The Seat Filler - Sariah Wilson Page 0,64

made him desperately more attractive. “You may not know this about me, but I’m very strong and can handle it. I have to special order supersize weights just so they’ll be enough of a challenge.”

Him teasing me made me feel better, made the pressure subside just a little bit. “That’s good, because I’m pretty sure my baggage is over the weight limit.”

He smiled, and I felt that moment of connection again, even though we were standing six feet apart.

Then he cleared his throat and said, “I should be home at about eight o’clock tomorrow night, if you want to come by.”

That made my heart squeeze painfully. The idea that we were making plans to meet up and kiss. “I can do that. And by eight o’clock do you mean eight o’clock, or do you mean, like, two in the morning?”

“Ha-ha. If something comes up, I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” At that point I should have said goodbye and walked away and hidden from him in my van. But I just stood there, like I wanted something else to happen.

Like there was something I still wanted to tell him. “I hope you know . . . what I told you? I’ve never told anyone else, ever.”

“I know. And it’s not an honor I take lightly.”

That connection returned, only this time it was urging me to walk back over to him, tell him I’d changed my mind and that we should immediately go inside and start practicing kissing right now.

“So . . . ,” he said, and I realized that I’d been standing there for an uncomfortable amount of time wrestling with myself. “Good luck with the new job tomorrow. I can’t imagine any job working for Mrs. Kravitch is going to be a fun one.”

“It won’t be the worst one I’ve had. I’ve done some truly terrible things for money.”

“Like?”

“Like get up at seven in the morning,” I said. He broke into his infectious laughter and, figuring I couldn’t ask for a better exit than that, I headed off toward my van. To distract myself, I ran through a mental list of what I still needed to do.

When I got home I had to pack a bag, avoid Shelby for the rest of the evening—because if she pushed me at all about what had happened tonight, I feared I might break and tell her everything—make arrangements to get a ride back up here tomorrow, where I would take care of Sunshine and two of my other clients, and then . . .

Then I was going to come over to Noah Douglas’s house and I was going to kiss him. A shudder of dread and excitement passed through me.

Everything would be just fine. Probably.

When I got home, it all proceeded according to plan. Shelby was out with Allan, so I was able to pack up in peace. By the time I got up the next morning, she was already gone for the day, so I left her a note reminding her about my new gig and to call me if she needed anything. This also allowed me far too much time to think about what was going to happen with Noah later.

I took an Uber up to Gladys’s house, and as Noah had predicted, it was ridiculously expensive. I was glad I had some extra money to help cover the expense.

Sunshine was excited to see me, and I wondered for a minute if Noah was up at his house or if he’d already left for the day. I got Sunshine fed and watered and took him out for a walk to retrieve my van. I decided to take him with me for the two grooming appointments I had scheduled for the day. I texted Gladys to ask if she was okay with me bringing him along, and she texted back a single word.

And that was it. So I was taking it as a yes.

After my first session, I stopped to grab something to eat and ended up sharing half of my hamburger with a very sad-eyed and beggy Sunshine. While I was considering running back inside to order a second one, my phone buzzed.

If it was Gladys telling me she’d meant, “Fine, keep my dog at home, I don’t want him driving around with you,” she was out of luck. And I was going to have to lie.

But it was a text from Noah. From his actual phone number and not a restricted one.

I smiled.

Why did that make my heart flutter?

I sent him a

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