A waitress passed their table and Libby got her attention. “Another mojito, please.”
Libby shot Noah a questioning glance and he shook his head. “I’m good.”
They spent the next thirty minutes at the table, both of them winning some and losing some, then Libby finished her drink and stood. “Let’s go do something else.”
They scooped up their chips and moved away from the table. Libby wobbled slightly, so Noah took her arm. “Why don’t we get something to eat?”
“What time is it? I thought you made dinner reservations for eleven.”
“It’s around nine-thirty, but we haven’t eaten since this afternoon. I’m hungry. Let’s get a snack.”
“I thought you wanted to gamble.”
“Let’s sit at the slot machines. We can grab something to eat while we play.”
“Okay. But first I have to go to the restroom.”
“Of course you do,” he chuckled. “I’ll go get something to eat and meet you at these slots right here, okay?”
She studied him for a moment. “Afraid I’ll ditch you?”
His breath caught. “Should I be?”
A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “No, you’re safe for now.”
Chapter Sixteen
Libby went into the restroom and took care of her business, then washed her shaking hands and looked at her reflection.
Why had she flirted with those guys? It wasn’t like she was interested, but if she was going to act on this impulse to sleep with someone, it would be better to do it with a stranger she’d never have to see again than to sleep with Noah and lose him forever.
But it made her feel slimy and unworthy of Noah’s friendship.
She wasn’t sure why his reaction to those guys had surprised her. She couldn’t ignore what was right in front of her face. Noah wanted to sleep with her. There was no misinterpreting that. She wasn’t sure she could be strong enough for the both of them.
He was waiting at a slot machine with a bowl of nachos and a couple of bottles of water.
She sat down next to him, grinning. “You realize how ridiculous this is, right? I’m wearing this dress and you’re in a tux, but we’re sitting here eating chips covered in processed cheese in front of dollar slot machines.”
He grabbed a chip and took a bite. “It’s kind of more us, don’t you think?” He held up the container toward her. “The nachos, not the machines.”
She took a chip and leaned over the container so she didn’t drip cheese on her dress. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“How come you’ve never read my palm?”
The question came out of nowhere and caught her off guard. “Uh . . . I don’t know.” But that wasn’t true. She realized that now. She’d been worried about what she’d see, or more aptly, what she wouldn’t see.
He took another chip and looked into her eyes. “You’ve read the palms of just about everyone we know, yet you’ve never asked to read mine.”
“First of all, we hardly have any friends in common, and second, you’ve never asked me to read your palm.”
He set the tray of nachos down and held out his palm to her. “Libby,” he said in a husky voice. “I want you to read my palm.”
Her heart began to race, and she fought to keep her breathing even. She started to reach for his hand, then stopped. What was she so afraid of? Confirmation of what she already knew? Noah McMillan wasn’t the man destined for her. “You don’t believe in it.”
“Maybe I do. You do. And you were right about Josh.”
“I thought you said it was a lucky guess.”
“What difference does it make if I believe or not? I want you to read my palm.”
She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, the contact sending a jolt of desire straight to her core. Trying her best to ignore it, she cradled his hand in hers, using her right index finger to trace the lines.
“What does it say?”
Her nerves were on edge and she could hardly concentrate on the grooves in his hand. “You have a deep life line. You’re very healthy.”
“True.” Her eyes were still on his hand, but she could hear the grin in his voice.
“It’s also very long. You’ll live a long life.”
“So you’re saying I can take up dangerous sports without fear, like sky diving or rope-free cliff climbing.”
She grinned and snuck a look at him. “No.”
His eyes held hers and she felt a new connection to him. What was it? It was at once deep and unnerving and . . . comforting. Then it hit her.
Love.
She loved him.
Not just you’re my best friend love. She was head over heels in love with him.
“Go on,” he coaxed softly. “I want to hear about my love line.”
Oh, God. This was terrible. What did she do with this knowledge—this yearning for him? Noah was bound to freak out if he knew she felt anything for him other than friendship and primal lust. If he even got an inkling, he was sure to take off running. That’s what he’d done with all of his past relationships.
Get it together, she told herself. Don’t let him see anything’s wrong. She took a breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m not done with your life line.”
“All right.”
With great difficulty, she tore her eyes from his and looked down at his palm. “There are several hash marks on your life line indicating major life events.” She lifted his hand closer to her face. “The first was in your very early twenties.”