#Chapter 133: Under the Covers
Hannah & Noah
Hannah’s POV
My leg tensed instinctively 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 and that it would only make things more complicated, I slowly extended my leg. Noah grabbed my ankle almost impatiently yet with a surprising amount of gentleness and pulled it the rest of the way, setting it on top of his thigh.
The tips of my ears instantly turned red. Whether Noah noticed or not, I wasn’t sure; but he certainly must have noticed when his fingers slowly began working the soft flesh of my calf, considering the fact that my face flushed the deepest crimson known to man.
For a few moments that felt like an eternity, the room was mostly silent—save for the soft sound of music still playing on the record player. My throat bobbed as I swallowed hard and looked away, averting my gaze to the floor, the curtains, the empty champagne flutes scattered

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