Page 28 of You Fall First
“But.” I push my lips into a fresh smile. “You two are having a special weekend together, so extra treats are totally cool.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too.” Noah meets my gaze, and a thread of understanding passes between us. My stomach threatens to churn again, so I quickly change the subject.
“Anyway, I can’t believe I ran into you again. Three times in a single Saturday.”
“Lucky us,” Noah says, like he means it.
“Yeah, I never get lucky.” I snort, keeping things light. “And believe me, I’ve tried.”
His mouth quirks. “Oh, really?”
“Oh no.” I just told my brother’s friend that I never … get lucky. “Not that I’m constantly on the lookout for … I don’t … I’m not … well … you know what I mean.” My throat heats, and I can only imagine my cheek-butts are turning neon pink.
“Jo. You’re all good,” he says gently.
“Good.”
He examines my basket, tilting his head. “You know, Paige would definitely approve of your haul.”
“Then I definitely approve of her,” I blurt.
Ugh.
Time to extricate myself before I say or do something even more embarrassing. “Anyway, I’d better get going now.” I fumble with the tampons, attempting to balance the box on the pile. Unfortunately, there’s quite literally no room at the inn, and as the box falls again, Noah catches the thing one-handed.
Great job, Jo. So much for not making this more embarrassing.
“I’ll just hold on to these for you until you check out,” he says.
“I don’t want to bother you,” I stammer.
“It’s not a problem. Dutton and I were just leaving.” He’s about to drop the box into his basket next to Bugs when he pauses. “Unless you have … more shopping to do.” We lock eyes, and I can practically see the wheels turning behind his dark irises.
Like he’s worried about invading my privacy.
For all he knows, I’ve still got hemorrhoid cream or stool softener on my list.
“Nope, no more shopping for me,” I insist. “Straight to the checkout line.”
“In that case ”—Noah slips the box of tampons in his basket—“we’re more than happy to escort you, aren’t we, Woody?”
“Yes, scort!” Dutton grins up at me so brightly, a wave of something warm hits my breastbone.
“Thanks, cowboys.”
As we make our way to the front of the store, Noah and I walk side by side, and Dutton skips along far enough ahead of us not to overhear.
“You know, my offer to help still stands,” I say quietly. “If you need anything …”
Dutton glances back at us mid-skip, as if he’s making sure we’re still there.
“That’s very generous,” Noah says. “But Dutton’s a great kid, and it’s only a couple extra days.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” I say. “There’s just a lot of change coming his way.”
“Yeah.” Noah’s jaw shifts. “But we’ve got this.”
We pay for our things, then Noah and Dutton walk me safely to my car and wait until I drive off.
