We’ve got basics, like where we met, what we studied in college, but Noah must have ADD or something because getting him to concentrate now is like trying to teach a cat how to stop being an asshole.
“Okay, let’s try an easy one,” Damon says. “What does Matt like to do in his spare time?”
Noah grunts. “I’m guessing getting blowjobs in nightclubs is the incorrect answer?”
I groan and flop backward on the bed. “I give up. Is he always like this?” Don’t know why I’m asking when I know the answer will be yes.
“Spend time with you, you dumbass,” Damon says to Noah, ignoring me. “You know, when normal couples love each other, they want to spend every waking hour with each other. Athletes get hardly any time off, so the answer is spend time with you.”
“But that’s so … cheesy,” Noah says.
“We need to sell cheese.” Damon’s trying to keep his voice calm, but it ain’t working.
“Cheddar or Swiss?”
Damon stands. “From my experience, there’s no point even trying with Noah right now. Sorry, Matt. I tried.”
“Fuck you very much,” I call after him as he leaves the cabin.
“How unprofessional,” Noah says. “But at least it worked. What do you want to do now? Go for a drink? Snack? I think they have one of those lame-ass magician shows …”
I sit up and stare at him incredulously. “You said all those things just to get out of answering annoying questions?”
He smiles. “You’re welcome.”
“We need to know this stuff.”
“No, we don’t. We can wing it, and it’s all basic anyway.”
“And when we’re caught in a lie or we don’t know something about the other person?”
“We’re supposed to be a newly in love couple,” Noah says. “We’re not trying to sell that we’re soul mates and always have been. It’s perfectly natural we don’t know every little detail.”
“What if they ask about your family?”
Emptiness replaces his normally vibrant eyes. “I’ll handle any political questions. I’ve been trained for it my whole life.”
“But I haven’t. What if I mess it up?”
“Then you’ll be finding the nearest unemployment line.” He’s joking, but I’m seriously not in the mood. Noah must pick up on it, because he immediately apologizes. “You have nothing to worry about. It’s one interview in one magazine that hardly anyone will read anyway.”
I scoff. “That’s bullshit, and we both know it. One photo ruined my career, but it’s going to take a shit ton of positive press to fix it.”
With the largest sigh known to man, Noah moves to the minibar and grabs out another beer. It’s like the never-ending, bottomless pit of fridges. The housekeeping staff on the boat are like ninjas and restock the second anyone leaves the rooms.
“Fine,” he says, his tone defeated. “Let’s bore each other to tears with as much information as we can cram in, but if we’re going to do this, we should at least make it fun.”
“Is it impossible for you to be in the same room as me without a drink in your hand?”
“Not impossible, but it makes it more tolerable.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mumble. “Note to self: what does Noah like to do in his spare time? Drink.”
Noah leans against the wall of the small cabin and takes a long pull of beer. “I can think of another way to make this more fun, but you’ll hate that one even more.”
I don’t even need to ask what it is, because his hungry gaze traveling over me gives it all away, and I’m not even going to dignify his innuendo with a response.
Instead, I stand, because suddenly being on a bed is too tempting. I want to kiss that mouth again, press myself against him, and— “I think you’re right. This isn’t going to achieve anything. We’ll go catch that show.”
Noah’s smugness isn’t lost on me, and I realize I’ve played right into his hands. He didn’t want to do this stupid question prep, and he pushed all the right buttons to get both Damon and me to back down.
I don’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed.
Chapter Six
Noah
For the second day in a row, I wake up being spooned by a giant. Matt’s body heat makes my back sweaty, but I can’t help enjoying the warmth and sense of ease before I snap out of whatever temporary craziness it’s causing. I can’t like cuddling. Nope. No way.
I push him off me. “For someone who’s never had a boyfriend, you sure do like to cuddle.”
“It’s my body’s fault,” Matt says through a yawn. “I’m not in control of it when I’m asleep.” He rolls over and stretches that long torso of his as the sheet drops to his narrow waist.
“What time’s the photoshoot?” I ask.
“As soon as we dock.”
I amble out to the balcony. We’re still moving, but if I stick my head out as far as I can lean over without falling, there’s land visible in the distance.