Noah nods and brings his right hand up to cover mine on his chest.
“You know this has nothing to do with you, right?” he stresses. “This is all him and his uncertainties.”
When all I offer is a twitch of my lips, his eyes narrow slightly.
He squares his shoulders. “Trust me, I’d bet he’s just scared and doesn’t know what to do.”
“He doesn’t see me, Noah. Not like I wanted him to.”
“He sees you.” Noah’s steady gaze floats across my face. “How could he not?”
His sweet words have me pushing down an airy feeling in my stomach, but he’s wrong. Thinking that way is what got me into this mess.
“He loves and respects me the way I do Brady, the way Cameron does him, but that’s all.” I shrug. “I get it, but it still sucks, and it’s taking longer than I wish it would to come to terms with that fact.” I reach down, running my hand through the fountain water beside us. “I’ll get over it and hopefully, our friendship will make it once I do. It has to, for my brother and the others. For us too, I guess.”
Noah’s quiet for a few moments before he speaks. “This is why I haven’t seen you at the house.”
Not a question.
I grin at the water, admiring the way the moonlight beams through. “Been looking for me, huh?” I tease, tossing his words from the bonfire back at him.
“Yeah.”
His instant response has my gaze flying to his.
We sit there, staring at one another for a moment, and then suddenly, Noah jumps to his feet.
“Come on, Juliet.” He holds his sturdy hand out. “Let’s get you home. You mixed whiskey and beer tonight. Your head’ll be killing you come morning.”
I groan and allow him to pull me to my feet. Noah insists on walking me all the way to my door, so I ignore the nosy rosies in the halls as we pass.
Love how it’s totally normal to be up at three in the morning in college.
“You’ll be all right tonight?” He leans against the frame as I unlock the door.
I grin, slipping in and using the door as leverage. “I’ll be fine.”
A small frown slips over his face, but he nods.
“I really needed tonight. Thank you for… you know, all of it.” I glance away, heat sneaking up my cheeks. I can’t believe I unloaded all my problems, but Noah erases the unease swimming in my stomach.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He stares at me a moment, his low exhale following not long after, and he takes a step back. “Do me a favor and drink some water before bed tonight.”
My head falls to the frame. “How is that doing you a favor?”
He cocks his head the slightest bit, making me smile.
“I will, swear.”
Satisfied, he backs away. “Night, Juliet.”
I lift my hand, and once I close the door behind me, I only have a single thought.
I wasn’t ready for him to go just yet.
Chapter 14
Arianna
* * *
It’s ten to ten when there’s a knock at the door. Several seconds of groaning into my blankets pass, but Cameron’s feet never stomp along the linoleum floor, and then I remember she poked her head in earlier to tell me she was leaving.
A second knock sounds and I flop onto my back, huffing at the ceiling, slowly pulling myself to my feet.
“Com—” I try to speak, but my voice is a croaky mess, so I clear my throat and try again. “Coming,” I yawn mid-word, using all the muscles that are working right now to unlock and open the door.
My eyes widen, my body freezing, and autopilot has me slamming the thing closed as soon as I’ve opened it.
A deep chuckle echoes through from the other side, and I lightly bang my forehead against the cheap wood.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I whisper.
“Come on, Juliet. Open up.” Humor is clear in his tone. “I’ve already seen you now.”
I groan, shifting slightly to look in the mirror beside the door. I lick my fingers and rub beneath my eyes, attempting to rid myself of some of the black eyeliner that made its way down my face and smooth the Alfalfa-esque hair down that’s sticking up all over the place.
Taking a deep breath, I shake the sleeves of the hoodie I stole from Mason, until it’s swallowed my hands, and bring it up to my mouth.
I pull the door open, and I’m met with a big, bright morning smile, the kind that demands one in return, despite the horror and embarrassment of my appearance.
“Morning, sunshine.”
My eyes narrow playfully and I take a step back, welcoming him inside. “Good morning, Noah.” I close the door and lean against it, crossing my arms over my braless chest.
I watch wordlessly as he takes the few steps toward the kitchen, setting a drink holder ,of what I assume are coffees, and a café bag on the bar-like countertop. Noah pulls a water bottle from the pocket of his hoodie, twists off the cap and sets it down beside the other items. His hand slips into the front pocket of his jeans next, sliding right back out with a small bottle of Excedrin, and finally, my tired, hungover mind catches on.
Noah didn’t only come here to check on me; he came to take care of me.
It’s clear he’s been up for a while. He’s bright-eyed and fresh in a pair of jeans, a lightweight gray hoodie similar to the one I’m wearing, and his dark hair is swiped to the right, like he ran a quick hand through it and called it a day.
He turns to me, his face all-business.
“Here.” He lifts his closed fist, holding my gaze with his.
I suppress a grin as I push off the door and meet him where he stands, opening my hand as requested.
He pushes my sweatshirt back with the inner part of his middle finger and my eyes drop to the contact, confused when the exposed skin of my wrist prickles. Noah sets the pills in my palm, quickly passing me the water bottle.
