Noah sent it right back.
It’s Wednesday, we’re about done with the first meal, so I sneak away to the bathroom, and stuff forty bucks into the front zipper of his backpack. I’m back in the kitchen before he has a moment to get suspicious.
Noah lifts the spoon to his mouth, where my attention is stuck as he blows on the hot mixture. Once satisfied it won’t burn my mouth, he brings the spoonful toward me. “Taste this.”
His eyes, they’re so unlike a shade of blue I’ve seen before. So mythical and bright, yet stormy, like what you’d expect the find on the god of the sea. A little lost and lonely maybe. A hint of wild. It’s intriguing, the color. Or maybe it’s the emotion I can read within them.
How can I read the emotion within them?
“Juliet?”
I blink, dropping my pinched gaze to the spoon.
“Sorry,” I mumble, closing my lips around it.
The savory glaze concocted of homemade chili with cranberry hits my tastebuds, the explosiveness of the flavors pulling a satisfactory moan from me.
“So good.” I leave the sauce to sit on my tongue a moment. “You know, if the whole going pro thing doesn’t work out for you, you could totally be a chef.”
I hadn’t realized I closed my eyes, and when I look to Noah, he tears his from my mouth.
He quickly turns to the sink, dropping the spoon inside. “You think it’s good like that or does it need more crushed red peppers?”
When I don’t respond, he looks over, meeting my frown.
“The little pepper flakes…”
“...like pizza peppers?”
He grins and turns to lean his tailbone against the small countertop. “Were you paying attention when we put in the spices?”
To the food? No. To the focus and peacefulness that takes you over when you cook? Yes. Yes, I was.
“No?”
He laughs, playfully hitting me with the dishtowel.
I pop a shoulder. “I figured my job was to hand you stuff and give you honest opinions on taste.”
“Uh-huh, and how are you supposed to make it on your own if you do that?” he teases.
“Okay, wow. If I gave you the impression that would be a possibility, I am so sorry.” I grin, a laugh slipping through. “Basically, I’m going to need you and your black jacket worthy skills to survive away from home.”
I expected him to laugh or joke back, but he doesn’t.
Noah’s gaze floats across my face, and he gives a nearly undetectable nod. “I think that could work out.”
I don’t know, why but heat slowly spreads up my neck.
He sees it and rather than turning around and pretending he hasn’t, he follows the warmth past my collarbone. I should look away, but I don’t want to. I want to watch him watch me. When his midnight eyes land on mine, something low in my gut twists. It tangles and pulls and I whip around to face the counter. I move the bag with the chili ingredients in it to the side, setting the one full of stuff to make pot pie in its place.
My limbs are heavy, fuzzy, but I breathe through it, swallowing beyond the knot in my throat.
“I swear to god, Noah, if this pot pie tastes good, there will be no freezing of anything. I’ll be eating it all tonight, no joke.”
Noah’s laugh is low and sultry.
Or I’m losing my mind and need to get a grip, I can’t be sure.
He takes the hot pot of chili to the tiny table covered in potholders, setting it down beside the tray of meatballs. “We’re not making one big one. We can’t freeze it like that. We have to make a few small ones.”
“K, let’s do that… but also make a big one we can eat tonight?” I smile like a psycho, showing all my teeth. “We can veg out until my leggings are too tight.”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “You want to hang tonight?”
My eyes bulge. “Oh my gosh! I… totally invited myself to stay.” I avert my gaze. “Ignore me, keep going. What do I do next? Set the oven temp, right? That’s step one?”
“Juliet.”
My muscles tense the slightest bit. “Yeah?” I line up the ingredients, no clue what order they should be in, or if it even matters.
“You’re my only plans,” he shares.
I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly nervous.
Noah senses it, chuckling as he comes to stand beside me, calling my gaze to his. He lifts his hand, as if he was about to reach out and touch me but decides better of it, quickly lowering it to the bag beside us. His eyes, though, they stay on mine. “You wanna stay, veg until your leggings are too tight and I’ve gotta loan you a pair of sweats?” His mouth hooks higher. “Watch a movie with me?”
“Yeah.” My brows pull. “I do.”
He nods several times before blowing out a breath and turning to the sink to rinse the chicken. Who knew that was a thing?
The pot pies take the longest out of all the meals we made today, if you count the baking time. Once the big one is ready to be cut into, Noah grabs plates, but I put them back, stuff two forks into my hoodie pocket, and carry the entire pie into the living room.
We eat straight out of the throwaway tinfoil tray, watching Bad Boys For Life in comfortable silence.
At some point during the movie, I shift closer to Noah. My shoulder is now pressed to his, my bent knees resting against his thick, football player thighs.
When I tuck my hands into my lap, he reaches behind us, grabbing a blanket. He drapes it over my legs without a word, leaving his arm to rest along the back of the couch.
I sink in a little more as he settles into the cushions.
When a low sigh escapes him, my mind begins to wander.
I watched him closely tonight. The peaceful look on his face, the ease of his movements, it’s so obvious he’s at home when cooking, as if it’s second nature for him. It reminded me of being at home, watching my parents in the kitchen.
