The Seat Filler - Sariah Wilson Page 0,83

considered the fact that he might be a morning person, and it was kind of annoying. Good thing he was superfluously handsome.

It didn’t take me long to do everything I needed to, and now it was my turn to knock on his door. When he answered, he leaned down to kiss me hello on the cheek, and my heart sighed a little at the way it felt. He introduced me to Joe, and Sunshine’s and Magnus’s tails were both wagging as they sniffed one another. Joe promised to take good care of the dogs, and I figured if Noah trusted him, then he was probably good at what he did. I wondered how much he charged and decided I should ask him when we got back. For comparative purposes.

Deciding it would be best to get Noah out of the hills and canyons and onto a flat surface, I headed for a church I knew of nearby, figuring the parking lot would be empty. On the way he told me about how he had spent his morning talking to an army friend he liked to keep tabs on because he had been chaptered out.

“Chaptered out?” I asked.

“Basically kicked out. He tried to hurt himself.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “That’s awful!”

“He’s doing really well now. The director of my charity helped him get a great job, and he met someone recently. And I don’t know that his heart was really in what he did back then, because he tried to overdose with cough drops and vitamin supplements. I’m still not sure how he expected to nourish himself to death.”

It was very cool that his charity was able to help one of his friends. Sometimes those benefits weren’t always tangible, and I thought it was neat that Noah got to see some of the fruits of his labors. “I’m so glad he’s doing better.” I paused. “It would be inappropriate for me to laugh, right?”

“Yes, and know that I would judge you for it,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “It’s one of the reasons I have my charity. It makes me feel like I can keep serving even if I’m not still in the army.” Then he told me more stories about his friends from his company until we got to the parking lot.

For some reason, I was hearing my mom’s voice in my head, reminding me of our age difference. Which is practically nonexistent, I said back. But then I realized that it wasn’t an age gap but an experience gap, with all the things he had seen and been through. He had done so much and accomplished so many things, and I . . . was scared of kissing and had started a dog-grooming business.

Why would he want to be with someone like you? the voice whispered at me, and this time I didn’t have an answer.

I put my van in park and turned off the ignition. I got out of the car to switch places with him, and when we crossed paths in front, he stopped to give me a hug. “Just in case I get us into an accident and we don’t make it,” he teased.

“Don’t wreck my van,” I told him.

“I’ll do my best.”

We got back in and put on our seat belts. I told him to put his foot on the brake and turn the key to start the engine.

“Your check-engine light is on,” he said, pointing at the dashboard.

“I checked it. The engine is still there.”

“Funny,” he said in a tone that indicated he didn’t think it was funny at all. “It seems ominous.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m pretty sure that it’s more of an order than a suggestion. I don’t think cars give you a heads-up just in case you feel like investigating.”

“I can’t afford to take it in.” There was a silence that hung there and I could feel how much he wanted to offer to pay for it, but it was my responsibility, not his.

We were just friends.

Then I went and blew my own inner declaration by asking, “Where did you go last night?”

“I had to go have drinks with this journalist, Mike something, for an interview about my upcoming release. Have I told you about that yet? It’s about the life of Blackbeard. It was fun playing a pirate. Anyway, I ended up being a little bit late for it because of your mom’s play.”

Given Noah’s loose relationship with time, I realized that his little bit late was probably quite a bit

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