I nod in admission.
Brady nods back, yanks me to him and kisses my hair, stealing the other half of my blanket as he straightens.
Chase files over next, and I lift my hand to wave, but he does what I don’t expect, leaning over for a hug. So I hug him back as I have a hundred times before, only it feels the furthest thing from normal.
It aches.
I don’t know if it’s his way of keeping up appearances, but the way his grip tightens on me, and how his palms widen across my back, makes it feels like a plea, but I couldn’t tell you for what if I tried.
When he pulls back, I quickly turn to glance over my shoulder at Cameron as an excuse to hide the unease in my eyes before he has a chance to look into them.
“You need help?” I offer, ready to jump from my seat.
Everyone laughs, and I frown.
“Ha freaking ha, I am not useless.” I shove Mason, and he only laughs more.
“No, honey cakes, you’re not,” Cameron placates me teasingly. “But I cooked the last two weeks, so it’s officially their turn.”
And cue more guilt.
From there, thank god, the boys get straight to work, cutting produce they brought and frying burgers, and Brady delivers on his mom’s famous homemade garlic fries. Cam and I pull some plates and drinks out as they’re finishing up.
We settle around the small kitchen, and I finally get to hear some of the stories the boys have from their first couple months here, laughing at Brady’s horrible luck in picking up bat-shit crazy women. We play a few games of our favorite dice game, Tizy, next, and then settle into the living room with root beer floats.
A soft sigh leaves me as I peek around the room, realizing how much I miss this, how much I miss them.
I gasp when something cold hits my thigh and Brady’s eyes widen.
“Shit!” He looks to his tipped over drink, still spilling into my lap.
I wave my hands up and down and the others laugh. “It’s so cold!”
They scurry around for napkins, but it’s Chase that lifts one, and as he passes it over, he does a double take.
My muscles lock as his frown slowly builds.
Cameron swoops in, tossing a towel at me, and I jump, making quick work of wiping it with one hand and yanking the still extended napkin from Chase’s hand… all to have it torn away by Cameron.
She zeros in on Noah’s name and number, her head snapping my way.
Please don’t.
“Yes.” She drags out the word with a hiss, being over dramatic as she eases it to the floor beside her. “Let’s not lose this.”
It takes all I’ve got not to glance at Chase, but when I finally do, I’m relieved to find his eyes pointed at the TV, and then I get annoyed with myself for assuming he might care.
Not five minutes after that, I’m painstakingly reminded why I’ve skipped Sunday dinners and everything else for that matter as Mason starts talking to Chase about the girls from their party last night… and their walk of shame this morning.
My stomach turns, and for the first time today, last night’s alcohol threatens to show itself. Heat builds in my chest, spreading up my neck, and I’m about to start sweating.
I want to cover my ears. I want to get up and run out before anything else is said, but I can’t. The others will look at me like I’m mad, and then they’ll get mad and demand a reason for my freak out, but I can’t sit here. I don’t want to sit here.
I—
My phone beeps then, and I hastily pick it up, finding a text from Noah.
* * *
Romeo: I’ve been thinking and there’s something I should tell you.
* * *
Oh no.
I pull my knees up, a small scowl building along my brow.
* * *
Me: go for it.
* * *
His response is instant.
* * *
Romeo: I hate caramel flavored coffee.
* * *
A laugh spurts from me, and in my peripheral, all eyes snap my way, but I don’t look up, not even when a certain pair of green ones burn into the side of my face.
I settle in my seat with a smile and text my new friend back.
Bless you and your perfect timing, Noah Riley.
Chapter 15
Arianna
* * *
My phone beeps, the timer for my mile going off, so I slow my strides.
As soon as I pull my earbuds from my ear, my phone vibrates, so I free from my armband.
I smile at my screen and open Noah’s text.
* * *
Romeo: I had eggs for breakfast.
* * *
My feet come to a complete stop, and I grin as I message him back.
* * *
Me: Billy Ray Cyrus Achy Breaky Heart.
* * *
Romeo: Really?! How do you even know who he is?
* * *
He’s totally smiling right now.
Before I can respond, another text comes through.
* * *
Romeo: It’s from Hannah Montana, isn’t it? You were one of those crazy girls who cried when little Miley grew up to be…my kinda Miley.
* * *
He sends a little winky face, and I bust up laughing, partly because he’s right, mostly because this conversation is ridiculous, but that’s exactly why it’s so much fun.
* * *
Me: Liar. Miley’s too wild for you and you know it. I feel like you’re more of an Emma Watson kind of guy.
* * *
Romeo: You sure?
* * *
I suck my stomach in, a small cackle slipping from me.
* * *
Me: No, I guess I’m not... but I still win. Again.
* * *
Romeo: I’ll stump you, Juliet. Just wait.
* * *
I grin, locking my phone back in place, and finish off the rest of my lap since I couldn’t manage to trim anytime off my mile like Mason challenged me to.
Monday morning, when I woke up, Noah had texted me saying the coach gave Mase a shout out after the team’s film session that morning. I texted him back Sage the Gemini—Good Thing.