Water in one hand, pills in the other, my eyes lift to his.
A soft smile forms along his lips as if in answer to the question I didn’t have to ask.
“I wanted to make sure you were all right. Cam showed up at the house about an hour ago and said you were still in bed,” he tells me.
My face transforms into a frown before I can stop it, let alone process the reason why, and Noah laughs.
“I didn’t decide to come after I heard.” He grins. “I was already planning on coming here before I spotted her.”
I squish my lips to the right, fighting the blush threatening to spread.
Noah sees it, the heat rising along my neck, but he’s a gentleman about it and turns away, leaving me to my awkwardness.
Why would it matter if he only came because Cam likely made it sound like I died and came back a zombie? I wasn’t that drunk, and it’s not like I expected him to show at all. Why would he?
I squeeze my eyes shut and give myself a mental shake before dropping the pills in my mouth and finishing off half the water bottle.
“So.” Noah speaks with his back to me. “I got plain coffees to play it safe, figuring if you were a coffee girl, you’d have creamer already, and a couple breakfast sandwiches.”
I walk around him and pull out both Cam’s caramel creamer and my thin mint one, placing them on the counter in front of him.
He looks at the bottles, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I think caramel’s too basic for you.”
“I don’t know… I am kind of basic,” I tease.
“I disagree.” He smirks, removing the lids and adding one creamer to each until the paper cups are full and then places them both in front of me. “Prove me wrong.”
I lift a brow, grabbing the caramel one as he eyes me, and then I set it in front of him, our laughter following.
A satisfied grin pulls at his lips as he pulls the sandwiches from the bag. “Ham or sausage?”
I scrunch my nose and his face falls.
“You don’t like either?” he nearly pouts, and my smile is instant.
“I like both, and I’m dying to drink this coffee, but… mind if I shower?” Maybe, I don’t know… put some pants on?”
He frowns, his attention immediately dropping to my bare legs, and then his dark brows jump. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He spins on his heels, running a hand over the hair at the base of his skull.
I laugh. “I’ll be quick if you want to find something to watch. Unless you can’t stay, of course, then thank you for—”
His glances over his shoulder. “I can stay.”
“Okay, then.” I grin, grab my coffee and lift it. “Thank you, Noah. Seriously.”
He nods as I make my way into my room to grab my things. It’s times like this I appreciate the private bathroom Cam and I were blessed enough to get.
In the shower, I think about Noah being here, as well as how Mason would murder the man if he knew. Actually, maybe it’s me who he’d murder for allowing Noah in like nothing, but I don’t know. He lives in the same house as my brother, plays on the same team, and so far, no one has had a bad word to say about the guy. Mase would have never left me on the beach with Noah that day if he didn’t trust him in some manner, let alone invite him to the bonfire that day, so it doesn’t feel like a bad move.
Plus, I had a lot of fun last night. Having someone to talk to outside of my normal group was refreshing in a way I’ve never experienced.
I love talking to Cam and I’d trust her with all things in my world, but I had a fresh mind with a fresh outlook and I think it was exactly what I needed. While it seemed to bother him that I was upset, he wasn’t wounded by the situation as me, Chase, and Cameron were, or as Brady or Mason would be if they knew. It’s different, and I love that.
We didn’t sit around the entire time working to wash away or prevent awkwardness. It was fun and stress-free. It was easy.
Noah being here now, though, I one thousand percent did not expect. It was easy to see he was being genuine last night, that he honestly wanted to hear what I had to say, but I didn’t exactly think past that conversation.
Now I can’t help but wonder if Noah could use a new friend as much as I need one.
Hurrying out of the shower, I throw on my favorite ‘death before decaf’ T-shirt and a pair of leggings. I run a comb through my long dark hair, brush my teeth, then grab my coffee and step out of the bathroom, wet-haired and fresh-faced.
Noah’s on the couch, as I expected, so I fall into the space beside him. He grins my way, passing me the ham breakfast sandwich and remote as he takes a bite of his own breakfast.
I look up at the TV as the commercial ends to find he’s about twenty minutes into the movie Grown Ups, so I toss the controller to the side and settle in to watch with him.
Once I’m done eating, I cradle my coffee in my palms, folding my legs up on the couch.
“Thank you, Noah,” I tell him again, peering at him over the rim of my cup when he looks my way. “For last night and today. For right now. I’ve locked myself away a lot lately, so it’s really nice to have you here.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.” Noah twists to face me. “I came because I wanted to.”
I let my head drop onto the cushion, smiling up at him. “Well, thank you anyway.”
A small shadow falls over his eyes, but he nods.
“I was too busy being a baby last night, I didn’t get to tell you, but you play like a boss.”
That brings a wide smile back to his face, but he turns away, shielding it from me.
“I’m serious. Your very first throw the first game and that quarterback keeper? So smooth.” I chuckle when he shakes his head, still not looking at me. “And last night, that Flea Flicker was genius. I feel like a jerk because I totally spaced on you being the main man until I saw you last night and remembered. You’re a badass, number nineteen.”
