* * *
Me: Do you have headphones?
* * *
I grin, knowing he’s smirking on the other side.
* * *
Romeo: I do. Do you have a turtleneck on?
* * *
A laugh spurts out of me, and I don’t hesitate.
I hit call on FaceTime.
It takes him a few rings to answer, and when he does, he lifts his finger to his lips. Noah slips his earbuds in, shifting so his body is wedged half against window, half against the seat.
He pulls his hood up to get more comfortable, the thick gray cotton now pressed against his cheekbones, accentuating the sharpness of his features, and casting a low shadow off of his lips. But every few seconds, the window provides a low flicker of light, allowing me to see all of him. It’s like watching a thriller, nothing more than a quick flicker of clear sight to get your blood pumping.
Finally, he grins.
“I wish you weren’t so far.” The words slip from me before I even realize how true they are.
His eyes flick to mine and hold. “Oh yeah?”
Heat spreads through me, and I nod. “Yeah.”
Noah rolls his tongue across his bottom lip, drawing my attention to his mouth. “And why’s that?”
“Because you can’t sleep, and I can’t sleep.” I smile. “We could not sleep together.”
Noah’s chuckle is low, and he lifts the neck of his hoodie up, slowly gliding the material between his teeth. “I’ll be home in eight hours.”
“Sorry, invitation expires in seven.”
His lips curve to the side, his eyes low and tired. “Of course it does.” He pauses, then quietly asks, “You all packed for your trip?”
“We finished a bottle of cheap liquor instead.”
He laughs, shaking his head.
“I’m not worried about it. We’re not fancy campers. Sweats, shorts, and sweatshirts are basically it. And ponytails. As long as we have some shit in our bags when the boys are ready, we’re good.”
“You leave right after we get back?”
“We do.” I fight a smile. “We want to have as much time there as we can, and it’s a few hours away.”
He nods, glancing out the side window. “I should let you get to sleep then. You don’t want to be hungover on the drive,” he repeats what Mason said earlier.
“Yeah, been there done that.” A yawn works its way up my throat and I scoot down on my pillow, reangling my phone and propping it up with some smashed blankets.
Noah’s eyes leave my face then, and while I’m not quite sure what parts of me he can see, he twists his entire torso, positioning himself fully against the bus wall, drawing his phone even closer. “Okay, I really need to go.”
To be playful, I stretch out even more, so my top rides up my hip a little higher.
“Juliet.” He warns with a frown. “I’m stuck on this bus with thirty-three other men for the next seven hours, won’t see you for another seventy-two after that. Hang up.”
A light chuckle leaves me and I smile. “Good night, quarterback.”
Noah’s eyes grow soft, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Night, beautiful.”
My entire body breaks out in a cool chill, an airy sensation working its way through me. I wave, but I don’t hit end, somehow knowing he won’t either, and he doesn’t.
I pull my covers up to my chin, tucking my hands under my pillow, and his head falls against the glass.
I close my eyes and fall asleep.
As he said he would, Mason texted me his location when their bus was almost at their exit, also reminding us we better start packing now if we hadn’t already—he knows us so well, we literally finished packing less than five minutes before his message came through.
The plan is for them to rush home for showers and their bags, and to be loading ours up in Mason’s Tahoe no more than an hour later, which works, but I’m hoping it goes a little differently.
I lean against the tree, pulling up Mason’s location to find they’re coming down the road just in front of campus, and a few seconds later, the large blue and gold bus is turning into the parking lot. It’s only stopped for a few seconds before the doors open, and the team begins pouring out.
Pushing off, I move closer.
I spot my brother first, and a hint of anxiousness slips in, tightening my ribs.
He moves right for the hatch the driver just opened and starts moving bags around in search of his.
It’s Brady who spots me first.
“Ari Baby!” he shouts, and several heads glance my way, but they quickly go back to whatever it is they were doing. He jogs over, unable to wait for me to reach him on my own and pulls me into a hug. “You ready for some fuck-off time?”