Getting Lucky (A Lucky Novella) Read Online Free Page A

before I had devoured every last bite on my plate and moved on to Noah’s.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked as he pulled his banana nut pancakes out of my reach. Shock washed over my face as my fork dangled over the table in midair.
    “I just wanted a little taste,” I said as I puckered my lips into what I hoped was a charmingly pathetic pout.
    Noah gave a half smile and pushed his plate back in my direction ever so slightly. While it wasn’t ideally located, at least it was back within my grasp. I managed to have two bites before Noah folded the remaining pancake over, opened his mouth as wide as it would go and placed it inside, syrup dripping down his chin and all.
    It was just as well really, since my speed eating had begun to catch up with me already. Any more of the sweet fluffy goodness and I probably wouldn’t have been able to move. As it was, I was struggling to stay upright. Nothing sounded better after a satisfying meal than a nice long nap and right then, I wasn’t feeling too picky. The booth would have done just fine.
    “You alright there?” Noah asked, grinning as he took notice of my glazed over eyes and contented expression.
    “Ohhhh yeahhh,” I sighed as I leaned my head onto his shoulder.
    “You don’t plan on falling asleep here do you?” he asked. I could tell by his tone that he was on the verge of laughing at me, but I didn’t care.
    “Maybe,” I said.
    Noah nodded and leaned back to get more comfortable.
    “Oh, good. I was afraid you’d want to continue our earlier conversation. I was already prepared to hear you call me everything short of a male prostitute, but if you’re too tired that’s fine. Better actually.”
    I had totally forgotten. I mean, I was certain it would have crept back into my conscience sooner or later, but between the French toast and pancakes and the incredible sugar high I was sailing at the time, all memories of conversations regarding commitment issues and promiscuity had been pushed aside for far more pleasant insights; like the brilliance of making breakfast with chocolate cake batter and dowsing it in sweet strawberry syrup and powdered sugar.
    Reluctantly, I sat back up in my seat and broke contact between my face and Noah’s surprisingly comfy shoulder.
    “Alright, let’s just get this done and over with. You had your say, now I guess I have to have mine.”
    “Not necessarily,” said Noah.
    “How do you figure?”
    Noah reached his arm around my waist and pulled me over close beside him and said, “Well, are you actually going to say anything I haven’t already heard from you a thousand times over?”
    I thought about it for a second. The man had a point. While his declaration regarding my inability to commit had been a first, I had certainly taken shots at his infidelity more times than I could remember over the years. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I began to remember, and inevitably I had to start to wonder if I hadn’t had a really valid point the entire time. I mean, hadn’t I made the argument a million times against getting involved with Noah? And hadn’t he all but verbally agreed with me every single time? What the hell was I doing?
    As if he could read the words scrolling across my eye balls, he leaned in and whispered, “Stop. You look like you’re on the verge of making up a fake gay boyfriend again.”
    I looked up at him, gnawing at my lower lip as I analyzed the situation and silently made my case against myself. It was no use. Noah was going to have to come to his own defense and be the tiebreaker.
    “I’m sorry. I’m on the brink of totally spazzing…I think the real question is, are you going to say anything that I haven’t already heard you say a thousand times over…to a thousand other girls?”
    Noah exhaled loudly and followed it up with the longest ‘pause for effect’ in the history of conversations before he finally said, “The truth is, it doesn’t matter what I say to