“You’re always welcome here,” she replies, pulling back and reflecting the same grin.
“I’m ready,” Ezra says, zipping up his hoodie.
To my utter surprise, Noah chirps from the entrance, “I can drop her.” He shrugs his shoulder as if he didn’t just offer to confine me in the same space as him.
My head swivels to him, and my eyes narrow. What on God’s green earth is he thinking?
“You don’t mind?” Ezra confirms, pretty eager to hand me off, while I mouth at Noah to say no.
“I can go myse—”
Noah interrupts me as if I didn’t just warn him with my eyes, “Of course, not.”
Ezra grins at him, clapping his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
“But—”
“You’ll go with him, Andie?” Ezra’s gaze turns to me, awaiting my response.
My gaze ping pongs among every person in theroom, Noah daring me to deny as a smirk sneaks up his lips, Ezra patiently waiting, and Kaeli studying me. She’s too perceptive.
If I deny, it would seem suspicious. So, I plaster a fake smile and agree. “For sure. Let’s go, Noah,” I say, curtly, stomping out of the house and toward his vehicle, not giving a second glance.
While he strolls down the steps like he has all the time in the world, chatting up with Ezra and Kaeli. I fold my arms across my chest, my skirt flaring with the light wind as I tap a foot impatiently on the concrete.
When he’s finally done, he swaggers to the car and opens the door for me, and since Ezra and Kaeli are still at the door to see us off, I wave at them and slide into the passenger seat.
Crossing to his side, Noah climbs in too, and soon we’re on the road.
“Look at me,” he whispers, as I keep my gaze fixed on the blurring city.
When I don’t comply and huff instead, he pleads, “Please, look at me, Andie.”
The stuttering of his breath and his pained voice have me turning my head to him to find him already looking at me at the red light, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
“Iamsorry,” he begins. “I-I didn’t want to—” he shuts his eyes and looks ahead, his head leaning against the headrest.
I patiently wait for him to continue, giving him time to formulate what he intends to say. Regardless of my anger at him, I drink him in. I study his unruly, wavy blond hair falling over his forehead.
My gaze slides from his eyes to the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. Did it hurt, I wonder? Hashebeen hurt before? I hope not.
Just as I reach his lips, they part, and he speaks, “I didn’t want to leave you hanging, Andie.”
All the hurt comes rushing back in at his words. “But you did,” I say, my tone clipped.
“I know.” Noah’s eyes flutter open, and he turns to look at me, his head still against the headrest.
His throat bobs, and the position makes it even more prominent. My eyes latch onto it. I wonder what it would feel like to lick it, bite it.
I mentally rebuke myself for having such thoughts even when angry.
“Why?” I let the words slip past my mouth. Because no matter how much I pretend otherwise, I wish to know the reason why he would go back on his word.
“Your brother, Andie. Ezra is the reason,” he relays. I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “I know. I know I agreed earlier. But whenever I picked up the phone, Ezra’s face would flash in front of my eyes.”
The light turns green, Noah shifts the gears, and the car is moving as he straightens in his seat.
“The thought of hurting him, betraying his trust, going behind his back, clawed at my insides, Andie,” he continues, keeping his eyes on the road.