Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I did make the lady taking my photo laugh at a joke I said,” Noah said proudly.
“Called it.”
He laughed, the sound filling the car like music from my favorite artist. “I just give back the energy people give me. Or at least the energy I want them to give me. Keeps things positive and usually rubs off on everyone else.”
“It does,” I said, still smiling as we drove onto the highway, effortlessly accelerating. The white leather seat seemed to wrap around me. I stretched out my legs, massaging the tension in the back of my neck. “The book club was great tonight. I love being a part of it—sucks that I couldn’t stay. I’m excited about the retreat, though.”
“Same,” Noah said, his grin growing. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other in his lap, relaxed and comfortable. “It’s always a shitshow, but in a really good way. There was one time that Tristan got so drunk he thought the neighbor was a brown bear coming at him. He yelled bloody murder and ran into the cabin, tripping over himself and locking the door. Emily shows up minutes later wearing this big fur coat, knocking on the door and asking if everything was alright.”
That story resulted in more laughter filling up the car.
“She looked a little offended when we told her what really happened. I never saw her wear that coat again,” Noah continued, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was focused on the road, which gave me a moment to focus on him: sharp jawline, soft nose, softer lips, long and curly lashes, a couple of perfectly placed beauty marks, a subtle scar that ran at the edge of his left brow. Poetry on skin. That was Noah. Everything flowed together like lyrical prose, creating someone that was equal parts captivating and welcoming. He drew me in unlike anyone else in my life had.
Like magic. Something about Noah put me under a deep spell, and it was growing harder and harder to shake it off. To remind myself that I was sitting next to a friend— a friend that was quickly proving to be one of the best I’d ever had.
So there was no need to mess things up with thoughts of lips and jawlines. No matter how tempting they might have been, how badly I wanted to run my tongue along them, tracing them with a finger while I used another to explore him…
Noah pulled off the highway and drove a few more minutes before reaching my mother’s neighborhood. She lived in an older community that lacked landscaping and maintenance but was only a couple of blocks away from the hospital, which made things easier for her. I wanted to try and save up to get her into another place but was beginning to wonder if moving her to a brand-new area would only make things worse.
“This the one?” Noah asked, slowing to a stop in front of a quaint one-floor home. Its awnings were in need of a pressure wash, and some of the white trim needed a touch-up, but other than that, it was the nicest one on the block.
“This is it,” I said, unbuckling and taking a breath. “Thank you. Seriously.”
“And seriously, no problem. I’d do this anytime you need.”
“See you tomorrow?”
Noah cocked his head. “Huh? No, I’m waiting here for you. How else are you going to get home?”
“That’s fine. I can—”
“Nope.” He crossed his arms. “I’ll wait.”
I arched a brow, sensing that I was running directly into a brick wall with this conversation. And I kind of liked it.
That’s when I relented but also when I got another idea. “Instead of staying out here, then, why don’t you come in?”
Noah—perma-smile still on his face—answered with a nod and turned off his car, as if he had been waiting this entire time for me to ask him. “I’d love to,” he said, making my heart flutter for no reason other than because he was Noah Barnes, and the promise of his presence alone was enough to make me happy.
It’s a superpower. He’s a damn superhero.
11
NOAH BARNES
I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I was nervous. Not because I was scared of meeting Jake’s mom, but more so because I was nervous about making a good impression on her. Silly, considering there was no reason to be worried about that, and yet still, I could feel my hands getting slightly clammy, and my heart started pumping a little faster as we stood outside of her door. She shuffled around on the other side, the sounds of three heavy locks clicking open, followed by the creak of rusty hinges. His mom stood in the doorway with a smile that looked a whole lot like Jake’s.
“Hey, Ma, everything okay?”
Jake’s mom took him into a tight hug, the kind reserved for a mother and son, before letting go, one hand still on Jake’s elbow. “Yes, thank you. I had a moment back in my bedroom. I feel a little better now.”