My eyes widen when I see who’s sitting in the front seat, truck idling. What. The. Hell.
I scoff, but squint nonetheless to find he isn’t alone, and when his door opens and he steps out, a blonde darts out after. As soon as I see Noah, I spin to avoid him, but he lifts his head as if drawn and spots me almost instantly.
“Lily?” He says my name, sounding surprised, but is that a hint of relief, eagerness?
“Lily?” the blonde says, walking around the front of his truck staring at him.
I slump back, tapping my palm to my chest several times to tame my rapid heartbeat from moments ago.
It’s Morgan. She’s dressed in a gold sequin dress, her hair sprung in tightly wound curls with a face dolled up for a night out. I glance down at my black leggings tucked into my hiking boots and sweater, then roll my eyes. While her hair doesn’t have a strand out of place, I know mine looks to have been in a fight with several pillows.
They must be on a date. The two times I’ve seen Morgan she’s never been this put together. Though as I look back toward Noah, he’s dressed in his work uniform with dark circles under his eyes, and a mustard seed of doubt claws in the back of my mind. Maybe they aren’t on their way to dinner.
Noah scrutinizes me, his eyes darting from me and my car to the sullen gas station eerily propped up against the dead backdrop of night. I’m not sure what he sees. Possibly a frumpy, overly hungry hiker who’s just been spooked enough to have trembling hands tucked up in both sleeves.
“Hi,” I say, but there’s trepidation in my voice, even I can hear it.
“What are you doing out here, Lily?”
“Um, getting gas?” I glance toward the vending machine but decide to leave out my minor run-in with it.
Noah practically runs into the concrete bollard next to this gas pump as he ignores getting gas in favor of approaching me. “By yourself?”
I glare, feeling a flicker of annoyance splash into the pool of fear from a moment ago. I hike a thumb over my shoulder toward my car. “Me? Alone? Nah, I’ve got Steve.”
To be fair, I don’t know his name.
“Who’s Steve?” The look Noah gives me is incredulous.
The corner of my mouth lifts as I point to the wiry man, most likely in his late thirties, sitting behind the counter inside the run-down station, a baseball cap hovering low above his eyes.
For the first time since I’ve “met” Noah, he rolls his eyes—the golden boy façade cracks—and I can’t help the smile that breaks through my pressed lips.
“Are you okay then? Your face when I pulled up …” He pauses, probably realizing how that sounds.
But before I can say anything, Morgan marches over to us. Was Noah always this close to me? How did he move inches from my face without me noticing?
“Noah. We should be going,” Morgan says, her tone clipped.
Noah studies me for a few more seconds before he drops his eyes and his shoulders sag. “Yeah, let me get the gas. You should probably get in the truck. It’s cold.”
Morgan crosses her arms, turning her nose up slightly. “I’m fine.”
If the goose bumps pricking her arms are any indication, she’s not “fine,” but I get the feeling she’d rather freeze to death than leave Noah out here alone withme.
“How about you, Lily? Will you be warm enough tonight?”
I narrow my eyes on her. What’s she trying to say?
Noah doesn’t miss a beat. “What do you mean warm enough?”
“You’re the one who sleeps in the gym parking lot, right? A few of the locals have seen you around town.”
My cheeks burn, the heat creeping all the way to the tips of my ears and wiping the last remnant of cordial off my face. I should laugh it off, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t loosen at that thought. I’m not sure what to say, but I know getting out of here would be a good plan. “I should be going,” I say, hands fidgeting aimlessly with the cuff of my sleeves.
Turning, I reach for my door handle, but a hand gently tugs at my biceps. “Wait.”
His hand is hot, searing. His fingers splay wide around my arm, and my eyes widen along with Morgan’s as his touch lingers.
