I was hoping for an invite to sleep in Noahâs tent last night, but not an hour after our marshmallow fun, Cameron was down for the count, which put me on best friend duty.
I did, however, set my alarm for when he mentioned he was getting up, so I could help him pack and say bye before he took off. Knowing the boys, weâll be here as long as possible, cutting it to the very last minute before we have to head back to campus. Theyâre every bit outdoor, hands-on, adventure men.
By six a.m., on the dot, Noahâs pulling out of the campsite, headed home for his visit with his mom.
As quietly as I can manage, I snag the last of the logs near Bradyâs truck and carefully arrange them into a tall point around the mess of ashes. Thereâs enough kindling still burning below that I donât have to use the brush to get it going todayâclearly some campers had a way later night than I did for this baby to still have some lifeâso I stay crouched, watching to make sure it burns evenly or the fire will weaken sooner than we want.
âYou need another log?â
I glance over my shoulder to find Chase stepping up, his hands buried in his hoodie pockets, beanie hanging half off his head, as if he forgot to tug it down when he crawled out of bed.
âThese are the last of them.â
He nods, coming forward. âYouâre up early. Cam okay?â
I chuckle, pushing to my feet. âDrooling all over my pillow when I last checked. Her ride home wonât be fun.â
He grins, following my steps.
âWant to help?â I gesture to last nightâs beer pong mess, pulling two garbage bags from the plastic bin under the food table.
Wordlessly, he grabs the bag, and we start on opposite sides, picking up the empty cans on the ground first, moving to the tabletop second.
âI miss partying like this.â Chase looks across the trees. âWell, I guess this is only our third parent-free camping trip, but still. I could go for more of these.â
âGood thing weâve got all that practice from sneaking onto the back of Bradyâs grandparentsâ property, or weâd be coming out here with nothing but tents and an ice chest.â
He grins. âYeah, we discovered the hard way you have to bring wood camping, didnât we? That was a failure of a trip.â
âWe had to leave in the middle of the night, and we slept in the truck outside my house because Mason didnât want to see the grin on my dadâs face when he got to say âI told you soâ when they said we werenât ready to go on our own.â
Chase laughs, nodding his head.
I gasp, looking to him. âDo you remember summer of sophomore year, when your parents let us have that pool party at your place?â
âOur first adult-free swim session.â
âThat took two weeks to get them to agree to, and in the end, only hit us with one condition⦠â I raise a brow at him.
Chase drops his attention to the table. âNo fighting.â
âYes, no fighting, and what do you know, they come home to find their very own son, with a black eye because you just had to go and hit on Jake Henryâs girlfriend.â
I laugh, thinking about it, but when I look over, I find Chase frowning at the stream of beer heâs pouring into the dirt, so I close my mouth and continue cleaning.
After a moment, he sighs. âYou bought a new swimsuit for that party. Pink with white stripes.â
My head snaps in his direction.
I did?
âI put you on my shoulders for a chicken fight against Cam and Brady, and we won,â he continues, licking his lips as his eyes rise to mine. âI dropped us back into the water to let you down, and I did⦠but then I spun around and reached for you.â He holds my gaze. âI pulled you to me, and without a word, you wrapped your legs around my waist. You smiled, and then let go. I didnât realize until someone splashed that I didnât. I was still holding onto you.â
I shake my head, confused, and his eyes move between mine.
âIt was a total of ten seconds, if that,â he tells me then. âBut that was all it took for Mason to see.â
âWe were playing a game, celebrating a win.â I swallow. âIt was nothing.â
âIt was something, Ari, and he knew it.â Chaseâs lips twitch. âHeâs got a solid right hook.â
Pressure builds along my chest. âIt was Mason? Mason gave you the black eye.â
My mind spins, anxiously searching for the purpose. For the meaning.
Of what Mason did and why.
Of Chaseâs words and the reason heâs sharing them.
âWhy did you lie?â My voice comes out lower than intended.
A shadow falls over him, and while his chin lowers the slightest bit, he doesnât look away. âCome on now.â
Because I would have gotten angry.
Because I would have punched Mason back.
Because I would have assumed I meant more to Chase when I was so sure I didnâtâ¦
Did I mean more to you then?
When did you let me go?
I hastily bend at the knees, my movements jerky as I pick up a few discarded can tabs from the ground.
âAriannaââ
âWhy did you tell me that?â
âYou said I hit on Jakeâs girlfriend. I wanted you to know that wasnât true.â
But why, I want to ask. That was two years ago, so what does it matter now? I donât ask because what purpose would that serve?
He said he wanted me to know, fine. Now I do. So thatâs that.
I pop a shoulder with overfed dramatics and do my best to wash away the entire conversation with some lighthearted teasing.
âWell, thatâs a relief. She was a biatch and matched quite well with her douchey boyfriend, so consider your character redeemed.â
âOne goal fulfilled,â he jokes back. âA dozen more to go.â
Looking up, I meet his green eyes, and we share a small smile before going back to the task at hand.
Chase and I tie off the bags, and when he faces me, his beanie slips even higher, now barely hanging on. With a low laugh, I step forward, tugging it back into place. My eyes move to his, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a broken smile.
âThanks,â he mumbles as I step away.
We turn toward the metal dumpsters, located several yards away, but the slight squeal of brakes sounds behind us.
We both look over our shoulders, finding Noah rolling to a stop at the top of the hill.
