The Seat Filler - Sariah Wilson Page 0,57

social media and I’ve found it’s painful to see pictures of their happy family, so I stay away from it. But that’s not the only reason I stay away from it.”

Wow. Had I really just said that last part out loud? I hadn’t meant to. Or maybe I’d just imagined it. It was currently hard to be sure.

I was guessing it had been completely internal when he took the tumbler from my hand and put both of our glasses on the floor. “I’d offer to get you another one, but you might have to drive home later.”

Wait. Had he said “might”? Or did I imagine that, too? I was a tiny bit tipsy, and in the past I had misinterpreted things people had said when I was drunk. Like the time a woman in college said to me, “I like your shirt,” and what I’d heard was, “You should come over here and pour your beer on me and scream in my face because you think I insulted your clothing.”

So, I could have misheard him.

“Are you going to ask your parents to help you out financially?” he asked.

“Nope, it’s fine. I got a job today. I’m going to dog sit Mrs. Kravitch’s dog for the next two weeks. You and I are going to be neighbors! Do you know Gladys?”

A look of disgust curled the edges of his mouth. “I know Mrs. Kravitch. Rhymes with—”

“Hey,” I cut him off. “Be nice. I like cantankerous old ladies.” I planned on being one someday.

“She’s the lone holdout on the HOA board and is the one keeping me from getting my fence for Magnus.”

Oh. I hadn’t known that. “Maybe I can talk to her when she gets back.”

“I already tried laying on the charm. It didn’t work.” I had a hard time picturing that such a thing could be true. I mean, I was only barely resisting it, and he wasn’t even really trying with me. I tried to picture what it would be like if he focused his full-blown charm on me, and I imagined it would probably be a little like walking out onto a darkened stage and having a bright spotlight beamed right into your eyes.

Gladys was a stronger woman than I’d given her credit for.

He rested his arm across the back of the couch, and it reminded me of us being in the car together last night. But this time, instead of feeling afraid that he was going to make a move, I found it oddly appealing. And wondered what he would do if I laid my head against his forearm.

He had really nice biceps. Did he know that? He must, since he obviously worked out to have them.

“Thank you,” he said with a grin.

Oh crap, that part had definitely been out loud. It seemed that my inhibitions had been lowered without me realizing it. “You know you have good genes. I already told you that.”

“You did,” he said with a smile. “So, is your father the reason you don’t date?”

He was a little like a dog with a bone, wasn’t he? But I found myself only slightly annoyed. “No. You’re not going to give that up, are you?”

“It just doesn’t seem fair to deprive the men of this great city the opportunity to date you.” He thought he was so adorable, didn’t he?

To be fair, he was.

That feeling I had last night was back. That Noah Douglas was trustworthy. Considering all he’d told me about his life and his family, it was clear that he kept his own secrets locked up tighter than Fort Knox . . . Wouldn’t he do the same for me? And maybe if I said the words out loud, to somebody else, it wouldn’t feel like this ridiculous, terrible secret. I might find relief saying it.

I mean, it was so dumb. What I’d been carrying around was stupid. And the accompanying panic attacks were even dumber. He was going to think I was ridiculous. How could he not when I already did?

I knew it was supposed to be a bad idea to tell him, but I couldn’t think of a single reason why. He was my friend. My good friend. And very, very, very trustworthy.

“I am trustworthy,” he agreed.

Okay, I was definitely tipsy, and all the things I thought were just inside my head I was apparently saying out loud. Maybe that was a sign that I was meant to say them. Meant to tell him. My mom was a big believer in

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