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“So, are you going to tell me what you did to get your car towed?” Noah asks, then adds under his breath with an amused snort, “Loser.”
Jason doesn’t miss a beat. “Says the loser who was sitting at home alone on a Friday night watching home baking competitions on television.”
“I’ll have you know that watchingBaking Battles: TheCookie Chroniclesis agreatway to spend a Friday night. Once you hit twenty-one, you’re all partied out. Okay, maybe not twenty-one, maybe twenty-two . . . or actually maybe not twenty-two, maybe twenty-three . . . or actually—you know what, I’m not the one facing interrogation here!”
I stifle a laugh as Noah turns onto a main road.
Jason ignores Noah’s statement, instead saying, “Turn left on Elm Road. Siena lives on Pinewood Street.”
Noah follows the direction, and I’m assuming he knows where Pinewood is because he doesn’t ask for any clarification. He doesn’t let Jason get away with the subject change, though.
“So, I’m assuming we’re not going to tell Aiden, right?”
“That’s correct,” Jason says.
Noah bites his lip. “I’m assuming that also means we’re not telling Chase, Mason, Julian, Anna, Charlotte, or Thea, right?”
Jason sighs. “Did you already tell them?”
“No!” He’s silent for a moment, then, “But I may have accidentally mentioned something to Mason while I was on my way to get you . . .”
“Noah!”
“I’m sorry! It slipped!”
Jason huffs, looking like he’s trying really hard not to face-palm. “Fine. I’ll deal with Mason when I get home. It’s the house on the left with the Mercedes in the driveway.”
Noah pulls into my driveway, and I’m almost disappointed that the ride is over.
So much has happened tonight: being pulled over, Jason calming me during a panic attack, having his car towed, being deserted in the middle of nowhere, Jason opening up to me and almost admitting something that I’ll never be able to unhear, and now meeting someone who clearly means a lot to him despite their playful bantering. It’s a lot to take in, and despite the overall horribleness of the situation, the night isn’t ending in the worst way.
Noah shifts into Park, and Jason removes his seat belt.
“Give me a minute,” Jason tells Noah, and I remove my own seat belt.
Noah waggles his eyebrows at him. “If you’re going to make out, you should take longer than a minute.”
Jason rolls his eyes and opens his door. “Shut up.”
He shuts the door, and Noah turns to me, urgency in his eyes. “Quick, before he comes back, I like you, so if you ever want to piss Jason off and win any argument, all you gotta do is”—my door opens, and Noah seamlessly switches gears—“really nice to meet you too.”
It takes considerable effort to stop myself from laughing out loud. I wanted to hear what he was going to say.
“Thanks for the ride, Noah,” I say, sliding out of the SUV. “I hope I get to see you around.”
“Oh, me too. I’ve got a whole photo album of embarrassing pictures of Jason that I would justloveto show y—”
Jason shuts the door, cutting Noah off.
“No fair.” I pout at Jason as he intertwines his fingers with mine. “I wanted to ask him for a sneak preview of those pictures.”
Jason groans, but a smile pulls up the corner of his lips. “Oh no. One Noah is enough; I don’t need you both ganging up on me.”
I laugh as we walk up the driveway and to the front door. The porch lights aren’t on, because clearly Dario doesn’t care if I get in all right or not, so we’re blanketed in darkness and the sparse light from Noah’s headlights, which aren’t directly in front of us.
“I like him, he’s funny.”
“Yeah, he’s all right,” Jason says, but there’s love in his voice. “I’ve known him forever.”