His response was a bright smile, I know it.
That night, I got another message, claiming he saw something odd at the grocery store—peanut butter flavored Oreos. I sent back the link to KC and JoJo’s Tell me it’s real.
Ever since then, it’s been a game between the two of us. He hits me with something random, and I prove Trey’s words right. I am, in fact, equipped with a jukebox. Like I said, it’s fun, lighthearted and I’m pretty sure the sole purpose is to simply make each other laugh in case one of us needs it. It’s not the only time we talk. Like this morning, I sent him a picture of my shoes after I mindlessly walked into a mud puddle, a broken sprinkler left behind, and he sent back a photo of the notes he was taking in class.
No big deal, just us chatting a bit like new friends will.
Wiping my brow, I step off the track and head for the girl’s locker room for a quick shower before meeting Brady for my promised study session.
I’m dressed back in my jean shorts and burgundy long-sleeve and headed for the library, not fifteen minutes later, braiding my hair along the way.
I spot Brady’s behemoth body the second I walk in the door, and quickly tie off my hair as I rush over to save the poor student helper who has no idea what she’s in for if I don’t rescue her. Her rigid stance and the way she’s clutching those books to her chest tells me she’s not ready for all the Lancaster charm, but the wide sparkle in her eyes scream she wishes she were.
He sees it, which is why he’s inching his way closer, towering over her small frame.
Big dummy.
I step up and slap my hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch in the slightest, doesn’t even look back at me. “Welcome to the party, Ari Baby.”
The poor girl’s eyes shoot even wider, and she drops her gaze to the stai
ned carpet beneath her feet.
“Come on, big guy.” I laugh. “Time to study.”
“I’m tryin’ to study.” His body sways slightly, trying to hit every nerve with his little innuendo. I can only guess his grin has turned feral, because when the girl peeks up at him, her fair cheeks turn a bright cherry red.
“I should go,” the girl whispers and sidesteps out of Brady’s cage before darting away, disappearing behind the closest bookshelf.
Brady stands tall, exhaling loudly. “Almost had her.”
I laugh and shove him toward the open tables. “No, you didn’t.”
He grins but doesn’t argue.
We drop into the seats, and Brady pulls out two water bottles and four ham and cheese Lunchables, setting them on the table between us.
I laugh, quick to open a pack and stack my first bite. “Always coming in clutch.”
“You know I got you.” He winks, digging in.
We get lost in the world of psychology and before we know it, it’s late in the evening. The library is quickly filling up with a whole new breed of human, the obnoxious procrastinators, and those forced here for after-hours tutoring.
I slump against my chair, and Brady mimics my position.
“My brain is done, Brady.” I drop my head onto his shoulder, and he rests his on top of mine.
“Right back atcha.” He tosses his pencil on the table. “Wanna eat?”
I laugh because with Brady, it’s either football, food, or, well, sex. I nod. “I could eat.”
“Cool.” He gently nudges me off and stands, shoving his books back in his backpack. “Let’s meet the boys at the burger place off campus.”
I must hesitate too long because he stops mid-pack and stands to his tallest height. His earthy green eyes narrow in on me. “Don’t give me no lip. You’re coming.”
I huff and shift to stand. “Can’t you just come to my house?”
“Don’t want to.”
“We could go to that pizza place down the road?”
“Fine. I’ll see if they want to go there.”
“Brady…” I drop my eyes to my bag.
He sighs and walks around my chair, enveloping me in his one-of-a-kind, big bear hug. “Not gonna lie, you’re pissing me off a bit here, Ari Baby. But I got eyes, I know some shit went down with you and Chase and you’re trying to steer clear, but that ain’t fair to the rest of us. We’re your boys, you’re our girl. Suck it the fuck up or I’ll end up laying out my best friend.”
A sorrowful laugh slips from me. “I don’t want to make it awkward for anyone and it’s kind of… hard for me.”
Brady tenses slightly. “I know.” He drops closer to my ear to whisper, “Good thing you’ve got that game face down, huh… need you to put it on for me right quick.”
I pull back, as he does, and frown up at him.
He gives a subtle nod before his attention lifts over my head.
“Wud up, pussies! Come to scope the scene?” He grins. “’Cause if you did, I got dibs on the shy little redhead over there.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder.
Great.
My heart rate spikes and I take in a shallow breath as the boys walk around the table, making themselves seen.
“Sister.” Mason’s smile falters the longer he looks at me, but I force one for his benefit.
“Brother.”
His eyes thin the slightest bit. “We’re going to get some food, thought maybe you guys were ‘bout done.” Mason looks to my half-packed bag. “Seems you are.”
Chase looks to me, but I keep my focus on Mason.
Shit. Think, Ari!
“Oh, well, uh, I—”
“Hey.”
My already accelerated heart goes into overdrive, yet I sigh in relief as my gaze flicks over my brother’s shoulder.
In that second, all three turn to face the man walking up behind them.
My brother grins wide, offering his team captain a fist bump. “Noah, what up?”
Noah meets Mason’s knuckles with his own, tossing a subtle wink my way when my brother says something else I don’t catch.
