Un-Valentine's Day

Scene 8: Crash and Burn

Before Cassie knew what was happening, Noah’s fingers cupped her nape and he drew her to him. His lips feathered against hers, teasing her with their softness. Her hand closed on his arm to push him away. But his bicep bulged in her palm and... Oh wow. A tingle shot through her, something she hadn’t felt in over a year.

Noah tightened his grip in her hair and changed the angle of the kiss. His tongue stroked the seam of her lips until she moaned and opened up for him. Sliding in, his tongue danced around hers, stimulating, titillating. Arousing.

What were they doing? Noah was a friend. One she planned on keeping.

She brought her hands to his chest and shoved. Noah groaned and released her, rolling onto his back. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Then why did you?” Despite her earlier guilt over shooting him, anger peppered her voice. She sat up and peered down at him. “Did you fake a charlie horse in the hopes that after getting your thigh massaged, you’d get a happy ending to go along with it?”

“Cassie.”

“No. Seriously, was this whole day just a ruse to get me in your bed?”

He pulled himself up and reached out to take her arm, but dropped his hand before touching her. “You’ve got to believe me, getting you in bed has never been the point. I care about you, you know that. I wanted to make this day good for you, so you’d forget about any bad things that happened before. At least for a while.”

“That’s bullshit. If you wanted me to forget, you’d have stuck to our bargain. No romance.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t answer my question, if it wasn’t to get me in bed, why did you kiss me?”

“Well…." He trailed off, clambering to his feet.

“Well what?”

“Ah, hell.” Clearly flustered by her question, he raked his hands through his paint-drenched hair and blew out a breath. “You looked all cute and worried. It was just one of those things, you know? Forget about it.”

She shook her head. “There’s another reason. Something else you’re not telling me.”

The tips of his ears turned red again and he looked away.

“Come on, Noah. Tell me.” This would fester and ruin their friendship if they didn’t get it out in the open.

“You think I’m gay. And I’m not.”

Laughter bubbled up in her chest like air in a can of pop and burst out of her mouth when she opened it. His head whipped back and he stared at her, teeth clamped, clearly not appreciating the humor in the situation. Had he been in her head when she’d spotted him in the parking lot, he’d know exactly how she saw him. Her laughter died. Crap. Noah was a friend, not a potential sex partner.

She touched his arm, lightly, despite the urge to run her fingers along his granite muscles. “I don’t think you’re gay, and neither does anyone else at work.” In fact, all her friends thought Noah was a hottie and couldn’t understand why she’d never made a move on him. “But we’re friends, and I want to keep it that way.”

His shoulders relaxed as he expelled air from his chest. After a moment, he nodded. “Got it. We cool?”

The knot in her stomach slowly unwound. “Yeah. As long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“I promise. No more touching or kissing. If there is a replay, it’ll be because you initiated it.” He gave her a stern look. “So keep your paws off me, woman.”

She laughed, grateful for the return of the ease between them. They really did have a special friendship, one she cherished. And for the sake of their friendship, she would try to forget the kiss. But that might be harder to do than she’d like. For all his geekiness, Noah Jensen was one hell of a kisser.