The first thing Jaya ever learned from life was to work hard and never get attached to someone else. So what's a woman to do when she ends up living next door to a male supermodel who's looking for a connection that goes beyond skin-deep?
At twenty...
In the evening, Jaya sat at the dining table across from Noah, watching him eat. And not because she wasn't hungry or because there was something wrong with the way he ate. It was because this whole month had been surreal. Maybe she'd imagined it all because she'd never had a month like this before. She'd worked, studied, and read far less than she ever had in her adult life, and she'd barely done any construction work either. All because of him.
How does he do it? She narrowed her eyes at Noah.
Squinting back at her, he gestured with his fork. "What, not hungry?"
She was starving, actually. "I'm trying to figure out if you put some voodoo spell on me."
Noah put down his fork. "And what kind of spell would that be? That you may only crave Italian from here on out?" He made a spaghettata gesture while gazing lovingly at the plate of spaghetti bolognese in front of him.
This hand gesture was particularly endearing, and he was to use it only when seriously hungry and craving spaghetti. He looked damn cute twirling his index and middle finger to imitate picking up spaghetti with a fork, his elbow facing sideward.
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The first time she had dinner with Noah, he'd told her Italians used approximately 250 hand gestures daily. His expressive body language was one of the things she adored about him.
Grinning, Jaya dug into her spaghetti. Noah resumed eating too, and they spent the rest of dinner making googly eyes at each other, which was an entirely novel experience to her.
Once Noah finished his plate, he told her about his upcoming plans. "I have to go to New York next week, and I was wondering if Penelope could stay with you while I'm gone?"
She twirled the last few noodles around her fork. "Sure. How long will you be gone?"
"Two weeks."
She dropped her fork, which clattered on the plate. "Two weeks?"
"I know it's the longest Penelope will be without me, but traveling is part of my job. I can leave her with my parents if two weeks is too much for you. I'd rather leave her with you though, because you're her favorite person in the world—after me, of course." He smiled at her, but she didn't manage to smile back.
The problem wasn't the dog. The tug she felt was at the thought of not seeing him for that long. "I'll take her. Why two weeks? Is it Fashion Week?"
His fingertips touched hers. "I'm guest-starring on a TV show."
She glanced down at their linked hands. "It's going to be weird not seeing you."
He stroked her hand with his thumb. "Yeah, but it's only for two weeks."
He was right; two weeks wasn't long. So why did she want to jump across the table and make him stay?
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