NOAH
His voice was low, intimate, as if the ten other people staring at us with wide eyes didn't exist.
I was sweating. I could feel the dampness of my shirt against my back. "Yes," I croaked, staring intensely at a scratch on the table. "Very much. Thank you, sir."
"Good," he murmured, his eyes lingering on my mouth before he took another sip of his drink.
The next twenty minutes were the most awkward of my entire life. The group tried to perform normalcy, but it was like watching a play where everyone had forgotten their lines.
Mason brave put on a karaoke song, and the wailing of a heartbroken ballad provided a thin veil over the tension.
Cassian stayed. He didn't leave. He sat there, drinking his beer, making the occasional dry, devastating comment about the singing that made me bite my lip to keep from laughing.
But it was the touching that was killing me.
