Say You Swear

Chase.

My stomach turns at the thought of him, and I fill my glass with the remainder of the pitcher. When I set the heaving cup back down, my eyes rise, finding Noah studying me, his head tilted slightly.

His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips, and his dark brows slightly pinch, strangely making his face all the more handsome. Thankfully, Cameron begins to speak, so I have an excuse to look away.

“I’m wiped.” She turns to me with a drunken smile. “You must be dying if I’m tired.”

I grin but drop my gaze to my glass. I hate how a simple, unintentional thought that was linked to Chase leaves me sulky, even through the buzz.

Honestly, I’m not tired yet and the last thing I want to do is go home and lie in bed for hours, thinking about things I have no control over and a man I need to get over. Still, I ready to agree, turning back to her, but Noah speaks before I can.

“How ‘bout Trey walks you, and I make sure Ari gets home safely after she finishes that glass she’s just poured?” He flicks my cup, smiling at my friend.

Cam scowls, whipping her head my way. “Ari?”

I bite back a grin, but she knows.

“Go on, bitch.” She smirks, sitting back. “Let’s hear it.”

Trey grins and Noah’s brows draw in further.

“What’d I miss?” He looks between the three of us.

Trey reaches over, smacking Noah’s arm. “Dude, didn’t I tell you this girl comes equipped with a jukebox?”

Noah’s gaze flies to mine with growing intensity. “No.”

Heat makes its way up my cheeks, so I lower my chin slightly.

“Everything, everywhere reminds her of music. She’s physically incapable of not thinking of a song, no matter the situation. It’s weird, but you get used to it.” Cameron laughs.

My mouth drops open. “It is not weird, asshole.”

Noah looks between Cam and me with confusion.

Cam rolls her eyes and I grow more self-conscious. “I said I was leaving, you offered to walk her home and, in her head, miss thang sang…?” She looks to me with an expectant eyebrow raised.

I laugh lightly, trying to calm my nerves before singing out of tune. “If you get there before I do, don’t wait up on me…”

“See.” Cam smiles at Noah. “That. The song has nothing to do with what we’re doing. In fact, it’s sad as shit, and she changes the words when needed, but the me going home thing was the trigger.” She shrugs. “Weird, but all Ari.”

Noah laughs and crosses his arms on the table, his biceps flexing as he leans forward, capturing my brown eyes with his crazy blues. “Earlier, you grinned at yourself and looked away when Trey set the pitcher down…”

My smile is wide, surprised he caught that. “Ever seen Grease?”

He nods, eyes full of wonder.

“At the dance, Doody, Sonny, and Putzie drop their pants to the camera.”

He shakes his head slightly, not quite picking up what I’m putting down, but my lifelong movie partner beside me begins cracking up.

I look to her and together we sing in a low baritone, “Blue moooon.”

Noah throws his head back, laughing, his blue eyes brightening by the second.

I grin, picking up my full glass of fresh off-the-tap Blue Moon and take a large drink.

Noah nods, resting his back into the seat, his eyes never leaving mine, never losing their intensity. “Go ahead, guys. I’ve got her.”

Seeming unsure, Cameron turns to me.

Tonight’s the first night I’ve ventured out, so I know she’s uneasy about me not coming back with her, but one look, and she knows I need to stay.

She nods, moving to her feet. “For the record, if Mason blows up my phone looking for you, I’m totally ratting you out.”

I laugh, nodding. “Fair enough, but I’m betting he’s pretty wasted by now.”

“As if there’s a level of drunk Mason Johnson could reach that would erase his need to know of where his precious twin is and what she’s doing.”

“Considering he has no idea I’m out with you right now, I’d say we’re good.”

“If you say so, still throwing you under the bus if it comes to that!” She blows me a kiss, then off they go.

Laughing, I watch them disappear, before facing forward again to find that Noah, while still leaning forward, has scooted to the center of his side of the booth and is watching me intently.

I let him, not shifting, or shying away from his thoughtful gaze.

Finally, he sighs and sits back, a sad smile tipping his lips.

“You slept with him.” His tone is low, gentle, and sure.

My mouth opens, denial on the tip of my tongue, but the words never come, the truth somehow marked in his gaze. It’s as if I even tried to lie, he’d know it.

So I don’t.

I nod.

Something indecipherable passes over him, and his slow nod follows my own, as does his recognition. “He hurt you.”