But that’s silly. Noah doesn’t have any reason to start getting all jealous and territorial. Especially not after one night of admittedly mind-blowing sex. Unless . . . Surely all of those stories about alpha behavior are bullshit, right? There’s no way that Noah would do a one-eighty after one night.
I shake my head, taking an aggressive slurp from my straw as Parker and Priya’s chatter fades back in from where I’d stopped listening.
“I think it’s really cute,” Priya is saying.
I look up at her. “What is?”
“Noah going all soft now that everyone knows you’re mated.”
The more juvenile part of my subconscious snorts; after last night, I’m pretty sure there isn’t anything soft about Noah.
“I think it’s weird,” Parker grumbles.
Priya rolls her eyes. “You’re just jealous. You need a cute boy and a massage, dude.”
“I have a cute boy,” Parker says smugly.
Priya’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh my God, you guys have been holding out so much good gossip. Who is it? How cute are we talking?”
“Do you remember the instructor from that time you went with us to hot yoga?”
“Yeah,” Priya grimaces. “I will not be doing the sweaty yoga ever again, thank you very much. Instructor was definitely yummy though. Wait.” Her mouth drops open. “No. He’s gay?”
“Mhm.” Parker grins. “My massages are well taken care of for the foreseeable future.”
Priya hmphs. “You guys suck. My last date took me to a drive-in porn movie. In 3D! We sat there for forty-five minutes watching stuff splatter against the big screen.”
“Wait,” I say. “Why do I want to try that?”
Parker snorts. “You would.”
“Trust me,” Priya scoffs. “Count yourselves lucky to be off the market.”
Parker and I share another look, and I know that if Priya wasn’t sitting here with us, he’d probably be ranting at me again about the irrationality of my actions lately, but my mind is already delving back down into the spiral that is: Why did Noah kiss me earlier? Had it really been him simply adding another layer to our ruse, or had it been sparked by something else?
I don’t know what confuses me more: Noah’s possible reasons or the fact that I hadn’t even thought twice about it until now.
“I’ve got to run,” Priya tells us, throwing the wrapper for her sandwich onto her tray along with her napkin. “I’ve got an intubation in a half hour.” She points at us both, giving us a stern look. “I expect more hot goss when I see you two again. I’m now officially living vicariously through you.”
To his credit, Parker waits until she’s out of sight to start in on me. “He kissed you?”
“Don’t even start.”
“That didn’t strike you as odd?”
“I told you. He was just playing the part.”
Although, I’m even second-guessing that now. Not that Parker needs to know that.
“I’m just worried about you,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t want you catching feelings for some guy who’s going to jet off to Albuquerque in a few weeks and leave you high and dry.”
I shake my head, making an indignant sound. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Famous last words,” he mutters.
I roll my eyes, grateful when Parker becomes focused on his phone seconds later since it gives me a moment alone with my thoughts. I can see why my friend would be concerned, given that supposedly Noah and I being together is supposed to be some grand, destined thing—but outside of a spectacular night of sex, there’s absolutely nothing that has changed about our original arrangement. Kiss or no kiss. Reading too much into this is just going to give me an unnecessary headache. Best just to pack it away.
I pop the last bite of my flatbread in my mouth, staring at a blank spot on the cafeteria wall as an indeterminable number of seconds tick by. I reach to rub my neck as that same tightness sets off again, a prickling following after that I ignore as my mind wanders.
But why did he kiss me?
* * *
?I haven’t heard from Noah since the hallway incident earlier, and honestly, I’ve been a little hesitant to text him again. I’m blaming all of the muddled thoughts I’ve been wading through since viewing his actions from earlier in a different light. Still, I know I can’t avoid him forever, and I probably should clarify that we’re okay.
The hall where his office is located is decidedly empty this late in the afternoon, and part of me worries that I might have missed him. He would have at least let me know he was leaving, surely. Then again, why would he? Despite my assurances that nothing about our relationship—or rather, our fake relationship—would change after one night . . . For some reason little things like this are a bit blurry to me.