Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“You’re right. I’m a police officer, and you’re a murder suspect.”
I pressed my lips together and looked at him across the car. “That was a low blow.”
He pulled up outside his mum’s house and grinned at me. “Give me five minutes.”
“Take as long as you want,” I said honestly. “Do not rush back on my account.”
“It’s almost like you don’t want to be around me.”
“I can’t think of anything worse than this, to be honest.”
Noah laughed and got out, moving to the backseat where Ash was splayed across it, absolutely out of it.
Yep.
She was a lazy drunk.
I turned in my seat and watched as he hauled her out, holding her up while he shut the door, then scooped her into his arms, princess-style. It was oddly sweet watching him take care as he went inside, and I found my lips curved up at the corners.
No.
No, Charlotte.
No smiling at the man who broke your heart.
Sighing, I dropped my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. I didn’t need a genius to tell me that I wasn’t over us—ten years ago or not, I was human, and unfortunately that came with emotions I didn’t sign up for.
I’d thought about it since coming back, of course I had, but tonight was the first time I’d really let my hair down since before Grandpa died. I hadn’t had a chance thanks to the whole murder thing, and now that I was definitely on the questionable side of drunk, my brain was whirring with silly things.
If I was going to stay in Fox Point, if I was truly going to uproot my entire life to this place, I was going to have to accept a few things.
Mainly that Noah lived here, and if I was going to be close with his sister, I was going to have to get used to having him in my life. He was going to pop up and appear when I least expected him to, and there was no way of changing that.
He had a girlfriend. One who hated me on sight. I couldn’t change that, nor did I want to. Anyone who was that cold to someone’s decade-old ex without even uttering a ‘hello’ wasn’t anyone I wanted to be friends with anyway, so it was whatever. And her issues with me weren’t my problem—they were solely hers.
I understood why she might dislike me on principle, but it wasn’t like I’d waltzed into town and started rubbing myself against Noah like a cat.
If anything, I’d been a bit more of a feral cat where he was concerned.
The car door opened, and I heard Noah sigh. “Don’t tell me you’ve passed out as well.”
“Nope,” I replied, not bothering to open my eyes. “Just reevaluating all my life choices.”
“Ah, good. You’ve reached the miserable stage of drunkenness.”
I peeled my eyes open slightly and glared at him. “I was at that stage the second you called my dad to force me into your car. How do you even have his number?”
“The same way I get most people’s phone numbers. He gave it to me,” Noah replied nonchalantly.
“Hm. What for?”
“Apparently to make sure you get your drunk arse home safely.”
“You’re such a smartarse.”
“Takes one to know one. I seem to remember it’s the only way to deal with you.”
“When I was a teen,” I muttered, looking out of the window. “I’m not that person anymore.”
“Charlotte, I had to call your dad so you’d get in my car. You’re definitely still that person, even a little bit.”
“In my defense, that was more about being in a car with you than me being a belligerent brat.”
He grimaced. “I deserve that.”
“At least you can recognise it.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I should have just gotten a taxi.”
“It’s much safer this way.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“You almost fell off your chair in the pub,” he reminded me. “You absolutely are.”
“Not anymore. I can talk without giggling. Being in a car with you is a sobering experience.”
He glanced at me. “I know you’re not enjoying this, and I don’t blame you, but—”
“You don’t blame me? Oh, good. I’m glad about that.”
“—I wasn’t going to let you put yourself at risk just because you’re mad at me.”
“Mad at you?” I shifted in my seat and stared at him in disbelief. “You think I’m mad at you?”
“I’d have to be blind not to see that, Lots.”
Lots.
Nobody other than him had ever called me that.
I didn’t even know why he’d called me that. He’d always laughed it off, never explaining it, and I’d stopped asking.
It’d always been something that was ours.
But now…
Goosebumps erupted on my arms, tickling their way across my skin. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
“Sorry, I—”
“I don’t care.” I looked away as he pulled up outside Grandpa’s house, blocking the driveway, and I opened the car door. I forgot for a second about my seatbelt, but I unclipped it, grabbing my bag as the belt whooshed back into place, and got out. “Thank you.”