Page 51 of In the Frame

Noah snorts, folding his arms across his chest as he leans back in his chair. “You’ve given me a lot to digest here. Of course you had sex. It’s a wedding, after all. And, like you said, Florian’s hot. I saw him and agree.”

“I…” I falter, pressing my hands against my cheeks in an effort to cool them. “Yes.”

“Yes to sex or yes to wedding or yes to Florian being hot?” Noah teases.

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Well, how was he?” he encourages without any hesitation. “I mean, I bet that was fucking hot. If Raheem flew in from New York to bring me something, you bet I’m dragging him to the bedroom. God.”

I mirror his pose, folding my arms across my chest. Quite possibly, I could die of embarrassment. But also? It was amazing and intense, and I’m not sorry it happened, but I have no idea how to function since.

“Hot. And overwhelming,” I admit. I’ve had about twenty-four hours since Florian dropped me off to start to process what happened between us at Paul and Caden’s wedding. Hookups are no problem. “It’s all fake anyway.”

Noah purses his lips, leaning back in his chair for a long moment. Then he works on his coffee and at last speaks. “Overwhelming in a good way or a bad way?”

I frown slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Was it consensual?”

“Oh! Of course,” I say immediately. “Yes. Very much. It was just intense, that’s all.”

He grins. “Did you feel as overwhelmed when we had sex back in the day?”

“It was different.” I give him a knowing look. “He’s just very… something.”

“Well, talk about it with him for next time. Slow things down a little.”

“I mean, part of it was because we didn’t have much time before checking out. And no need, because it’s never happening again.”

“It’s not?” Noah looks terribly disappointed. “Didn’t you like it?”

“I did. A lot,” I confess. “But it’s all fake. We’re both back to our senses now and our regular lives, and that exact set of circumstances will never happen again. The end. I’ll get over it.”

“Well, have you talked since?”

I shake my head. “I slept yesterday afternoon for a while before I had to go to work. He probably crashed out too. And he’s working daytime like most people do. And I’m working this evening. Besides, there isn’t anything to talk about.”

He rolls his eyes. “Any messages, then?”

“He texted me he had fun and thanks for the invite.”

“Anything else?”

“Um. To let him know about the art lesson.”

Noah lifts his eyebrows. “Art lesson? What art lesson?”

“The art lesson I’m going to give him.” I give him a wry smile. “He knows nothing about art history or practice, so I thought to give him a lesson to help him with future events and to give me a reference for tutoring so I can get more work. Next, we’re supposed to go to a gala.” I start chewing my lip and opt into worrying double-time. What I don’t tell Noah is that there’s no way I can compete with Billy. Not in this lifetime.

Noah’s still back on art lessons. He considers me over his sandwich. “What are you going to teach him?”

“Whatever he wants. I’ll bring an art history book and some supplies and see what happens.”

“I know what’ll happen,” Noah drawls.

“Art will happen,” I say firmly. “That’s it.” Then I go back to feeling nervous about everything and twist my cup in my hands. If I were Noah, I would have heaps of chill.

He smiles. “You know what I think?”