” Colby says with a note of ice in his voice, “I was thinking of taking a walk through the gardens. Didn’t you tell me to relax, brother dear? Finn, do you want to come?”
All over your face, yes.
“Sure,” I say, “as long as it’s okay with Noah that I wear this suit outside?”
Noah laughs. “It’s fine, you won’t ruin it. And even if you did, I’d just get Dalton to buy me a new one. It’s the one good thing about having a rich boyfriend.”
“The one good thing?” says Dalton, looking aghast, and we leave them to their laughter and their love.
The night is warm, yet there’s a hint of cooler temperatures to come.
“The one thing I miss about where I grew up, is the fall,” I tell Colby. “You’d get a real chill, and the leaves turn so pretty.”
He murmurs something noncommittal, as though not really listening.
“Everything all right?” I ask him.
A shy smile plays over his face. “Just thinking about earlier.”
Some part of me knows we shouldn’t talk about this.
I can’t really get involved with Colby. I realize that. There’s no future in it. Fucking your assistant is the biggest cliche in history, and it’s not just a cliche,