“I like pasta.”
He shakes his head. “Already know that too.”
“Okay… I don’t like flowers.” His brows rise. “Or I do, but I think they’re wasteful as gifts. Overpriced just to be tossed in the trash a couple days later.”
“Noted.” He chuckles, an expectant look on his face.
“More?”
His nod is slow.
I laugh again, and with a hint of bashfulness I share something else, something he definitely doesn’t know.
“My uh, my favorite color is blue.”
Noah’s blue eyes sharpen, and he holds mine a long moment, and when the grin that follows is far too charmingly cocky, I toss a pillow at him to erase it.
He chuckles and we settle into the cushions.
We spend the next several hours eating popcorn, chatting about our childhoods and the things we miss.
By the time he goes home, it’s after three in the morning, and before I’ve got the door locked behind him, I’m already looking forward to next time.
Chapter 21
Arianna
* * *
Come Wednesday, midterms are in full effect and caffeine is the food of choice. Most of those on campus are hunkered down with study groups, essays, and a million other things that keep all of us busy and on the go. I’ve seen Cameron twice all week, talked to my brother once outside of a few texts, and while I haven’t seen Noah either, we’ve both found the time to respond to each other’s messages.
Except for today.
Today, I didn’t hear back from him, but they traveled all day yesterday, and this morning played their first early game. I’m not sure what his game day routine is, so I figure he likes to stay busy and focused, and maybe he’d text me later, but then the game ended. Badly.
His receiver fumbled with three minutes on the clock, and the opposing team picked it up, running it back to score a touchdown. If that weren’t bad enough, he was sacked twice in the next drive, and the coach pulled him out of the game when he hopped up limping.
Mason got to go in as his backup, but it was already third down. There wasn’t enough time left, and the Sharks took the loss.
Noah was okay, though, because I watched him walk off the field after interviews.
I tried to text him after the game, but he didn’t answer then either, so I think he might be the sit back and reflect after a defeat type, which is why I’m sitting here staring at Cameron, unsure of what to do.
She cocks her hip. “Well? Are you coming or not?”
“You said they just got home two hours ago. Are you sure they’re partying? Shouldn’t they, like, sleep?”
She scoffs, as she moves to my desk and snags a pair of dangly earrings. “Please, they had midterms just like the rest of us. They’re pissed, tired, and in need of a pick-me-up.”
“Who called?”
“Brady. He said he left you a message too.”
Frowning, I pick up my phone, and sure enough, I have a voicemail from Brady and one from Mason. “They must have called when I was taking out the trash.”
I look at her, and she folds her hands in front of her in a prayer-like motion.
“What if he doesn’t feel like hanging out? Or what if he’s busy?”
“Honey, he will get unbusy when you show up. Trust that.” She stomps like an excited child. “Come on, please! You’re already looking fine, fresh face, hair did, so let’s go!”
Biting my lip, I push to my feet. “Okay, hurry before I change my mind.”
Cameron squeals, throws her arm around my shoulders and we’re out the door.
Less than an hour later, we’re walking up the porch to the football house.
Mason spots us the second we step inside—I’d swear he had GPS trackers on us, if I didn’t know any better.
He steps up, wrapping me in a hug and lifting me off the ground a moment. “My baby fucking sister came to party! Finally!” He smiles, drunkenly, steering us toward the keg in the corner.
I grin up at him, patting him on the back while he fills up a few cups, passing them over.
“How you feeling?”
“Pissed off.” He laughs with a shrug. “But ready to get back out there.”
“Yeah, sucks to be a loser,” Cameron teases, and he playfully flinches her way.
Cameron gets the familiar giggle she always does when Mason shows her attention, but she quickly swallows it.
He pulls his phone from his pocket with a frown. “Be back, my buddy’s here, needs help carrying shit in. Stay away from all these fuckers ‘til I get to tell ‘em you’re my sister.”