that I wanted to say yes. And that scared me more than anything else.
I didn’t want to date anyone, and for reasons I couldn’t say, Noah Douglas was the absolute last man on earth that I could ever date.
I turned to look at him. “Why?” I asked, having to know at least that. Why me? When he could, quite literally, have anyone? The most beautiful and talented women in the world probably routinely threw themselves at him. There was nothing special or important about me. I was just a regular person living a regular life.
“Why?” he repeated, sounding a little surprised. “Maybe I have a weakness for feisty spitfires who love dogs.”
A large lump of regret formed in my throat. “Oh. Okay. Thank you. But that won’t be possible.” There was absolutely no way. It was such a no. A big no. The no-iest of nos. There was so much no here he would get to cruise through the no express lane.
Now he looked totally bewildered. He came over to the window to stand next to me, and my stomach fluttered at the way the moonlight lovingly bathed his profile. “Can I ask why not?”
“It’s a long and really embarrassing story, and it’s not one that I share with anyone.”
“Not even your best friend?”
“Not even her.” We stood in silence, and I felt compelled to keep explaining. “This really is a hundred percent me. There’s something about me that makes it impossible for me to date.”
I didn’t want to sound overly dramatic, because when you got down to my reason why, it felt stupid: I couldn’t kiss anyone. Whenever I tried, I had these full-on panic attacks. I was absolutely terrified by the idea of kissing, because the first time I’d ever tried it, it had gone unbelievably badly. In a truly humiliating way. No one had hurt me, but I’d so embarrassed myself that apparently I’d been unable to move past it. So relationships, and kissing, were completely off the table for me. The only way to avoid my freak-outs was to avoid being close to someone.
But right now, in this moment? Boy, did Noah Douglas make me want to say yes.
Only I couldn’t. Even thinking about why I had to say no made me feel like I was at the beginning of an attack. My heart was thrashing around, and there was that nauseous feeling at the back of my throat. I had no intention of telling him the reason why I couldn’t go out with him, but my body apparently thought I was going to and prepared to implode.
“Okay. Message received.” He turned to look at me and that intensity was there, the one that would make me run across a bed of hot coals if that was what he asked me to do. But he broke it off, walking over to the front door. He pulled it open.
“Thanks again for coming over last-minute.”
I hesitated. I was shocked to discover that I wanted to explain. But a rush of panic engulfed me and I knew there was no way.
The only thing left for me to do was to go home. I joined him at the door and said, “You’re welcome. And thank you for the ridiculous tip.”
That earned me a tiny smile.
“I’ll share your business card with my friends, if that’s okay.”
Why did I like the idea of him telling other people about me? “That would be great.”
I stepped outside, and I heard him say, “I’m glad I got to meet you, Juliet Nolan.”
The door shut and that was that.
I crossed my arms, the January air suddenly feeling extremely cold against my still-wet shirt and jeans. I hurried into the van and turned the music on loudly so that I wouldn’t think about what had just happened.
But it wasn’t enough. I thought of all the men who had asked me on a date or suggested hanging out and how every time I had said no. I hadn’t even been tempted to accept. The potential for humiliation had been too great.
This was the first time I regretted it.
And I had my regret to keep me company on the drive home, knowing my best friend would be waiting to hear every single detail.
Sure enough, she was sitting in the living room watching the second movie in the Duel of the Fae trilogy. She paused the movie when I came in and set my stuff down on the kitchen table. She announced, “It just can’t be said enough how much