Noah chuckles. “Nah, man. Just came to get Ari.”
Oooh. Shit.
My pulse is jumping from my skin; it has to be. I’m too scared to look at my brother, so I don’t, locking eyes with Noah instead. His chin lowers, probably unnoticeably where the others are concerned. “Ready?”
“Wait, what?” Brady’s shadow crowds me from behind, and to my right, my brother moves closer.
Noah doesn’t move an inch, keeping his blue eyes on me. “Sorry I’m late, got caught up at the student center.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I keep up. “We barely finished.”
One side of Noah’s mouth lifts into a grin and I fight my own.
“Uh…” Mason drags out, clearing his throat, and I finally face him. He reaches up scratching at his head, his frown flicking between mine and my rescuer’s. They settle on me. “You got plans… with him?”
I start packing my stuff again as a reason to look away, unsure of his reaction and what he’ll do next. There’s honestly no telling.
“Yeah, I do.” Not exactly a lie as of now. “I didn’t know you guys were coming or I wouldn’t have made plans.” That was a definitely a lie.
Brady’s stance widens beside me, and I nearly tear off the zipper on my backpack due to nerves.
“Hold on a damn minute.” Brady, while quite calm, speaks slowly, so I’m not sure how to gauge him either. He looks at me, then Noah.
Noah doesn’t falter, but keeps his eyes strong as steel on Brady’s, respectfully so. Brady swings his puckered brow to me. “Want me to take your bag home?”
My shoulders ease. “I got it, Brady, but thank you.”
“Mm-hm.” He kisses my head and turns to grab his own things.
I think we’re getting off easy, but then a sudden, yet expected question comes from the most unexpected source. “Where are you going?” Chase asks.
Noah stands in silent support, stepping closer to take my bag when I begin to pull it over my shoulder, and with a tense smile, I look to Chase as if the sight of him doesn’t mess with my head.
“We haven’t decided.”
His green eyes narrow. “So why not come with us?”
Instantly, I seek out Noah, for help maybe, and while he doesn’t look away, he gives nothing more than a blank expression. It’s his way of allowing me to make the call and letting me know he’ll be there for whatever I choose, rather than choosing for me.
“Um…”
Noah’s eyes pierce mine.
I don’t know what to do. If I say yes, I might die a little more inside, and Noah did slide over in rescue mode, as if he knew I needed it. But if I say no, how will that look?
Why do I care?
“Ari?” Chase prompts, with a little less bite this time.
Noah must note the indecision in me because his blues become more vibrant with every breath he takes, and his chin rises a fraction of an inch, encouraging me to make a choice. A choice for myself.
Something in me settles.
“No, I don’t think so.” I face Chase.
“Why not?” The guy who pushed me away dares to ask.
“I don’t feel like it.”
His frown deepens. “That’s it, huh?”
Undeserved guilt curls around my muscles, but before I can respond, Mason—my crazy controlling, over-the-top brother, who normally asks these kinds of questions—shuts his best friend down.
“Dude, Chase. Back off her, man.” He scowls at him, flicking his gaze across his form. “She said she don’t wanna go.”
My mouth wants to gape open so hard right now, but I force it to stay closed, watching in… well, I can’t figure out if it’s horror or fascination, as Mason turns to Noah, gives him yet another fist bump.
Um… what?
“Get her home safe so I don’t have to go and get myself kicked off the team?” Mason’s face is
dead serious.
Noah simply says, “Will do.”
Brady chuckles next to me, pulling me into a hug. “Funny how these plans popped out of nowhere, ain’t it, and the dude, too?” he whispers.
“Sorry,” I mumble into his sweater.
Brady hates lies. He’s our voice of reason in his own crazy, horn-dog way, and he pretty much just covered my ass. “Don’t worry about it. Had they asked outright, I’d have told ‘em. Lucky for you, they didn’t, so all’s good.”
I pull back and smile. “See you in class tomorrow.”
“I’ll be the sexy one in the front.” He grins and I smack his shoulder.
With a refreshing inhale and a new sense of ease, I turn to Noah.
He smiles, forcing one from me in return.
“Ready?”
Slowly, he nods.
“Bye guys,” I say but don’t look their way.
I fall in line with Noah, and together, we head for the nearest exit.
“Oh my god, Noah, it smells stupid good,” I say as I step out of the restroom.
I follow the sound of his soft chuckle into the little kitchen nook, right as he pulls a chicken breast off of the small countertop grill and begins slicing it into long strips.
“Where did you learn to cook?” I ask, peeking over his shoulder as he stirs the meat into the bowl of homemade chicken alfredo, he whipped up like nothing and in no time at all.
“My mom.” He smiles. “She had me help her with dinner every night, said I’d need to learn for moments like this.” He tosses me a wink.
“Smart woman.” I smirk, resting my chin on my elbow against the counter.
“Yeah.” He chuckles, but it’s a weighted sound that makes me look from the food to him.
A small frown creases his forehead, but he doesn’t say anything, so I don’t ask what brought them there.
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