Page 21 of The Commander

I shouldn’t care. Not anymore.

I should be thinking about whether things with Mark could turn serious and if I’m sabotaging the relationship because he’s not Noah.

“I’m having the chicken,” Marlene says as her phone beeps. “For the love of...I’ll be back in a minute. I taught my husband how to cook, but apparently his memory has holes in it.”

I chuckle and focus back on the menu.

My stomach is in knots, if I’m honest. Seeing Noah has thrown me and brought back all my feelings and memories I’ve been trying to suppress.

What if he wants to discuss the last time we saw one another, the night he left Texas? For all I know, he’s dating someone, and I’m just another GI he trained.

Yeah, right.

My eyes lift as someone drops into a seat opposite me. Heart slamming inside my chest, I lock eyes with the man himself. All handsome, clean-shaven, and making my body shiver with sexual anticipation.

“Evening, Ms. Parker.” Noah lifts his menu, shifting it a few inches to allow a server to pour water into his glass.

“Call me XO,” I say, dropping my eyes as I fight my smile.

God, he looks nice.

Tonight he’s wearing a black button-down shirt with the top buttons undone, showing off his Californian tan. The sleeves are rolled up. On his wrist is an expensive-looking gold watch.

Does he still have the bike?

Stop, Quinn.

“This is the first time we’ve been out for dinner together. It’s nice,” Noah says.

I glance around, hoping no one heard that.

What is he doing?

“This isn’t a date.” I frown.

“Close enough.” His lips twitch.

“Noah,” I whisper in warning.

“Yes?” He grins cheerfully, as if he has no idea why I’m annoyed.

“Stop it,” I hiss.

His eyes remain locked with mine, and I feel every bit of the intensity that flows between us as his smile slowly fades. All our history and everything that has taken place, the memories, the desires, the pain...and our goodbye. It’s all there.

I can pretend all I like, but we walked away from one another with scars. Sitting here together, alone, for all intents and purposes, the charade is hard to keep up.

“No,” he replies slowly and quietly, telling me what I already know.

Noah hasn’t given up on me as I thought he had. As I told him to. I’m not sure if the butterflies spinning around in my tummy are there because that makes me excited or very nervous.

Likely both.

I open my mouth to argue, to remind him of the cost here, but Marlene returns in a flurry, dropping her phone on the table and plonking down into her seat.

“Honestly, I even printed out the instructions. That man of mine can’t even boil water.” She sips her wine, oblivious to what’s happening right in front of her as Noah and I stare at one another.

Stop. I mouth the word, a hint of pleading in my eyes.