Heat shot up Avery’s neck.
The guy muttered something under his breath and moved to another line.
Avery paid for her groceries and walked out. She felt Noah following behind as she got to her car. Furious, she turned on Noah, “What the hell was that?”
He didn’t flinch. “He was bothering you.”
“He was talking to me.”
“He was hitting on you.”
“So what?”
Noah’s eyes flashed. “So I didn’t like it.”
The words hung between them, raw, unguarded, too honest. Avery felt the ground shift under her feet, a slow, dangerous tilt she wasn’t ready for.
He seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late. His expression shuttered. Shoulders tensed. His breath hitched, barely, but she saw it. Panic flickered across his face, quick and sharp, like he wished he could drag the words back into his mouth.
“I shouldn’t have…” He shook his head. “Forget it.”
“No,” she said softly. “Say it.”
He looked at her then — really looked at her — and the heat in his eyes nearly stole her breath.
“I care,” he said quietly. “More than I should.”
The words seemed to shock him as much as they shocked her.
He stepped closer, instinctive, like gravity pulled him toward her. She felt the warmth of him, the tension, the ache. The faint smell of coffee clung to him, familiar in a way that made her chest ache. His gaze dropped to her mouth, just for a heartbeat, and Avery’s breath caught.
They were close enough to touch.
Close enough to fall.
Close enough to ruin everything.
Noah froze.
His jaw clenched. His fists curled. His breath shook once, barely audible.
Then he stepped back like the moment burned him.
“I’ll… see you around.”
He turned and walked toward his bike, jaw tight, fists clenched, shoulders rigid.
Avery stood frozen in the parking lot, pulse racing, cheeks flushed, stomach flipping.
She was furious. She was flustered. She was confused.
But she knew two things.
She hated how much she’d missed the way he said her name.
And Noah Carter still cared.
Chapter 8
