“I think it’s a sign,” Noah says. “I think you were meant to take a sunset stroll with me through Central Park tonight.” I meet his eyes, not laughing anymore. His smile quickens my pulse. “But you said you didn’t want to get a drink with Bernadette. I thought . . . Don’t you have plans?” “I didn’t want to get a drink with Bernadette,” he says, still looking at me. “But I’d love to take a walk with you.” We stare at each other for a supercharged few seconds, and that’s when I feel it. It’s not just attraction I have for Noah. There’s something between us. He feels it, too.
AHHHHHH
