A Shot at Love

More Than Just a Boss

"You know," Noah says, his voice deep and undeniably sexy, as he takes a glass of iced water from a passing server's tray, "I only shook Justin's hand because his biggest mistake led to the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He pauses, his gaze locking onto mine.

I feel a flush rise to my cheeks and notice the music starting to fade as we move farther from the party. "Noah..." I begin, but before I can say anything else, he leans down and kisses me—no words needed.

His lips are warm and a little urgent, pulling me in like he's trying to show me everything he's feeling without saying anything at all. The kiss is deep, slow, and intoxicating, sending a rush of heat through me as his hand desperately explores my body.

Physical touch is certainly Noah's love language, and I love it when he's craving mine.

Noah pulls back, gently cupping my face in his hands. "You better show me your room because I don't trust myself out here with you." He removes his mask, and I follow his lead. It should be illegal to hide that gorgeous face of his.

A giggle slips from my lips. "Right this way, Mr. Westbrook." I grab his mask and toss it—along with mine—onto the table by the entry to my room.

My hand glides across the smooth surface of the oak door, pushing it open to reveal my old bedroom. My heart flutters as I take in the familiar sight—the sky-painted ceilings, the soft glow of twinkle lights casting a warm, dreamy light over the buttery beige walls.

"So, this is my girl's bedroom," Noah says, his eyes sparkling as he steps inside, taking in the room with a slow, appreciative scan. "I've never been invited to your place in Los Angeles, so this is a treat for me."

I blink at him, never imagining he'd be interested in seeing my little loft compared to his stunning compound. The thought is hugely appealing— having him in my bed, in my space.

Just picturing my sheets smelling like Noah sends an electric jolt through me.

"Well, nothing was ever specified in the contract, so how was a girl supposed to know?" I close the bedroom door with a soft click, locking it behind me before setting my purse down on the dresser.

Noah's eyes darken with desire, a subtle crease forming between his brows. "You're supposed to read my mind," he says, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Our first fight."

"Look at us, already brushing past our differences," I banter, my arms snaking around his neck to pull him closer. "By the way, speaking of the contract—I'm having my close girlfriends sign the NDAs tomorrow."

Noah's expression shifts, his eyes intensifying as his warm hand slips around my waist. "Hopefully, we won't have to play by these rules much longer," his voice drops. "I'm doing everything on my end to expedite this, please know that."

I smile up at Noah, my fingers tracing the contour of his perfect jawline. "I know," I whisper, my thoughts racing as the impulsive question slips out before I can stop it. "How much did you donate to the charity tonight?"

His lips hint at a smile, "$250."

My mouth pops open. "Thousand? $250,000? Noah!"

"What?" he quirks an eyebrow at me. "It's a write-off."

Noah's cool gaze drifts to the framed photos on my wall—snapshots from high school and college. His eyes linger on one in particular: a team photo from the state championship basketball game during my senior year. "I didn't know you played ball."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I tease, threading my fingers through his.

"The more I get to know you, the more I want to learn. I can't wait to discover every part of you." He grins, lifting my hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckle. "I have a half-court at my place. How about a one-on-one?"