He kind of reminds me of home.
And that… is kind of scary.
Chapter 18
Arianna
* * *
Putting the car in park, Noah turns off the engine and looks at me. “You mean to tell me you’ve never had sushi?”
“I have never had sushi,” I admit, picking my bag up off the floorboard.
He drops back against the seat. “How is that possible?”
“It’s always grossed me out.” I shrug. “I like catfish.”
“Cooked catfish, I assume?”
“You assume correct. There’s this little place my grandparents used to take us to called The Catfish House; we’d go, eat fried catfish, okra, and hush puppies. It was out in the country in a little town on the way to the bay. But sushi?” My nose pinches, and I shudder. “Heck no.”
“I’m gonna make you some, change your mind.”
“No way!” I pretend to gag. “Homemade sounds so much worse.”
“Trust me, Juliet.”
I sigh, playfully, a single thought running through my mind as I stare at him, and that is, man, is he easy on the eyes.
A small smirk tips his full lips, and he steps out, so I follow, and as usual, he walks me all the way to my dorm room.
At the door, I turn to face him. “Just to be clear, I should get my game face on, ready to try some sushi soon?”
He smiles wide, glancing down the hall.
A short piece of hair falls over his forehead as he does, and before I realize what I’m doing, my hand is brushing it back into place.
Noah doesn’t tell me no, he doesn’t reach out halting my hand, warning me that I shouldn’t touch him. Not even as it lowers from his thick, dark hair, but instead allowing fingertips to test the feeling of his skin from his temple to his jaw.
My eyes lift to meet his, and then the door behind me is ripped open. Laughter flows from the room, but cuts to silence in the same second.
My hand flies down, and I whip around, coming face to face with a wide-eyed, glued in motion, Cameron. Brady’s at her back with a frow
n in place.
“Uh, hi,” I offer lamely, my face growing hot, even more so when I peek into the place, spotting Mason and Chase inside. Both slowly rise from their place on the couch, matching glares on their faces, and I quickly look back to Cam.
Cam’s smirk slowly slips into place, and she crosses her arms. “Well, hell to the oh.”
I snap my attention to Brady, too nervous to allow it anywhere else.
Come on, Brady. Help me out.
His features twitch the slightest bit, but he eases up, offering Noah a small grin. “Perfect timing. FunWorks is closing the bumper boats for the season this weekend, so we’re going to get a round in. Looks like you guys are free to join us.”
I glance at Noah over my shoulder, and his eyes snap from where they’re pointed across the room to mine and I don’t have to guess to know what—or more who—he was looking at. His expression holds so many questions right then, but he says not a word, waiting to see what leaves my lips instead.
Do I want to go with my friends to ride the bumper boats? Sure. We used to do that kind of stuff all the time, but do I want to be on edge and anxious all evening? Not even a little bit.
I had such a good-ass day. I deserved a good day and won’t allow anyone to ruin it this time. So maybe we pass on the outing?
I search Noah’s face.
What do I do?
Noah gives a slight jerk of his chin, reminding me we’re not the only ones standing here, and I need to move my ass.
Right, right.
I take a step inside, past a stunned silent Brady and Cam as they shift backward, making room for us to enter. Reaching back, I grab hold of Noah’s T-shirt, and drag him with me.
“Hey, guys,” I absently wave toward the others, without so much as glancing in their direction.
“Hey, man,” Noah says behind me, and I can only assume he’s talking to my brother when he says, “Harper,” in greeting next.
“Long time no see,” Mason jokes, and an easy chuckle slips from Noah.
They’re quiet after that, and I have no doubt the bags hanging from Noah’s hands are being inspected as we slip into the kitchen.
I quickly spin, facing him.
“Do you want to go ride the bumper boats?” I whisper, the second we’re as far away as the space allows.
He moves in closer, using his body to shield me from the others. “Do you want me to go with you?” When I frown, he continues, “Just because I was here when they asked you to go, doesn’t mean you have to invite me.” His blue eyes hold mine.
I glare. “You already know the answer, you just want to hear it.”
I swear he wants to smirk right now, his hand skimming mine as he starts pulling the containers from the bags. “Maybe, but had to be sure.”
“So you’ll go?”
“I’ll go.”
Satisfied, my shoulders ease, and I move to pull the freezer open, pushing shit around to fit the first few items inside. When Noah steps around me with more, I move away, and the moment my eyes lift, they lock onto Chase’s.
He frowns, looks to all the containers on the counter, and back. He pushes to his feet, as if to come closer, and my muscles clench. He doesn’t miss it, and the creases along his forehead double. He stays where he stands.
My brother leans against the back of the couch, his arms folded over his chest, legs crossed. His face is blank as he takes everything in. The food, Noah, me… Chase.
Mason’s brown eyes lift to mine, his head tilting the smallest bit.
I don’t look away.
“No study group today?” he asks.
“No.”
“Do some cookin’?”
“Yep.”
“You cookin’ for me, Ari Baby?” Brady walks up, reaching toward the bags, but I dash forward, blocking him with a brow raised.
“Not happening, big guy.”
Brady makes me laugh when he pokes his bottom lip out.
