his eyes. One grin from Noah and I seem to feel so much better about myself. No last-minute doubts about having my hair restyled and lifted from the boring but safe sameness I’ve seen every time I look in the mirror since I was at school. His chuckle warms me up inside and the way he looks at me makes me feel I can do (almost) anything. Even find a date.
Or it could be the fact that I’ve been told the window display at the shop needs doing and I’ve finally been trusted to do it again, so I’d be pleased for any excuse to get out of here for a bit.
The boss has insisted on Bea doing the window since my near disastrous Valentine’s Day love-you-to-death style showcase. Did I not mention it? Robbie did his runner two weeks before the big day.
Well, anyway, I wasn’t in the mood for hearts and flowers exactly, and I bet there are a lot of other people who aren’t. So, I went for an alternative approach. You have no idea how many books are about crimes of passion, vampire kisses, and love lost.
‘Fucking hell, Rosie, are you off your head?’ Was Bea’s reaction. ‘This says love me to death. Nobody wants to be given their lover’s heart literally!’ she yelled, holding up a book with a particularly gruesome cover.
‘Well that’s how I feel! And I think you’ll find that is somebody’s liver not heart.’
‘Eurgh.’ She dropped the book. ‘I am off to find something pink!’
So anyway, my first attempt has to make up for the last one. I must not fail, which is a bit daunting. Coffee with Noah will be much less of a challenge.
Wow, who thought I’d ever say that?
‘An hour, I’ve got some spines to dust. R x’
‘Sounds sexy, want to try it out on me? N x’
‘You’re chuckling! Must be the sex god on the phone!’
‘Don’t call him that!’ I shake my head at Bea. ‘Haven’t you got some books to tidy or something?’
‘It is him, isn’t it? You go all girly when he texts you.’
‘No, I don’t!’ I don’t, honestly. ‘He’s just funny.’ He makes me smile; he makes me feel all warm and happy.
‘Yeah, and then some. You know what they say about a man who can make you laugh! You keep that chastity belt on your knickers locked, girl!’
‘Shush!’ I wave her away, but a little niggle of unease teases at my heart. I fear my chastity belt is not as firmly attached as it should be. It is in danger of slippage.
How can I miss somebody so much? I need to find a real boyfriend quickly, one that is steady and reliable. One who I can work with and live with, and love in the way I loved Robbie.
Without the irrational head-over-heels hormonal side.
That’s a slightly depressing thought actually: losing Noah’s corny jokes and naughty sense of humour. And dirty grin. And the way my heart kind of flips when I realise he’s on the phone. And the way he can bring goose bumps out on my arms just by staring steadily at me in that ‘I can see everything in your head’ kind of way.
It’s a bloody good job he is still dating the Sadies of this world. Women who are happy (well maybe not happy, but happy to go along with) that he will never commit. He will never fall in love. Because he doesn’t want to.
I admit he’s not just like my dad, he has lots more positive points, and he does care. But that makes him more likeable, more dangerous – because he still is like him in some ways. I’m not daft, I know you can’t change a person.
We are too dissimilar; we want totally different things in life and all his flirting is just that. Flirting. He can’t help himself. I can’t let him get under my skin and into my heart – and I’m really worried that he’s starting to.
***
I needn’t have worried about any possibility of my relationship with Noah taking a wrong turn, because the first thing he says when I sit down in the café is: ‘I’ve got the number of a brilliant nail salon if you’re interested! You said you were thinking of getting them done?’
‘How do you know it’s brilliant?’ I say suspiciously. ‘You don’t get yours done, do you?’
‘No.’ He grins. I imagine if he did decide to get a manicure, he’d get away with it.
‘Don’t tell me.’ I hold up