“If whoever did this was around earlier,” I continued, “there’s a chance they’re on someone’s footage.”
He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared towards the event, eyes narrowed. Then he glanced back at me, focus sharper now. “That could change everything.”
“Yes, but we won’t be able to see any of the official footage for a day or two.”
He didn’t respond straight away.
Noah’s expression changed. “You shouldn’t be dealing with all this alone.”
“I’m not,” I said lightly, meeting his eyes. “You’re here.”
Something passed across his face, small enough that anyone else probably would’ve missed it.
I didn’t.
For a second, he seemed less weighed down. The line of his jaw eased. Some of the strain left his eyes.
He pushed away from the pillar and stepped closer to me. Not enough to make it obvious. Just enough that I noticed.
Close enough that my brain suddenly forgot how to behave like a normal adult.
Did I like that?
Did I likehim?
Surely not. That would be wildly inconvenient.
And also… unexpected.
And also… no.
Absolutely not.
…Maybe?
I tried to brush the thought aside, but it clung on like a toddler refusing to leave a playground.
The drone buzzed low overhead, chasing the last of the golden light across the gardens. Below us, someone burst into loud, wine-fuelled laughter, followed by the unmistakable crash of glass and a chorus of dramatic “Ooohhh noooo’s.”
Neither of us moved.
Noah was still standing near enough that I could feel the heat coming off him despite the ocean wind, his eyes steady on mine in a way that made my stomach do something unhelpful and unpredictable.
Was this a thing?
Was I imagining it?
My phone buzzed loudly in my pocket.
The sound practically detonated the moment.
I jumped, blinking like I’d just been caught doing something illegal.
Noah huffed out the faintest breath and dragged a hand back through his hair, the tension between us loosening just enough for reality to sneak back in.
I pulled my phone out.
Cleo: HELP.
