Whatever it was, he hadn’t wanted to confide in me about it. And he hadn’t wanted to see me. I felt stupidly selfish for being hurt, but I was.

Was this the end? Had we ruined things? But how? This afternoon at the salon, everything had been fine. What could have happened in between then and now to make him shut down that way?

“Everything okay, Meg?” Sylvia called.

Attempting to swallow the lump in my throat, I nodded. “Yeah, I—” My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked at the screen. Noah McCormick calling.

“Hello?”

“Fuck, Sawyer. I’m sorry.” He sounded a little more like himself.

“It’s okay.”

“Are you in Mack’s car?”

“Not yet.”

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

My heartbeat quickened. “Okay.”

“But wait inside, do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Give me twenty.”

“I’ll be here.”

I went over to my sisters and told them Noah was going to pick me up and suffered another round of good-natured teasing peppered with lots of obscene gestures and dirty jokes. After about ten minutes, Mack pulled up, and my sisters piled into his Chevy Tahoe, giggling like children.

He came around to open the passenger door for Frannie, kissed her cheek, and helped her in. After shutting the door, he turned to me, an amused look on his face. “You need help getting in too?”

“No, my friend Noah is picking me up.”

“Noah McCormick?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “I know him a little bit. Nice guy.”

Frannie rolled down her window. “Is she telling you about her friend, Noah? Don’t believe her. They have sex. He handcuffed her.”

“Frannie!” I gave her a murderous look over Mack’s shoulder. “That was a secret!”

“You can trust Mack,” she said, giving me her innocent eyes, except she was so drunk it came out more like trush.

Mack shook his head. “How much did you guys drink tonight?”

I had to laugh. “Probably too much. But we had fun.”

“Good." He looked up and down the street, which was pretty empty this late on a Wednesday night. “Are you sure I can’t drop you at his house?”

“I’m sure. He’s on his way, and I’m going to wait inside until he texts me he’s here.”

He looked relieved. “Okay. Go on in now, and stay there until you see him.”

I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Rolling his eyes, he grumbled something about Sawyer women I couldn’t quite make out and hustled back around to the driver’s side. I gave my sisters a wave and went back into Poppycock’s to wait.

After a couple minutes, I saw Noah pull up at the curb. I rushed out as he leaned over and opened the passenger door for me.

“Hey,” I said, sliding in and buckling up. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“No problem.” He pulled away without looking at me or touching me. Clearly whatever was causing the bad mood hadn’t lifted.

Renzo was in the back, and I leaned around to greet him. “Hi, handsome. Did you have a good day?”

The dog seemed happier to see me than Noah did.

We drove in silence for about ten minutes, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Whatever has you so pissed off.”

“No.”

“Did something happen at work?”

“Drop it.”

I sat back and looked out the passenger window, but again, the silence grew unbearable. “Did you go to the park after work?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you run?”

“Yeah.”

“How was it?”

“Fine.”

I sighed dramatically, crossing my arms over my chest and studying the hard set of his jaw. “Do you want to just take me home, Noah? Because it doesn’t seem like you want to be with me.”

“I’m just not in the mood to talk, okay?” he snapped. “Not everything needs to be talked about all the time.”

“But if you don’t talk about it, whatever’s eating at you is just going to get worse,” I said, wanting to help.

“Words aren’t going to make anything better, Sawyer, they’re just fucking words. Even when you say them.” His tone was angry and bitter. He’d never spoken to me that way before.

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you!” he roared. “I’m just mad, okay? Not everything is about you!”

“Fine.” I looked out the window for a few more minutes, feeling confused and helpless and frustrated. Why had he even come to get me?

Ten minutes later when we pulled into his garage, he still hadn’t said anything. The crickets in his yard seemed extra loud as we made our way to the back door.

“I’m going to give Renzo a few minutes out here. You can go in,” Noah said.

“I’ll wait with you.”

“Suit yourself.”

We stood side by side without speaking. When Renzo was ready, we followed him inside.

Right away, Noah took Renzo into the spare bedroom. I got myself a glass of water and waited in the kitchen for him to come back. When he didn’t, I wandered toward the front room, where I found him sitting on the couch, staring at the TV, which wasn’t even on. One lamp was lit, illuminating his strong, handsome profile. My insides tightened, and I knew instinctively something was way off.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

“No, thanks.” His tone was a little softer.

Moving into the room, I set my water aside and sat on the ottoman in front of the couch, so I was facing him. “Hey.”

His eyes closed.

“Hey.” I put my hand on his knee. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to tell me anything. I can just be here with you.”

He reached for me. “Come here. Let me hold you.”

Nineteen

Noah

I didn’t deserve her affection after the way I’d treated her, but I pulled her onto my lap anyway. She kicked off her heels and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, cradling my head against her chest.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “Sorry I was an asshole in the car.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. This has nothing to do with you, I just needed to get angry at someone, I guess.”

“I understand. We’ve all done it.”

“I should have let Mack take you home. I’m not much fun tonight.”

“I don’t care.” She stroked my hair, kissed my temple. “I’m not just here for fun, Noah. I care about you. And if you need to vent some anger at me, it’s okay. I can take it.”

“You don’t deserve it.” Still, I wasn’t about to let her go. It felt too good to hold her this way, to let her hold me, to let some of the tension from this shitty day drain out of my body and take solace in her warmth and familiarity. I was a lucky fucking bastard.