I frown. “Noah? Who’s Noah?” I glance around for that young server she crashed into out in the pavilion. Surely, she can’t be picking that mouse of a man over me.
Lauren, meanwhile, hasn’t said a word. But her face has gone pale, her freckles standing out against her nearly white skin.
“Who’s Noah?” I ask again.
“No one,” she insists, turning back to her task.
Like hell he is. “No one” wouldn’t make her lose all color. Or make me wonder if she’s suddenly forgotten how to breathe.
“If there’s another man, you only had to say so,” I grumble. “I have no interest in another man’s woman.” I realize as soon as the words have left my mouth that it’s not entirely true. I’m certainly still interested in Lauren—but how much? Enough to willingly entangle myself in such a complicated situation?
She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she says, “I think you should go now.”
I should—both because she’s