Page 54 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
He leans back to look me in the eyes and shakes his head. “Nope. Not worried at all.”
But I’m worried. Because I’m sure all the women in my family before me thought their relationship felt right and true and nothing could go wrong. Until it did.
When neither of us says anything for a while, he suddenly turns me on his lap so we can face each other better. His hand is still on my waist, and the setting sun is making his black hair seem like pools of ink. God, he’s so freaking hot. I think I like Noah Jacobs’s face more than anyone else’s in the world right now.
He’s watching me with the same intensity.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I like looking at you,” he admits easily.
Ugh, he’s so adorable that it actually hurts.
“Okay,” he says, taking one of my hands in his. “So, I don’tknow about this curse of yours. I do know that I like you a lot, and that I’ve liked you pretty much since the day I met you. And here’s the thing, Meera. If I did believe in curses, I would be sure thatI’mthe one who’s cursed, not you. Because pretty much every good thing that’s ever happened to me has gone up in flames. But I refuse to believe in curses, because if either of us knew that we couldn’t have good things, then what would even be the point in trying?”
“Trying for what?”
“Trying to make connections with people. Trying to have a future. Me practicing my music every day. You taking all those beautiful pictures. Like, I don’t know.” He pauses for a beat and looks down at our hands intertwined. “My dad’s musical dreams were crushed, and so were mine. It would be easy to blame it on a curse. But even though I can’t go to TMU like I wanted to, I still play every day. I’m keeping up with my music lessons. I’m not going to give up something I love because of some superstition. Believing that I’m cursed means believing I don’t deserve good things. And that’s not true. I do deserve good things. We both do.”
I blink. This isNoah, a guy who’s seen more crap in his life than anyone should, and yet somehow he still believes hedeservesbetter. And he’s telling me that I shouldn’t walk away from a connection like this because some bad stuff happened to people in my family.
He likes me… for me. He likes my cheesy puns, my photographs, and my ambition. And I’m supposed to walk away from the person who makes me feel the best I’ve ever felt, because something badmighthappen?
Maybe I’m cursed, and maybe I’m not. But right now thisgood, wise, hopeful, and breathtakingly gorgeous guy is into me, and I like him more than I’ve liked anyone else.
I squeeze my lips, then reach behind my neck and unfasten my black tourmaline necklace. I place the necklace in his hand.
He smiles. “What’s this for?”
“It…” I hesitate. “I started wearing this to protect me from the curse, but I don’t want to do things… ornotdo things because of fear anymore. You said you liked it, so you should wear it.”
He grins. “Put it on me?”
I reach behind his neck and fasten the necklace on him. It looks better on him than it ever did on me. I put my hand on his cheek. He tilts his head so that he can kiss the palm of my hand.
“So, we’re…,” I say slowly.
He smiles. “Getting to know each other. Seeing where this can go.”
I nod. I lean forward and kiss those perfect lips.
This isn’t a mistake. I deserve to be happy, and so does Noah.
CHAPTER NINETEENCrime and Punishment
Eventually we have to sneak back to the party, although I would much rather stay and make out with Noah on the bandstand. We don’t hop the fence again, though, because it’s darker now, and I really don’t want to break my ankle. Once we’re back on LeClair grounds, it’s clear that the company picnic is pretty much done. I can see a bunch of people in the distance up front, so I assume Mom and Jason are still there.
“I should probably…” Noah glances at the sparse field. “Maybe it would be better if I went home.”
I nod. Yeah, I have no idea if Mom realized I was gone, so it might be better if they don’t see Noah and me walk back together.
Noah doesn’t kiss me goodbye, which, fair. We’re on LeClair grounds now. But he does squeeze my hand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at CROP,” I say, smiling.
He smiles. “Can’t wait.” He gives my hand a final squeeze before leaving, walking down the street toward his house. Once I can’t see him anymore, I head toward the executive tables.
Mom is talking to a couple of women, and when she seesme, she smiles, but her eyebrow is twitching. She definitely noticed that I was gone.
