We went into her room on the second floor, and she shut the door behind us with this look on her face that made my stomach drop. Then she asked if it was true. If Noah and I weren’t really together. If we’d been lying to everyone.
Noah told her everything. About Rick. About Cassidy. About asking me to come here as a favor. He kept his eyes on the floor the whole time, his voice shrinking with every sentence.
Maya didn’t interrupt once. She just sat on the edge of the bed, frowning while Noah talked. Every so often, her eyes cut tome, like she was trying to work something out, though I couldn’t tell what.
Then Noah asked her not to tell their parents. Maya went quiet for a long moment before she said she wouldn’t.
And that was it. Noah and I went back downstairs and pretended everything was fine.
It wasn’t.
When Maya joined us later, she was quieter than usual, her mood visibly off. Noah sat through the whole dinner like he wanted to disappear into the wallpaper, and now he’s avoiding me by putting as much space between us as the room allows.
Which would be fair, probably, if he weren’t doing it by talking to Rick.
I want to cross the room and claim Noah in some obvious way that would make Rick back off. But I don’t have that right. Not anymore.
“Connor?”
I blink and turn back to Daniel, realizing too late that he’s been talking to me. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I asked what kind of setup you prefer. Fly fishing or spinning rods?”
“Oh. Fly, definitely.” I sit up a little, forcing myself back into the conversation. “There’s something about the rhythm of it. It clears your head.”
Brad grins. “A purist. I respect that.”
I smile back, but it feels stiff on my face. Across the room, Caroline, Maria, Maya, and Cassidy are at the dining table, playing some card game that involves dramatic slapping andexaggerated groans. Maya looks over again—her third glance in the last ten minutes.
I can’t read her expression exactly, but it isn’t the disappointment I expected. It’s something more complicated. Like she’s working something out.
Or maybe she’s just noticed how badly I’m pretending not to watch her little brother.
“My father was the same way,” I say to Daniel and Brad before the silence stretches too long. “He wouldn’t touch a spinning rod. Said it was like cheating.”
“Smart man,” Daniel says, then laughs and raises his glass. “To fathers and fishing.”
I raise mine too, the whiskey catching the lamplight before I take a sip. It burns going down, but the sting barely registers, because across the room Rick touches Noah’s arm.
His fingers linger, and Noah doesn’t pull away.
Something ugly twists in my chest.
This was supposed to be simple. A weekend of pretending. A favor for a neighbor I barely knew and maybe had a harmless little crush on, no big deal. I’d help Noah save face, make his ex jealous, maybe even have a decent time myself, then go back to my apartment and my shifts and the thin wall between us.
I wasn’t supposed to start falling for him.
The realization hits with a sick certainty.
I’m falling for Noah Caldwell. Hard. At the worst possible time.
And there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Connor,” Daniel says, pulling me out of my head again. His voice is quieter this time. “I want to thank you.”
I look at him, confused. “For what?”
He gives me a small smile.
