Noah traces my jaw with a fingertip, but his eyes look frenzied, and his cheeks are flushed.He’s nervous about today.
“Are you still scared of those stairs?” He asks in a teasing voice.
I stick out my tongue and give the bottom of my shirt a tug, making certain it covers the top half of the envelope. When I’m positive it’s safely hidden, I turn and head for the next set of stairs that will take us to my apartment.
“I’m glad you aren’t babysitting yet. I really needed to get out of the house. My mom is running around the restaurant and the tasting room like the Queen of England is coming.”
“My home is your home,” I say when we get to my front door. “And I promise to let you out of the dark at least twice while you’re here.”
Noah groans. “You’ve heard that one?”
“Sure have. Did you hear the one about my snatch?”
“That the carpet doesn’t match the drapes?”
“What?” I whirl around. Noah’s shoulders jump. “Are they suggesting I dye my hair? That’s it!” I stomp my foot. Piercings are one thing, but the authenticity of my hair color? “They can talk about my private parts, but they cannot call my hair color into question.”
Noah reaches for a strand and twists it around his finger. “Don’t worry. I assured them you’re monochromatic.”
My eyes bulge, and I blink twice.
He leans in until I feel his lips on my ear. “I’m kidding.”
Letting out a loud breath, I tip my head back in excruciating relief.
He plants a soft kiss on my temple. “I’d never do that, Ember.”
I nod, turning my face to kiss his cheek. “Come on in,” I say, reaching for the door handle.
We walk in, and my mom and Sky look up. Sky sits on the floor, her elbows propped on the coffee table. My mom is on the couch, one foot tucked under the opposite thigh, as she leans forward over the table. Playing cards are laid out between them.
“What are you playing?” Noah asks.
“War,” Sky answers.
“Can I have the next turn?” he asks, settling in next to my mom on the couch.
“Sure,” Sky says at the same time my mom tells him he better not be acheetah.
Noah laughs like he’s never heard a joke, but Sky and I roll our eyes. Despite my mild embarrassment, I’m happy to hear my mom make a joke. The last couple of days, she’s been on another planet—staring around, but not really looking anywhere. This morning she snapped at Sky when an open box of pasta dropped out of the cabinet and spilled on the floor.
While Noah plays I go to my room and slip the envelope into my nightstand. I’ll open it later. I’m dying to know what it says, but today is about Noah. About Dalto.
My absence goes unnoticed, and when I return I snuggle up next to Noah on the couch. We take turns playing until Noah’s pocket rings. He looks up at me, his eyes holding both fear and excitement.
“I better go.” He sets down his cards and rises, pulling his phone from his shorts. “I’m on my way, Dad,” he says, waiting to hear a response and then hanging up.
I walk him to his car. He’s quiet, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just, I don’t know…” We stop at his car, and he turns to look at me. “I’m scared to have the thing I’ve always wanted. Sounds stupid, right?”
I grab his wrist, turn it over, and run my thumb across it. His fingers flex and unfurl as I run my thumb over the soft skin once, twice, seven times.
“That’s not stupid, Noah. It’s fear of the unknown. I think working for something your whole life, the way you have with soccer, is kind of like walking up a mountain that ends in a cliff. You have no idea what’s going to happen when you step off.”
“That’s what falling in love with you feels like.” He flips his open palm over and grabs my arm, pulling me in close. “I’m frightened for us, Ember. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” The warmth of his sigh travels over the top of my head.
