Wow, had it gotten really hot in here? My eyes shifted to Noah, expecting to see panic. Instead, a relaxed smile settled on his face. “Echo and I have class together. ”
Ashley brightened and pressed a hand to her belly. “Really? Which one?”
“Calculus. ”
“Physics,” I added. “And business technology. ”
“Español. ” Had he purposely made his voice all deep and sexy? His hand moved up a fraction
of an inch and squeezed my leg, exerting delicious pressure on my inner thigh. I twisted my hair away from my neck to release some of the heat. Noah either choked on his own spit or stifled a laugh.
Thankfully, my father missed the show. “What do your parents do?”
Uh-oh. I should have prepped Ashley and my father for Noah’s home situation. Okay, I’d considered it, but then I hoped the subject would never come up. I opened my mouth, but he answered, “Shirley stays at home and Dale works at the truck factory. ”
My father and Ashley exchanged a long, concerned look. Ashley shifted in her chair and cupped both hands over the balloon meant to replace my brother. “You call your parents by their first names?”
“They’re my foster parents. ”
I swear to God, I heard myself blink. I possibly could have heard Ashley and my father blink, but neither of them had done that yet. Noah withdrew his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “At the end of my freshman year, my parents died in a house fire. ”
My father clasped his hands and leaned forward in his seat, staring a burning laser hole through Noah. Ashley placed a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my, I’m so sorry. ”
I inched toward the edge of the couch, wanting to get out of here before they asked him anything else. “We should probably get going. ” Not that I had any idea where we were getting to.
“Where are you taking my daughter?” My father spoke to Noah with the malice I thought he reserved only for my mother. He’d clearly stopped listening after the words foster parents.
The temperature jumped another ninety degrees. Why couldn’t anyone in my life see how awesome Noah was? I shoved up my sleeves, welcoming the cold air on my skin.
“Echo, stop!” Ashley propelled herself out of the glider.
I froze and then remembered Ashley was damaged. I was going on a date, not to Vegas with Noah to elope.
Noah’s strong hand slipped over my wrist before he entwined his fingers with mine. The sensation of warm flesh against an area I allowed no one to see, much less touch, caused me to shiver. My eyes widened, realizing my mistake. This was what had freaked Ashley out. What had come over me? I never pulled up my sleeves. I spent all my time pulling them down. When had I become … comfortable?
He rubbed his thumb over my hand. “I planned on taking her to my house to meet some of my friends. ”
Noah could have told them he was taking me to the ghetto and buying us crack and they wouldn’t have heard him. Ashley stood in place, staring at my exposed scars while my father stared at our combined hands. I reached over to pull down my sleeve, but Noah casually placed his hand over my forearm, preventing me from doing it. My lungs squeezed out all the oxygen in my body. Noah Hutchins, in fact, a human being, was overtly, on purpose, touching my scars.
I’d stopped breathing moments ago, as had Ashley. Noah continued as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. “What time does Echo need to be home?”
Blinking myself back to life, I answered for them, “My curfew is eleven. ”
“Midnight. ” My father stood and extended his hand. “I didn’t have a chance to properly introduce myself earlier. I’m Owen Emerson. ”
NOAH
Echo kept silent on the way to Shirley and Dale’s. Stretching the material each time, she repeatedly tugged her gloves up while she yanked her sleeves down. She clearly needed some time to deflate after that interesting meeting. My favorite punk band played on the radio and I drummed my fingers with the bass on the steering wheel. I still had a hard time registering it. Echo Emerson sat in my car, intentionally hanging out with me. Mom would have loved her.
Several shitty cars lined the streets. I’d worked the evening shift at the Malt and Burger for so long, I forgot what hanging out with friends felt like. Sure, they were still around when I got home, but they were too stoned by that time to be any fun.
I parked on the street behind Rico’s gangster piece of crap. Echo stared out the window at the small boxed house. “Where are we?”
“My foster parents’ house. Dale and Shirley are at their trailer down at the lake. ”
Her foot tapped against the floorboard as she assessed the house. The vinyl either needed to be replaced or repainted. Isaiah and I had cleaned a strip in the back once and discovered that the vinyl used to be yellow instead of gray from the grime currently coating it. The house matched the other crappy ones stacked together in the neighborhood—bare with no shrubs or landscaping. On the stoop, three large shadows smoked cigarettes and bellowed deep, rough laughs.
I got out of the car and quickly moved around to open her door. She stepped out, never once peeling her eyes off the house. “How many people are in there?”