“I want it for you so badddd. You deserve it!” she says, stretching out her arms on the table and looking at me empathetically.
Shane places down two plates of French toast before us, then dusts them with powdered sugar.
“Dude, are you a chef or something? Because if not, you should be,” I say, shaking my head before I take a huge bite.
“One day maybe,” Shane says, smiling as he tosses a kitchen rag over his shoulder in a totally cliché move.
“He’s going to open up a breakfast café and name it Luna’s,” Luna jumps in.
I smirk. “Oh yeah?”
Shane rolls his eyes but doesn’t fight a smile of his own. “So she says.”
Luna takes a bite of her French toast and winks at me before diving into a very thorough argument covering why he should absolutely name a café after her.
My eyes flutter open in the dark, and the first thing I see is the ceiling fan gently spinning in a circle. It takes me a moment to place where I am. My bedroom. When I came to bed, Landon was already passed out, thankfully on his side, so I had enough room to slide in. Just like the other night, as soon as I lay down, he wrapped his arms around me, almost like it was instinctual. I definitely didn’t hate it.
A soft tap sounds on the door, and I turn my head in that direction, waiting another couple of seconds to see if I’m just hearing things, but it happens again. Definitely not hearing things.
I carefully unwind Landon’s arm from around me before slipping out of the bed. Running my fingers through my hair, I let out a big yawn as I open the door. The person on the other side is the last I would have expected.
“Noah?” I whisper softly.
Unlike me, he looks like he’s been up for hours. His eyes have deep, dark circles beneath them, his clothes are rumpled and his hair is mussed like he’s run his fingers through it a million times.
“Can we talk?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
I look at him like he’s crazy because seriously, what the fuck?
“No. It’s late. Goodnight,” I say as I go to close the door.
Noah grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks, and places his other hand on the door to keep it open. “Please. I need to say this… please,” he replies almost desperately.
I don’t know why I agree. Maybe I’m keen for some sort of closure. Maybe I want to see him beg a little. Or maybe I’m just too fucking tired to argue.
I gesture for him to lead the way, and he nods gratefully, then takes a step away from the door so I can step out fully. The doorshuts behind me, and Noah begins leading me towards the living room when I stop.
“Here is fine,” I say, crossing my arms.
He pauses and looks around. “In the hallway?”
I nod, and he looks like he’s about to argue with me before he shakes his head and sighs.
“Look, I just… I never got the chance to apologize,” he says.
I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. I stare at him for several seconds before I scoff.
“Okay, an apology usually starts with ‘I’m sorry’ or something else with that meaning.”
He nods quickly and rubs the back of his neck once more. “I know, I know. I just… shit. I fucked up bad. I hurt you. I don’t even know why I did it. I guess I wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a mistake by locking in with the first girl I saw.”
Wow. If this is his version of an apology, he’s doing a remarkably terrible job.
“Looking back, I realize how stupid that sounds. What you and I had… it was so natural. So easy, and I blew it. I’m so sorry I let my head cloud what my heart knew from the moment I saw you.”
Oh my God. This guy thinks I’m a total idiot or something. Oh no, wait. He doesn’t know that the crew showed me the video of him and Savannah. He thinks I assume he left me to follow his heart, not his dick. And now he’s trying to gaslight me into believing this spoon-fed shit? Fuck that.
“You let the little head in your pants cloud what you thought you knew,” I say with my head held high.
