Maybe that breakdown back in Durango had rattled Tay more than any of us realized.
But then again…Durango had flipped a switch in me, too.
Whereas earlier in the trip, I’d simply been aware of Noah beside me—the way you’re aware of a pan heating up on the stove—now I knew what it felt like to actually taste the dish.
To savor it, to anticipate having it again…
I could vividly recall the feel of his mouth on my shoulder, his hand between my legs… and the sounds he made when I kissed my way down that little happy trail…
His thigh brushed against mine as the bus bumped along the highway, and instead of pulling back, he let it rest there. Solid. Warm. Intentional.
Across the aisle, Mrs. Grady leaned forward, peeking around Babs.
“Oh, did I mention I have a little surprise lined up for you tonight, Noah?”
Noah glanced over. So did I.
Babs turned in her seat to face us, her eyebrows climbing halfway up her forehead. “A surprise? You didn’t tell me anything about that. What is it?”
Noah gave a slow blink, the kind that read more “resigned son” than “curious adult.”
“I’ve learned not to ask questions when my mom says the word ‘surprise.’”
His mom smiled, but it wasn’t the same as the warm, train-ride version of her I’d felt drawn to yesterday.
She looked at me, then away, then back again.
And there was something there. Not unkindness. But something quieter. Subtler. Smugness? Apology?
Cheese and biscuits, she was as hard to read as her son was.
Without elaborating further, Mrs. Grady turned away, back to Babs and their usual chatting—about today’s drive and their favorite stops so far and how she’d finally mastered Babs’s secret stitch while crocheting a unicorn for Courtney. Because, apparently, Courtney loved unicorns.
And yes, I remembered who Courtney was.
I shifted slightly, turning just enough to catch Noah’s profile. He looked tired, but in a good way—the same way I felt.
“You good?” I whispered.
He looked at me for a beat too long.
Then he nodded. “Absolutely.”
FOUR CORNERS
I blinked awake, something solid and steady beneath my cheek.
I’d fallen asleep on Noah’s shoulder.
The bus jolted again, and I realized we must be pulling into the parking lot at Four Corners. I sat up a little too quickly, my face flushing as Noah glanced over, and then our eyes locked.
And whoa.
His gaze dipped for half a second—enough to make my breath hitch—and then he licked his lips, like his mouth had gone dry.
Heat rushed up my neck, and when his hand stroked the top of my leg, I had to squeeze my thighs together.
Was it wise to keep quiet about the fact that we were…sort of a thing?
