“Yeah. It’s not so bad.”
Ian snorted.
“I’ve had worse.” Mia’s voice was steady and sharp, and Ian’s smirk faded. Noah couldn’t help the swell of pride beneath his own ribs as Ian continued, and Mia’s face barely registered the discomfort.
He leaned forward and gave her an encouraging smile. “You’re doing great.”
“Distract me?”
He reached into his pocket for his phone and carefully put an AirPod in her ear, taking the other for himself. He swiped through the songs on his playlist, found what he was looking for, and hit Play.
The moment the first notes of “Chasing Cars” flowed through, a familiar, soft smile tipped her lips. Her dark eyes met his as she listened, and his gaze swept her face, admiring the simple beauty of her. Her jaw relaxed and her eyes softened as the song played, and he just smiled at her, content to sit there and listen with her as long as she wanted.
The song paused for an incoming call and he quickly swiped to ignore it and set his phone to silent. It was just Julia—he’d call her back later.
She listened to a few more and during a break in the songs asked, “What’s next?”
He’d come prepared. “Would you rather.”
“Okay, hit me.” She paused. “But not really, because this guy has a needle on my skin.”
Noah chuckled. “Ready? Would you rather be forced to dance every time you heard music or be forced to sing along to any song you heard?”
“Sing.” She grinned wryly. “I’m such a good dancer I don’t think I’d be able to ward off all the men wanting to take me home.”
Ian kept his head down, but his brow rose with interest, not having caught the dryness in her tone. Mia was a lot of things...a lot of wonderful things...but a good dancer wasn’t one of them. Rhythm wasn’t quite her forte.
“Would you rather travel the world for a year on a tight budget or live in luxury in one country for a year?”
“Travel.”
Ian and Noah both nodded in agreement.
“Would you rather have free caramel lattes or free chicken wings for a year?”
Her eyes widened. “That’s the hardest one you’ve ever asked me. I can’t possibly choose.”
“You have to.”
She groaned. “Fine. Um... I’d have to give up the coffee. There’s no way I could give up wings.”
Ian paused. “A woman who can dance, wants to travel, and loves chicken wings? Are you single?”
The hell?
“Nope,” Noah answered. “Check the rings, man.”
“Sorry, didn’t see one.”
Noah leaned to the side, and sure enough, Mia’s ring finger was bare.
She winced, and he didn’t think it was from the tattoo. “I took it off when I was cooking earlier. I know exactly where it is—”
Ian stopped to wipe her skin with a cloth, and Noah took the opportunity to grab her hand. “It’s fine.”
She sighed and closed her eyes as he traced his thumb back and forth across her hand. He idly wondered how many men had hit on her over the past nine years. The possessiveness coursing through him was alarmingly potent. No man knew her like he did, but it didn’t take much to want her.
One glimpse of that smile, one note of her laugh, and everyone wanted more of her. How many had succeeded? How deeply did they know her? How far into her life had she let them in?