“Dance with me,” Bella says, pulling me up from the sofa.
I hold her hands and we start spinning around and around, faster and faster. It’s as if Noah’s voice is carrying us and it makes me feel powerful, invincible, fearless, and free. It makes me feel head over heels in love.
Chapter Thirty-Four
After two hours of singing and dancing and acting out elaborate storylines involving beautiful princesses and rock-star princes and alien-pig invasions, Bella is limp with tiredness.
“I think somebody might be ready for bed,” Noah says, putting his guitar down.
“No!” Bella cries, but it’s really halfhearted and she rests her head in my lap.
“I tell you what, why doesn’t Penny read you a bedtime story while I do a bit of clearing up down here.”
Bella immediately springs upright. “OK!”
Noah looks at me and smiles. “Take your time,” he says. “I’ve got a few things to sort out here.”
I nod and pick Bella up. “Come on then, Princess Bella the Third.”
Once I’ve gotten Bella in bed, I put Princess Autumn on the pillow next to her.
“I’m gonna be so sad when you go,” Bella says in a tired little voice.
“I’m going to be really sad too,” I say, smoothing down her hair. “I was thinking—maybe Princess Autumn should stay with you.”
Bella’s eyes open wide. “For real?”
I smile. “Yes. I think she’d be happier here.”
Bella nods. “I think you’re right. And that way, every time I feel sad about you I can play with Princess Autumn instead.”
“Exactly.” I tuck Princess Autumn in next to Bella and start telling her a story about Prince William and Princess Kate and the day they had to rescue the Queen from an alien-pig invasion. Eventually, she falls asleep. I kiss her on the forehead and I’m just about to leave when Noah comes in.
“Good work,” he whispers as he sees her asleep. “I’ll just kiss her good night. I’ll see you down in the basement.”
I nod and a weird sensation of excitement and fear courses right through me to the soles of my feet. Finally, Noah and I are going to be alone together.
As I go down into the basement, I see some twinkling fairy lights at the far end. At first I think it’s coming from a Christmas tree but it’s the wrong shape. I go past the sofas and see that the lights are coming from the pool table. But it doesn’t look like a pool table anymore because it’s got blankets draped over it and fairy lights strung all around it.
I hear Noah coming down the steps behind me.
“I built you a tent,” he says. “I remembered what you said about it being your favorite place when you were younger, where you felt safe and . . .” He breaks off, looking embarrassed.
Completely without warning, my eyes fill with tears.
“Was it a dumb idea?” Noah asks, looking at me. “Oh crap, you’re crying. It was a dumb idea. I’m sorry, I—”
“No,” I interrupt. “It’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.”
Noah smiles. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” I look up at him. “Thank you for listening to me. For remembering what I say to you.”
Noah frowns. “Why wouldn’t I remember?” He grabs my hand. “Wait till you see what’s inside.”
Giggling, I follow him over to the tent. He’s pinned a handwritten sign to one of the blankets.
THIS HERE IS PENNY’S TENT. KEEP OUT!
. . . unless your name is Noah.
He pulls back an opening in the blanket and gestures at me to go in. I get down on my knees and crawl inside. The entire floor is covered in different-colored cushions and the edges are lit by a string of fairy lights that are fading in and out. In one corner there’s a tray of Sadie Lee’s homemade mince pies. In another corner there’s a tray with a jug of lemonade and a couple of glasses.
“This is amazing,” I say, as Noah crawls in after me.
“Are you sure?” He looks at me with such intensity, as if he’s trying to read my mind, to make sure that I’m telling the truth.
“Yes! It’s way better than the tents I used to make. I never had fairy lights for a start.”
Noah grins.
“Or a—” I break off, embarrassed.
“Or a what?”
He stares at me. We’re so close I can feel his breath on my face.
“Or a handsome prince.” I look down at the cushions.
“Penny?”
I look back up at him. He’s looking really serious.
“Yes?”
“I really like you.”
“I really like you too.”
“No, I mean, really like you. I like you so much it might even be . . .”
I look at him, willing him to say it.
“. . . love,” he whispers.
I nod and take hold of his hand. “I like you so much it might even be love too.”
He laughs. “You don’t get lines that smooth in the movies.”
I laugh too. “No. But smooth is very overrated.”
And then he wraps his strong arms around me and pulls me close. “I’m so sad you’re leaving,” he whispers in my ear.
“Me too.” I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“But this isn’t it, you know?”
I pull back and look at him. His hair is tumbling in messy waves around his face. I fight the urge to reach out and touch it.