Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Noah scoffs, a small smile kicking up the corner of his mouth, and I lean in, gently brushing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be okay, Noah. I know it hurts,” I tell him, pushing my fingers back through his hair. “The second you realize that you don’t need to hold on to all of this guilt, I’ll be right here, ready to celebrate your brother’s memory with you the way he deserves.”
He nods and curls his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in until my forehead rests against his. “He’d like that, wouldn’t he?” he mutters, his tone much lighter now. “He always loved when people bragged about him.”
A wide grin stretches across my face, remembering it so clearly. “He really did.”
A door opens behind us, and I glance back to find the school counselor, Mrs. Thompson, stepping out of her office and doing a double take when she finds Noah still here. She pauses, watching us through a narrowed stare, her brow arching as Noah lets out a heavy sigh. “Don’t think for one second that you can ask me about this at our next session.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she says, clearly making a mental note to do just that.
“What’s the matter?” I tease, nudging Noah. “You don’t want to talk about me?”
Noah scoffs. “Baby, I talk about you every fucking chance I get.”
My cheeks flame, and as Noah’s hand squeezes my thigh, I drop my gaze, unable to handle the look in his eyes, and the way he called me baby circles my mind on repeat. He’s called me every name under the sun, but something about that just felt so . . . intimate.
Seeing me scramble for words, Mrs. Thompson cuts in. “I haven’t seen you in my office for a while, Zoey. How are you doing?”
I give her a smile that quickly turns into a wicked grin. “I haven’t attempted to burn down any schools recently, so I must be doing alright.”
Noah groans, tipping his head back against the wall as Mrs. Thompson smiles back at me, her eyes dancing with a professional kind of laughter. “That’s the spirit,” she says, her gaze flicking toward Noah. “I’ve already got one arsonist to deal with. I don’t need another.”
She gives us each a warm smile before offering a slight nod and then walking away, giving us space to continue whatever this is, but honestly, I think we’re done.
Noah squeezes my thigh again, drawing my attention back to him. “So,” he says, his brows arched in question, but the way his eyes sparkle puts me on edge, knowing something’s coming. “Wanna skip fourth period and go make out in my car?”
My cheeks flame again when another voice cuts through the office. “Gee, Noah. Thanks for the offer,” Principal Daniels says, not even bothering to glance our way as he strides through the student office. “But I don’t think my wife would be down with me taking on a boy toy right now. I’ll take the consolation prize of getting your asses to class though.”
“Fucking hell,” Noah mutters under his breath, shaking his head as Principal Daniels disappears down the hallway, probably heading to his office.
“NOW!” his voice rumbles over his shoulder.
My constant need for approval has me springing to my feet, my eyes wide with the mere idea of getting in trouble, and I grab Noah’s hand, pulling him up behind me. “Shit,” I breathe, glancing up at the clock and realizing I’ve been gone from class for far too long. “Ms. Lennon’s going to eat me alive.”
“Bullshit,” Noah murmurs, his hand low on my back as we make our way out of the student office. “Every single teacher in this school has their heads so far up your ass, they wouldn’t dream of getting you in trouble.”
I smile because he’s right, and as he meets my eye, all I can do is grin up at him. “Pays not to be an asshole,” I tell him. “You should try it sometime.”
“I’ll pass,” he says, walking me back down the hall despite the fact his economics class is in the opposite direction. “Besides, I have it on good authority that you like bad boys.”
I gape up at him. “Who the hell told you that?”
“Who do you think?”
I shake my head, not bothering to respond.
It seems I need to have a little chat with my sister when I get home.
27
Noah
Hobbling through the door of my home, I drop my shit and stride through the house. Training was a fucking killer this afternoon. Liam decided he wanted to talk back to Coach, and as a consequence, we all paid the price.
My hand slips into my pocket, pulling out my phone, and before I even know what I’m doing, I’m typing out a number I’ve tried so hard to forget.