Kit was feeling guardedly optimistic. Not only was Noah sleeping at least a few uninterrupted hours a night, he was working with her to figure out the physical stuff. She’d thought it’d be awkward and hard, but it wasn’t. It was fun, like they were teenagers, cautious and not quite sure what was okay and what wasn’t.
Noah had really gotten into the “romantic bullshit.” Turned out the bad boy of rock liked kissing. Kit had never been so thoroughly kissed in all her life. The night before, he’d pinned her down on the bed outside and, one hand gripping her jaw, kissed her until she’d all but melted into the bed. For a man who’d avoided kissing before, he’d sure picked it up fast.
“I love him so much,” she confessed to Becca when she met her friend for a coffee a week later, a surely silly smile on her face.
Becca laughed, her makeup relatively low-key today, though her hair remained that gorgeous, vibrant blue. “In that case, I’m happy for you, you sappy goof. I will, however, still stab him in delicate places if he hurts you.”
Reaching over, Kit touched Becca’s hand. “It’s different this time, trust me.” Noah remained the same man, but he was no longer using his defenses to block her out, sabotage their relationship. This was the Noah she’d come to know in their hotel room conversations—the sensitive, complicated, talented man who’d written a heartbreaking song about a sparrow with broken wings.
She understood that song now, knew how deeply personal it was, though to anyone who didn’t know his past, it would simply be a sweet, sad, beautiful song.
“Hey,” Becca said with a wry smile. “Boys come and go, but girlfriends are forever, right? I’m not going to mess with our friendship by dissing Noah when you love him.”
“I want you two to like each other—give him a shot, okay?” Kit knew this “boy” wouldn’t be going anywhere. He made her heart sing.
“Just for you.” Becca poked her cake fork at Kit. “Are you two coming to my birthday dinner? Crap, I think I forgot to e-mail you. It’s tomorrow night.”
“I feel wounded! Forgotten already.” Kit slapped a hand over her heart. “What time? Where?”
“Nothing fancy. My place. We’ll do takeout, and since I forgot to order a cake, we’ll eat random cakes I pick up from the grocery store. Seven p.m. to probably around ten thirty as a whole bunch of us have to be on set by eight the next day.”
“I’ll be there.” Kit crossed her fingers that Becca and Noah would hit it off. “And I’m going to make sure you have a proper birthday cake—chocolate-frosted vanilla, right?”
Becca’s smile was so sweet it belied the tough attitude she so often put on. “Thanks, Kit. I should’ve known I could count on you.”
Noah gave Kit a dubious look when she told him her hope that he and Becca would find common ground. “Becca is never going to like me, Kit. It’s in the girl code or something.”
“Just be nice to her,” Kit said, picking up her phone to call a caterer friend who owed her a favor—and who happened to have a baker on staff.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was actually nice to Becca, to the point that the makeup artist seemed to be thawing a little. Kit actually saw the two of them in conversation not long after Becca cut the dual-layer cake Kit’s caterer friend had managed on short notice, and Becca had a genuine smile on her face. Relieved she wouldn’t have to run interference between her man and one of her closest friends, Kit had a great time at the party.
Returning home with Noah around eleven that night, she stretched in the hallway. “That was a good night.”
The only awkward moment had come when Terrence turned up.
“Oh, shit,” Becca had mouthed from across the room. Later, when she’d had Kit alone, she’d been so apologetic. “I totally forgot you two had a thing before you got together with Noah. Do you want me to ask him to leave?”