Page 44 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

Noah came to sit on the edge of the sofa bed beside her and held out a hand for the sketchpad. Like she’d just hand it over.Uh, no. There were drawings in there thatnobodyshould see. Instead, Annabelle opened it and turned to the first drawing, then angled the sketchpad so he could see the image on the paper.

As soon as it registered, he threw back his head and laughed deeply. “I love it,” he said at last.

“Don’t tell the triplets,” Annabelle pleaded.

His eyes sparkled. “That’ll cost you.”

Annabelle tore her eyes from his and considered her drawing. She’d portrayed the triplets as a set of three identical superheroes in tights and flowing capes. They stood in the classic superhero position—hands on hips, chins high, staring into the distance. Written across their chests in bold letters were their hero names: Copy. Paste. Repeat.

“Violet’s gonna love this. So cool how you’ve put Harris and Logan in Scottish blue, but Evan’s in a bright pink and orange suit. Show me more.”

With a mixture of relief, pride, and vulnerability, Annabelle turned the page. This one showed Violet morphing from a tiny cop into an oversized warrior who dwarfed the triplets. Godzilla Violet lifted a foot as though to stomp them out of existence.”

“Perfect.” Noah shook his head in delighted amusement.

She turned another page to reveal Abasi seated in a glass box of a prison while Rochelle stood outside, saying,“You can help us fine from in there.”

Abasi looked relaxed and amused in his signature tailored suit, while Rochelle was clad in full RoboCop armor.

“Hilarious.” Noah grinned at her. “But he needs more guards.”

Annabelle laughed. “I can sort that.”

He pointed at the pad. “Where am I? You’ve drawn the whole team, right?”

She bit her bottom lip while debating whether or not to show him.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “I won’t be offended. Hell, I’m flattered that someone with your skill wants to draw any of us. Show me. Pretty please.”

“You’re pathetic.” She sighed and turned to the page where she’d drawn him.

His face blank, Noah studied it intently. It was impossible to tell what he thought of her drawing. She’d put him in a series of comic book panels, showing him transforming from a ferocious bulldog into a pumped-up avenger, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and toting a gun. Fearless, he confronted a faceless gang while a small family cowered behind him in the background. He was larger than life. Immovable. Their defender. And all his character said to the gang was,“No.”

“That’s…” He seemed at a loss for words. “Amazing,” he finished at last, looking up at Annabelle. There was an intensity in his gaze that she couldn’t decipher. And suddenly, the room seemed a whole lot smaller and way more intimate than when he first walked in.

Swallowing hard, she quickly shut her sketchbook, her cheeks burning as if they were on fire. She shouldn’t have shown him the drawing. It gave away far too much. Hell, it was practically an ode to hero worship.

“Can I have it?” Noah’s question surprised her, making her eyes snap back to his. He shrugged, holding her gaze. “I mean, if you don’t plan on doing anything with it.”

“I don’t have any plans. I was just sketching for fun.”

“Well, if you don’t need it, can I have it?”

Annabelle searched his face. “Are you sure you want it?”

His lips quirked into a smile that felt like a caress. “Just give me the drawing, Bella.”

She sucked in a breath. Her aunt was the only one who’d ever called her Bella.

“Sorry,” he said. “I meant Annabelle… but I still want the drawing.”

“Bella’s fine,” she whispered as she carefully ripped the page from the sketchbook and held it out to him.

His fingers brushed against hers, and it felt like an electric current running through her body. She froze, the drawing suspended between them. For a moment, it was as though the air had transformed into fog, making it difficult to breathe and shutting out the world around them. The walls of the room seemed to move closer, the space forming an intimate cocoon.

“Noah?” she whispered.

He wet his lips, his eyes darting between her eyes and her mouth, and for a second, he appeared to move closer. She held her breath as time suspended. And then… he shot to his feet, taking the drawing with him.