“Don’t feel bad, half of these I won’t even be sharing with Cam this time.”
“Hey!” she whines, leaning over the countertop to look at all my goodies. “But those soup bowl things were so good!”
“I know, and if you liked that, you’d devour what he made for me today. Way too good to share.” I turn to her with a smile.
“Wait.” She turns to Noah. “You guys made those?” She pushes containers around, trying to figure out what’s inside, her smile wide. “I’ve been meaning to ask where they were coming from, but we’ve been missing each other at home the last couple weeks, and when we are here together, we’re too busy eating ‘em for me to care. I thought you signed up for one of those meal things all those Instagram models try to sell.”
Noah and I look to each other with a laugh.
“You don’t know how to cook,” Chase interrupts, his tone flat.
My throat grows thick, but before I have a chance to respond, Noah does, and with a tone far more friendly.”
“She can cook fine.” Noah’s words fan along my hair.
He’s slipped closer.
We both know that’s not exactly true, that I’m better as the test dummy, but that’s not the point right now, and I could kiss Noah for having my back without pause.
“Yeah?” Chase keeps pushing. “Since when?”
Undeserved guilt washes over me, but it quickly shifts to annoyance.
Who the hell does he think he is? He isn’t being conversational or friendly. He’s being an ass and he knows it.
I look him in the eye. “Since now. He’s teaching me.”
Chase’s lips press into a firm line, and after a moment, gives nothing but a curt nod, heading out the door, Brady and Cam right behind him.
“Be downstairs in five you guys!” she shouts, and then they’re gone.
Mason wears a blank face as he looks from Noah to me, and then to the door Chase just walked out of and back. “What’s his problem?”
I sigh, grab money out of my purse, and shove it in my back pocket. “I don’t know, Mase. Maybe you should ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I said I don’t know, all right?” I lift my shoulders.
He glares a second longer, then lifts his hand and clasps Noah’s shoulder. “Ready to get your ass soaked on some bumper boats, Riley?”
Noah glances at me, and when I nod, he turns to Mason. “Lead the way, Johnson.”
Off we fucking go.
Laughing, Cam and I turn our boats, strategically making our way past the rock waterfall without getting sucked under it.
On the other side, we split.
“Okay, tuck into that corner and I’ll take this side.” She backs up so she’s hidden from the opening. “And now we wait.”
We wait a good three minutes and are just about to give up and go back out to the main water hole, when it grows eerily quiet.
Suspicion flourishes between us, and I mouth, ‘what do we do?’
Her eyes narrow instantly, and she shakes her head knowingly, because she understands exactly what I’m likely to do.
This kind of thing makes me nervous and giddy and I can’t stand it. It’s that feeling you get when you’re walking through a haunted house, knowing full well you’re about to get scared, so you start laughing or screeching, your stomach twisting.
I can’t handle it; I turn my boat back on, and she rolls her eyes with a smile.
We come together, ready to creep around the side, but the second we do, we’re met by a strong front of four smiling men, their water cannons pointed right at us.
We scream and squeal and they crack up as they do their worst.
The excitement and freezing water have adrenaline taking over, and I gun it over to the water’s edge, hop from the boat, and dart up the side of the waterfall.
“What the hell, Ari!” Mason yells through laughter, but I keep going, dipping around the fake palm trees that make a nice little lagoon setting. The water splashes behind me, my friends’ laughter loud and grow
ing nearer, so I know they all jumped out too.
“Hey!” the ride attendant shouts. “You guys can’t be up there! And you can’t take the guns off the boats!”
I yelp, cutting to the left where she can’t see me.
The others are yapping away behind me, but I keep moving. I hop over the small stream running through the rocks and tuck into a shaded corner behind a shadowed boulder.
I smile wide, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to calm my breathing.
“You ditched me, bitch!” Cameron yells from somewhere, and in the next second, she’s squealing. “Goddamn it, Mason!”
He laughs, both of them shouting, “Oh shit!” in the next breath.
The place echoes with a call to security.
“Look what you started.”
My eyes fly open, landing on a gun-yielding Noah. I jerk right, but I’m met with more rock, one too tall for me to climb. I whip around, facing him once again.
Noah’s blue eyes gleam as he glances around. “Looks like you’re stuck.”
“Or you could be nice and give me a five second head start?” I give a giant, cheesy smile.
His eyes crinkle at the sides as he takes a step closer, his mouth taking on a devious grin. “You mean let you go?”
Another step.
I nod, but my smile slips as I look at him. I mean really look at him. His hair is drenched and dripping, the dark even darker, shinier. His T-shirt is soaked along with his athletic shorts.
As I look at his face, I find his smile has faded too, and his eyes, they’re on my lower legs, dripping wet just as he his.
Step.
My breathing grows labored as I try to figure out what’s happening here.
Noah’s my friend. We’re friends.
Friends don’t look at friends this way…
He’s directly in front of me now, all tall and gorgeous and confident, and so close we’re breathing the same air.
“I’m a smart man, Juliet,” he whispers, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Only a fool would let you go once they had you where they wanted you.”
Say You Swear Page 17