“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk.” I went quiet for a minute, then said, “Did you know it’s my birthday today? Aoife gifted me a new chain for my cross.” I lifted said chain, and Noah’s eyes flashed to it briefly.
“I didn’t know it was your birthday.” He looked regretful, his eyes softening as he stared at the road. “Happy birthday.”
There was something about the simple sentiment on his lips that warmed my heart. “Thank you.”
Another few minutes passed before he asked, “Want to celebrate?”
The mischievous glint in his eyes made me excited. “Okay,” I breathed. “What do you have in mind?”
***
“This isn’t how I imagined I’d be celebrating my birthday,” I said, following Noah around a designer furniture shop. It was one of those places where everything looked like it came straight off the set of Mad Men, and each item cost an arm and a leg.
Noah set his sights on a bright red chair that looked like it was made from a single piece of plastic. From the side it looked sort of like an S shape tilted backward.
“Aren’t you turned on right now?” he said, running his hand along the chair. He lowered himself into it, crossed one leg over his knee and surveyed me with a confident gaze. “This is a Panton chair, first designed by Verner Panton in 1960. Look at how sleek yet simplistic the design is. It’s timeless, a thing of true beauty.”
“This obsession of yours is really starting to worry me,” I said. “People will start calling you a chair-osexual if you’re not careful.”
Noah barked a laugh at that, motioning me closer. I took two steps towards him, stopping when my leg met his knee. “Do you want to know a secret?”
His quietly spoken question made me shiver. “Sure.”
“One day I want to own a shop just like this one,” he replied, and a chuckle escaped me. It was the last thing I expected him to say.
“You want to sell overpriced furniture to snooty people with too much money?”
He smiled wide and bobbed his head. “Yep.”
“That is … Okay, weirdly I can totally see that for you. But what about your security job with Mayor McBride?”
Noah reached out, snagging my wrist and pulling me down. I let out a tiny breath as my bottom met his lap, and he pushed my long hair over my shoulder. He met my eyes in the reflection of a large mirror on the other side of the store as he whispered, “I have a feeling I’ll be moving on from that particular career very soon.”
Before I had a chance to ask him why, a store assistant appeared in front of us. “Can I help you with anything?”
Noah gently pushed me up off his lap, his fingers very faintly brushing my bottom as he did. I emitted a small gasp at the contact, then stood and he followed suit. “No, thank you,” he answered, guiding me out of the shop.
“Where to next?” I asked as we wandered down the street.
Noah eyed me. I felt self-conscious as he ran his gaze over my uniform. “You need a new outfit. Where’s your favourite place to buy clothes?”
I chewed my lower lip. “I don’t think I have one.”
“In that case, pick a shop, any shop.”
I glanced at some of the boutiques we passed by, exhilarated by the idea of buying something new. There was a pretty, red dress in the window of a shop called Folkster that caught my attention. I walked in, and Noah followed.
“Get whatever you want,” he said. “I’m buying.”
I stared at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re serious?”
He pulled out his wallet and waggled it in the air. “Money’s no object.”
“Um, okay,” I said, warily looking around. I was completely out of my depth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d shopped for clothes. It had been years.
Noah must’ve sensed my hesitation because he slid his hand into mine and walked me through the racks of clothing. He began browsing items, pulling things out and throwing them over his shoulder as he went. I noticed he grabbed the red dress, the one I’d been eyeing in the window. Something about how perceptive he was made me feel a simmering heat beneath my skin.
It was almost closing time, so the store was mostly empty. No one noticed Noah slipping into the ladies changing rooms with me.
“Try some of these,” he said, shoving the selection of dresses at me. I took them, standing in the doorway of a changing cubicle. “First, explain to me why you’re buying me clothes.”
Noah’s lips tightened. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then replied, “Because I’m taking you to dinner. You can’t go into a nice restaurant in your school uniform.”
“Right,” I said. “That makes sense, but …” A pause before I continued, “Why are you taking me to dinner?”