Shatterproof (2 page)

About Shatterproof
 
  
About the Authors
 
  
Other Books by Yvonne Collins & Sandy Rideout
 
  
Excerpts from Other Novels by Yvonne Collins & Sandy Rideout

Excerpt: Speechless
 
  
Excerpt: Torch
 
  
Excerpt: Trade Secrets
 
  
Excerpt: Love, Inc.
 
  
Excerpt: Girl v. Boy
 
  
Excerpt: The Black Sheep

 pull up in front of Tease on Yorkville Avenue, climb out of my silver Lexus, and drop the keys into the outstretched hand of the valet. This club isn’t the type of place Noah would normally choose for dinner, but he said it’s been getting great reviews.

More specifically, he said Tease is known for its steak, which is a definite selling point. I used to be a vegetarian, but the challenge of finding healthy food in hotels and airports eventually wore me down and I started eating beast. It was another year before I could admit I enjoyed life as a carnivore. Now, I let Noah carve his initials into my heart with a steak knife on a regular basis.

He’s waiting for me just inside the entrance. “You could have let me pick you up,” he says, helping me with my coat.

“The car needed a run,” I say. “Besides, I didn’t want to miss the thrill of noticing this hot guy and then realizing he’s mine.”

After six years together, that thrill is still there. Whenever I catch sight of my tall, athletic boyfriend, whose attractive packaging conceals a proud nerd, primitive hormones kick in a few seconds before my brain reminds me we’re a couple. I like that feeling, and it’s one of the reasons I’ve resisted moving in together. Familiarity might take the fizz out of the champagne.

Another reason is that Noah’s house is a complete and utter dump, stuffed with relics from his childhood, and his parents’ old furniture. We could share my condo, but he claims it feels like an unlived-in model suite. I like the view of the lake, and the fact that I can close the door without worrying when I travel for business. Besides, it would be tougher to leave if it actually felt like a home, rather than someplace I crash when I’m in Toronto.

Anyway, when the subject of living together comes up, I remind Noah that living apart keeps things fresh. Part of him must agree since he doesn’t pressure me. Much.

Dropping a kiss on the back of my neck, Noah says, “El, you look fantastic.”

“I made an effort,” I say. “For Valentine’s Day.”

It’s actually only February 12th, but Noah suggested celebrating early and it seemed like a good idea. With big changes coming at work this week, I can’t imagine feeling the romance on Tuesday night.

“Well, I appreciate it,” he says, sliding my cashmere cardigan off my shoulders. “You don’t need this, do you?”

Underneath, I’m wearing an emerald green halter that I had no intention of exposing until much later in the evening. “It’s freezing,” I say. “I need it.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”  He gives me a suggestive grin as he hands both my sweater and coat to the guy at the coat check.

“You can try,” I say. Catching my reflection in the mirrored walls, I straighten up. I look like I spend my life hunched over a laptop. My arms are flaccid, and my skin has a milky pallor that proves it never gets much exposure to sun.