Noah’s mouth is still upturned, but he stays facing forward, only moving his eyes my way as he attempts to downplay his skill set. “Last night’s game was a tough one, but we did it. As a team.”
I pull my lips in to bite back my grin.
He’s so different from my brother and the boys. Mason would have said something along the lines of ‘hell yeah I’m a badass’ or added to the plays I listed, but I guess that’s not Noah’s style. He’s humble, and that’s rare, considering his position. For any athlete playing at this level, really.
He almost has this tortured soul vibe going on, but not the kind that makes you bitter or cruel. The kind that stems from loss and let downs, where you’re almost afraid to want because the universe might decide the jokes on you, and down another tor you tumble.
“Mason’s been killing it at practice,” he shares then, shifting the attention from himself. “He’s going to do really well if he keeps it up.”
I study his features, find not a hint of insincerity. He truly believes what he’s saying, and he speaks with no malice or jealousy, no threat or fear that he’ll lose his spot to the rookie superstar. And my brother is a superstar.
“You want him to do well.” I meant it as a statement, but the awe of the situation seeps into my tone, and it sounds like a question.
Noah’s head tugs back a little, taken off guard, and I almost worry I’ve offended him, but his chuckle soon follows, my muscles easing as a result.
“Hell yeah, I do.” He nods. “Mason’s got it. He’s good. Great even. We needed him tonight and he delivered better than expected, if I’m being honest. When I took that last hit, I had to step out. Their defense had my timing and footwork clocked by the fourth quarter. When that happens and we’ve got a solid second, it’s a no-brainer to make the swap. Mason went out there and shook ‘em up with ease.” He laughs, and, for some reason, the boyish sound makes me grin. “No one expected the rookie QB to come in there and raise hell, but he did. Showed ‘em up too.” He smiles, finally turning toward me.
I like his smile. It’s a pinch higher on the left, revealing a sliver of his white teeth. The hint of stubble along his jaw wasn’t there last night, and allows for a nice little shadow, helping his smile burn brighter, also making his eyes appear more aqua than midnight ocean waves.
“He’d be happy to hear that, but if you tell him, he’ll get an even bigger head,” I joke, and while Noah’s lips twitch, his features smooth.
After a moment, he nods, opening his mouth to speak, but he then he faces forward and clears his throat.
“I have to get going.” He pushes to his feet, looking over at me. “Sundays are a little busy for me.”
I nod.
What’s on Sundays?
Noah stands there a second longer and then gathers our garbage, heading toward the kitchen, but I stay where I am, watching.
It’s so strange he’s here in my space.
Not as strange as how it feels as natural as it does with the boys.
Noah reaches the door, pulls it open, and pins me with a smirk over his shoulder. “I put my number on a napkin and stuck it on the fridge. If you text me your number, maybe next time, I’ll call ahead.” With that, he winks and walks out.
Smiling, I push to my feet and grab said napkin. I make my way back to the couch, phone in hand, and I type out a text while hoping he doesn’t think my musical crackhead syndrome is too much. He said maybe he’d call next time so…
* * *
Me: here’s my number in case you want to, you know, call me ... maybe.
* * *
I grin at my lyric of choice and wait for his reply.
* * *
Romeo: hahaha. Wanna know a secret?
* * *
Of course, I wanna know!
I respond a little more subtle.
* * *
Me: it’s not a secret if you tell me.
* * *
Romeo: I knew you were going to send me something about a song.
* * *
My brows pull in.
* * *
Romeo: Don�
��t frown.
* * *
What the…
I bite my lip and type out my next message.
* * *
Me: how?
* * *
Romeo: Well, Juliet, it won’t be a secret if I tell you.
* * *
Damn. I grin.
He’s good.
Noah leaves me in such a good mood this afternoon that I completely forget what Sundays are about for my crew, and a couple hours later, while I’m still sitting in the spot Noah left me, the door to my dorm opens.
My lungs seize as Cameron steps in, Mason and Brady right behind her. The door begins to close, and I grab the blanket, covering my lap tighter as it grows closer and closer to the frame, but the second it touches, it’s shoved back open again.
Chase steps inside, his eyes instantly finding mine.
Shit.
Considering they found me lounging with a pile of blankets and a half-eaten box of pin wheels, tossing out a random excuse was a no-go, which is why I’m now sandwiched between Mason and Brady, who just dropped onto my living room couch, pretending I planned to be here all along.
Mason wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me to him with a playful growl. “Miss you, sister. Feel like I see less and less of you. It bites.”
A sharp pain knocks against my rib cage and I look to my brother, guilt heavy in my mind, but a smile on my lips. “Me too, brother.” I hug him, shoving him away when he bites at my scalp.
“What the hell?” I laugh, and he smirks, snagging the remote from my lap and switching over to ESPN. Of course.
“How’s that study group going?” Brady calls, and I look his way. His gaze is narrowed, aware I’m a big fat liar, so I do the one thing he’s asking for.
Say You Swear Page 13