Chapter 196: Hannah & Noah

Hannah’s POV

My leg tensed as Noah reached for it, a questioning look in his weary eyes. Frowning, he muttered, “Do you want the massage or not?”

Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I slowly extended my leg. Noah grasped my ankle, almost impatiently yet gently, pulling it onto his thigh. My ears burned. Whether he noticed the flush creeping across my face, I couldn’t be sure, but as his fingers worked the soft flesh of my calf, my blush deepened.

For what felt like an eternity, the only sound was the soft music from the record player. I swallowed hard, averting my gaze to the floor, the curtains, the scattered champagne flutes—anywhere but at him.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “What were you and Drake talking about earlier?” he murmured.

My leg tensed. When I tried to pull away, Noah tightened his grip, giving me a reproachful look.

Sighing, I pushed a curl from my eyes. “Nothing, really. He was just telling me about his failed date with Zoe.” A half-truth.

Noah pursed his lips. “I see. And?”

“He’s giving up. They’re not compatible.”

“Are you two more compatible?”

His words froze me. My eyes remained fixed on the carpet fringe, too terrified to look at him. When I finally did, he was still focused on my calf, his fingers smoothly kneading my sore muscles.

“What are you saying, Noah?”

He shrugged. “It’s clear Drake likes you more than Zoe; perhaps you feel the same.”

“Noah, I—”

“I’m not mad. If you want him, that’s your choice; just wait until we’re divorced,” he muttered, his green eyes meeting mine briefly.

Words failed me.

After a long, tense moment, I looked away, clenching my jaw. “I don’t see Drake that way. You know my plans after the divorce, and he’s not part of them.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

My throat tightened, but I didn’t respond. I wasn’t romantically interested in Drake, but I knew I couldn’t convince Noah. His fingers continued their work, and I leaned back, closing my eyes.

We remained like that for a long time, the only sound the music. Noah’s hands worked skillfully, tracing heated paths up and down my calves and feet. Then, his fingers moved higher, past my knees… and gently pushed the hem of my skirt to reach my thighs.

My eyes snapped open. Flushing again, I saw Noah staring at me.

“Noah…”

He didn’t need to respond. Slowly, his fingers slid beneath my skirt, gently massaging my inner and outer thighs. Despite myself, I squirmed, a wave of heat spreading through my lower body.