The admission means a lot, and I feel closer to Noah now than I ever have. “And the rest? You said it was part of it.”
Noah glances over and takes a deep breath. “When River and I created Friendzone, I was so sure it was our ticket. That I’d be able to take care of myself, of my family. That Mom would be able to retire and finally not worry, and Arielle could become anything she wanted. Instead, I had a bit of money, but by the time River and I paid off the loans and investors, it wasn’t enough to go around the way I’d hoped, and I had to take a corporate job.”
“Yet you seem happy with your work now. River definitely does.”
Noah nods. “I do love my job. I have good people, good mentors, and yes, a damn good paycheck. But at the time, I was young, dumb, and broke. I was mad that you had this opportunity for school at your feet and planned to just walk away from it when my mom was working two jobs to split the cost of Arielle’s school with me. I was pissed that your dad was there, joking around and being all lovey-dovey with your mom, when mine had bailed. I was jealous of you for having the guts to try and make it on your own. But really, it had nothing to do with you. I hated what I saw as my own failure.”
“I don’t think you could’ve been a failure if you’d tried. It’s not who you are,” I assure him. “And thank you. For the full truth.”
“I’m still so sorry about what I said,” Noah says, looking over at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road.
I squeeze his hand, wanting to write the end of that chapter and move on to this one forever. “Can we agree that we’ve made our peace about that day? I never held a grudge because River said you were going through some family stuff and that it wasn’t about me. That doesn’t mean I didn’t think you were a rude asshole, but I understand now. Let’s leave the past in the past and see what the future might hold.”
Noah nods, and it feels like the beginning of something new, and that’s exciting. And looking over at Noah, I realize that he feels exactly the same way.
But dredging all of that up is a hell of a way to start a date.
“Where are you taking me, anyway?” I ask, hoping for a lighter topic.
“You’ll see.”
I relax into the seat, trusting that he’s got a plan, plus a back-up plan, and a back-up to the back-up. It’s who he is. Me? I could ride around all night and just stop when something caught my eye. But as my belly growls a little, I think maybe he’s got the better idea this time—a destination in mind with what I’m sure will be good food. Noah wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m surprised when he parks at Big Mike’s, though. I would’ve thought he’d find it low-class or overly-kitschy as a themed diner that somehow combines everything from the fifties to the eighties. I’ve heard of it online but have never been here before.
I’m excited for my first time to be with Noah.
Walking into Big Mike’s, Noah holds the door for me, and I truly feel like a lady. The way Noah looks at me, I feel sexy and powerful, and as we sit down, I have to smile as he shifts in his seat, probably adjusting himself. “Is there something wrong, Mr. Daniels?”
Noah leans over to take my hand. “No. I was just thinking that your legs look amazing in those heels with your dress swishing as your hips sway when you walk. I was considering whether I could get you to walk around a bit more so I could watch.”
His voice goes rough and deep, and I wonder what else he wants to watch.
That thought makes reality flood in, and it really starts to hit me. He’s one sexy man, and he wants me and isn’t shy about letting me know it.
“Oh, my God . . . I’m on a date with my best friend’s big brother.”
Noah laughs, his eyes full of understanding. “And I’m on a date with my little sister’s best friend,” he reminds me. “Whichever way you want to put it . . . I’m okay with it.”
We both smile in acceptance of the crazy situation we’ve found ourselves in, and I take a moment to actually look around Big Mike’s. In most of the writeups online, it’s been described as a throwback diner. But right now, it looks more like a retro nightclub with food. There’s dim safety lighting around the base of each booth, throwing the neon lighting on the wall into sharp relief and making the whole restaurant look very blue and pink. Even the black and white vinyl floor is washed in the hues of the colorful lighting.
Almost every table is packed, and the dance floor has half a dozen couples out there dancing. Two of the couples are in full-on retro costumes as well, one looking like a pair of bobby soxers from the fifties while the other looks more Studio 54 in the seventies. It’s a multi-generation dance battle showcase out there, poodle-skirted American Bandstand versus gold lame jumpsuit-wearing Soul Train dancing to Wham!
“Have you ever been here before?” Noah asks, and I shake my head as I lift my brows questioningly. “Me neither. I wasn’t sure I’d like it, but it came highly recommended and was at the top of the list for places to take a date in Briar Rose.”
Delight blooms in my belly. “Did you look up date places?”
I swear on my half-million followers, on my very brand, on my very spirit, that Noah Daniels’s tanned cheeks flush a warm pink. “I don’t date much, and my instincts were to take you somewhere fancy. I know enough to know that wouldn’t impress you, though, and I wanted to do something fun and memorable.”
I lay my hand over his where he hasn’t let me go, his thumb rubbing circles on my skin tantalizingly. “That’s so sweet. Thank you.” I pause and see his eyes tick off to the side and then back to me. “Is it driving you crazy in here?”
He sags, leaning forward to huff out, “Fuck, yes!” He shakes his head. “It’s so disorganized, like a warehouse of memorabilia with no logical, reasonable storage system. There’s eighties lighting, outfits from every decade, sixties photos—” He points to the large, framed poster of Sean Connery as James Bond. “It’s . . . a lot. Does that make me uptight?” he asks with a self-deprecating laugh, repeating what I called him before.
I narrow my eyes, studying him and liking the way he squirms as he awaits my judgment. “Nope, not uptight. What it makes you is in desperate need of a view reframing. You look around and see mismatched decades. What if, instead . . . you chose to frame them as iconic moments in Pop Culture? Change the umbrella you’re organizing under, and it becomes a celebration of forty years, an explosion of amazing things that represent our past, bringing back happy times. Same things around you, but seen through a different lens.”
Noah blinks, and then blinks again, before looking around the room. Nothing in our surroundings has changed, but could my simple words have changed the way he sees them?
“Okay . . . okay, I can kinda see that. A little,” he says slowly.
I wink, pleased at his effort. “It doesn’t happen overnight, but you can change your mindset a little bit at a time. People can learn to relax or learn to be more dedicated, reprogram their inner voice, and see the world around them through a different set of lenses. That’s part of what I do, changing people’s day by infusing positivity and appreciation into their lives. A little sunshine,” I finish, my passion for what I do making me sound a little crazy.