She’d brought her cell phone outside with her, had been debating whether to text Molly or Becca on the off chance they’d be awake and available to talk. But the name displayed on the screen wasn’t of either of her two closest women friends. It was of the man she’d come out here to forget.
She knew she should ignore the call. It would be the sensible, the healthy thing to do. But then she thought of the way he’d asked her to be his friend, of how he’d exposed his need when he never allowed anyone to see his vulnerability, and felt her resolve break. “It’s two a.m.,” she said into the receiver.
“I was passing by your place, figured I’d try my luck.”
Noah had no cause to pass by her place. “Go home.”
“I tried.” A quiet pause. “Molly made me a bed at her and Fox’s place. I snuck out.”
He was fine, Kit thought. He wasn’t drunk or in trouble. He was just… “Go home,” she said again. “There’s nothing for you here.”
“How about my friend?” It was a rough question.
Kit pressed a hand over her heart, pushing into the ache within. “She’s sitting here thinking about the shopping she has to do tomorrow for her mother’s annual luncheon.” Adreina organized a group mother-and-daughter luncheon for her and her friends every year, and no matter what, Kit would never hurt her by refusing to attend.
Unfortunately, it meant a new outfit head to toe. Her mother insisted. “Make an effort, Kathleen,” she’d say in a throaty voice that still carried faint hints of a Venezuelan accent. “If you don’t wear the latest styles, people will think your career’s sliding and you’re pinching pennies.”
The worst thing was that she was right. With Kit’s career on the rise, the media, the industry, the audience, they were all watching her like hawks. She might worry about her mortgage, but everyone else was interested only in whether she gave the impression of a financially secure A-list actress.
“That come around again already?” Noah’s voice sank into her bones, into her blood, into every part of her.
She wanted to scream at him to get out, to leave her be, but he kept on haunting her, kept on becoming part of her. “Yep,” she said and rose to her feet. “I better go to bed so I’ll be bright and shiny for the shopping trip tomorrow.”
“Good night, Kit.”
“Good night, Noah.” Why can’t you see me like I see you?
Kit was both surprised and not when her phone rang at ten the next day. “Want some company for that shopping trip?” was Noah’s response to her hello. “I’m about to reach the gates to your house.”
Her fingers clenched into her palm. “You really want us plastered all over the tabloids?”
“Nobody believes we’re a couple, not after we so totally debunked the last lot of rumors.”
Those rumors had begun when a very smart reporter picked up on the edgy chemistry between Noah and the soap actress Kit had been at the time. However, when Noah made it clear he was dating everyone but Kit and Kit started dating a costar, the rumors had died a quick death. Their demise had been helped along by the fact she and Noah had both laughed it off, as had the other members of the band.
In one memorable quote, Noah had said, “Date Kathleen? It’d be like dating my sister.”
So yes, he was probably right about the tabloids not making a big deal of it. “Since when do you like shopping?”
“I’ve been watching that show with the designers. I can make it work.”
Her lips twitched at the well-known catchphrase. That was the thing with Noah—he could charm, but he also had a great sense of humor. Sometimes it was wicked, other times sarcastic, occasionally quiet, but the only people who ever saw it were those he trusted. That list was very short.
Stop it, Kit. Stop trying to make yourself special to him.