âI wonder why he came back,â I think out loud, taking a step in his direction, but quickly pause turning back to Chase.
âMust be something he didnât want to leave behind.â He stares a moment, slowly facing me, and in the next, his hand is stretched out as a frown builds across his face.
Hesitantly, I pass over my bag.
Heâs already walking away before, âThanks,â leaves me, and so I spin around, jogging up the short hillside.
Noahâs eyes are pointed past me, but lower to mine as I reach him, a small smile finding his lips.
Iâm about to ask him what happened when I notice two hot coffees in the cupholders and two breakfast sandwiches sitting on the dash.
âCouldnât have you burning the forest down trying to make your own,â he drawls lazily, his head sinking to the seat behind him.
A chuckle bubbles out of me and I grip the doorframe, bringing myself closer to him. âThank you.â
Noah stares into my eyes, slowly sliding his hand into my hair and pulls my lips to his. He kisses me slowly, almost achingly so, and I want to fall into him.
After a moment, he sighs and says, âI donât want to leave you here.â
I love the way he says what he means. He never leaves me to wonder, and if I ever do, he sees it and answers my concerns without a question asked.
I lower my chin to my forearm and whisper, âSo donât.â
Noahâs eyes grow curious, and I smile.
âI donât have to crash your visit. You could take me home first, or I can nap in the truck. Get reacquainted with cafeteria food,â I joke.
Noah licks his lips. âYouâd leave with me now?â
I sigh loudly, shrugging my shoulders. âIâd have left with you thirty minutes ago if you had asked.â
Noah grips my chin and my lips press together in a grin. âGo pack your bag, Juliet.â
I step back and pull open his door.
He looks at me like Iâm crazy, dropping against his seat when I grip the steering wheel and haul myself into the cab, my side squishing against it.
âIâm a good camper, Mr. Riley. Everything stays packed and zipped up tight, so no bugs get in. Cam will grab it for me.â
He eyes me, halting me with a palm to my ribs when I try squeezing past him. âJust like that?â
I tip my head. âUnless you have a problem with me looking like a homeless person, whatever you decide to do with me, yes. Just like that.â
His nod is slow, his fingers spanning out over my stomach. He holds me there a moment, and then he lets go. I crawl into the space beside him.
Noah waits for me to buckle up, and once I am, he passes me my coffee. âExtra hot.â
âJust the way I like it.â
Noah smirks to himself, his hand falling to my thigh, and it only leaves the spot when absolutely necessary.
The drive is peaceful, full of laughs and stories, and once we do finally make it back to town, he doesnât drop me off at home. He hops on the opposite highway, headed for his momâs.
As we arrive, he jumps out and reaches for me.
âNot embarrassed to enter with a hot mess like me?â
âPsh.â He hauls me out, stepping back to get a better look, his smirk far too cocky. âYou look better in my clothes than you do yours.â
A laugh pushes past my lips, and I shove him away, taking off ahead of him, but he catches up quickly, his lips at my ear.
âAnd the mark on your neck you thought I wasnât aware of, we should talk about making it a little more permanent, hmm?â
My steps falter, and he leaves me with his airy chuckle, only turning back once heâs at the entrance, and holding the door open for me to step inside.
He and I walk into the building side by side, hand in hand, and when we curve the corner, stepping into his momâs room, she smiles wide.
âI prayed youâd be with him today, and here you are,â she admits. âCome sit. Thereâs so much I need you to know.â
She reaches for me with her right hand, her working hand, so I let go of Noahâs and take the opposite chair this time. I glide my palm under her left one, my other coming down on top of it.
Tears brim in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her free hand covering my own.
I donât look to Noah, I couldnât possibly, but there isnât a doubt in my mind that his eyes are on me. I can feel the weight of his gaze. It pierces through me, searing into my soul, where I suspect a piece of him now lives.
âI like your sweatshirt. I think I recognize that one,â Lori teases, mischief in her eyes when my cheeks burn a bright red.
âMe too, but itâs kind of warm in here. You sure you donât want to take it off?â Noah takes the place on her right, grinning wide when I pin him with an Iâm going to kill you expression while subconsciously pulling my collar a little closer to my neck.
I give all my attention to Lori.
âTell me the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him.â
Noah laughs loudly, and his momâs chuckle follows.
âYou know, I hate to disappoint, but heâs never quite been the embarrassed type. A little quiet at times, but nervous or embarrassedâ¦â She shakes he head.
I narrow my eyes on Noah, his grin still in full effect as he props back in his seat, leaning all lazy and gorgeous like. âNo, I donât suppose he was. He never does leave you guessing.â
âGrowing up, his friends were his teammates, so each year, as kids got older or moved programs, the new incoming kids would become his friends. He never did much with them outside of that though. He liked to be home.â
He liked to make sure you were never alone.
He understood her sacrifices as a young boy and grew up with an open heart and a strong mind, both that came from the unyielding love and support of his mother. He didnât have an army around him like me, but he had her, and he made sure she felt she was enough.
A tender, heaviness falls over my chest, but I try not to show it, propping my chin in my open palm. âTell me about his first ever football practice.â
âHe cried like a baby,â she says instantly, making me laugh. âBegged me not to make him go, but I said, son, listen to me,â Lori continues telling her story and slowly, I look to Noah.
He winks my way, but itâs soft and different, and when he looks to his mom, I realize something.
Noah isnât all the things the boys are for me.
Heâs somehow⦠more.