When in Rome(26)



Ugh. Thoughts of my normal life are bringing me down. Time to annoy Noah for sport.

“A cocktail dress it is, then! I have one that’s covered in sequins and has a slit up the thigh…I mean, I already wore it to Harry Styles’s birthday party, but I’m sure no one around here will mind if I’m seen in it twice. Plus, Harry loved it, so…”

I bite my bottom lip and wait.

Sure enough, I hear the heavy footfalls of Noah treading closer toward my door. “Don’t wear that. You’ll look ridiculous all dressed up.” No one can accuse this man of not being honest. He’s all blunt and zero sugar. He’s fantastic.

PS. I didn’t even pack a cocktail dress because I’m not an idiot despite what he seems to think about me.

“Just…wear jeans and a T-shirt,” says Noah, sounding like he’s being slowly tortured by having to act as my fashion consultant. Or maybe it’s just having to talk to me in general? I don’t know. But boy oh boy am I loving not having to act like a professional little ball of sunshine at all times. He thinks he’s scaring me off with his snippy attitude. Little does he know, I’m thriving off his surliness.

I open the door, revealing the outfit I was already wearing: jeans and a T-shirt and a kiss-my-ass grin. “Like this?”

He eyes me head to toe, scowls, and turns to walk to his door. He only opens it a crack and practically wiggles inside before closing it quickly behind him.

“Careful!” I yell at his closed door. “You almost left enough room for me to dart in under your feet that time!”

He growls and I smile. Two points for Amelia. Zero for Grumpy Pie Shop Owner.





Chapter 11


    Amelia


Noah’s sisters are unlike anyone I’ve ever known before. They pulled up outside his house and then honked their horn for me to come out. Literally. They honked. When I stepped outside, they catcalled and yelled, “Woo hoo, princess of pop coming out to Hank’s! Hop in the back with Annie!”

And by the back, they meant the back of their truck bed. If Susan could see me now, bobbing around on this pitch-black back road in the bed of a truck with no seat belt, looking like a popcorn kernel in a pan, she’d die. She’d just keel over on the spot. It’s going to be a rowdy night, I can feel it in my bones. My jostling, jerking bones.

Unfortunately, all this bumping around is starting to trigger a headache. It might be nothing, or it might turn into one of those whopping migraines I’ve started getting more frequently. My doctor says they are stress induced and that I should take more breaks. But I haven’t had time for breaks, so that’s why I have prescription-strength ibuprofen in my purse, which I fish around for right now.

Finding the little orange container, I discreetly unscrew the lid and take out a pill, using my spit to swallow it before Annie sees. I don’t know why I feel silly about this. It’s only a strong ibuprofen, but people tend to get weird ideas in their heads when they see celebrities popping random pills, and I don’t feel like launching into my whole medical history with the ladies right now. I toss the container back in my purse just as we pull up to the bar and Madison sticks her head out the passenger-side window, shouting, “Look out, y’all! Teachers gone wild!”

“You guys are teachers?” I ask Annie, gripping the side of the truck as Emily turns sharply into the gravel parking lot.

Annie smiles. “They are, but they’re on summer break right now. I own a flower shop right next door to Noah’s pie shop.”

Flower shop. Suddenly, the bouquet on his table makes more sense. “So you must be the one putting fresh flowers in Noah’s house?”

Annie laughs and shakes her head. “Sort of. Noah comes by the shop almost every day and buys a bouquet from me to take home. I think he’s secretly worried I’ll go out of business if he doesn’t.”

Uh-uh. Don’t you do it, heart. I feel you trying to squeeze, but I won’t allow it. So what? He’s a good brother.

Big. Freaking. Deal.

Emily and Madison unload from the truck and come around to let the gate down for me and Annie to hop out. When I look at Hank’s, my stomach jumps into my throat. It’s a smallish bar, in basically the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a gravel lot and stuffed to the brim. A neon sign flickers above the bar confirming that we’re indeed at Hank’s Bar, and there are so many trucks here that the parking lot is packed in like Tetris. Those who got here first won’t be able to leave anytime soon. Through the window, I can see that the bar is dimly lit, but there’s so many people in there I know it’s got to be breaking a fire code.

“Everything okay?” Annie says, stopping beside me and reading my nervous expression.

I swallow and gesture weakly toward the bar. “It just looks…busy.”

Emily comes up on the other side of me. “?’Cause it is. Everyone…and I do mean everyone, comes to Hank’s on Friday nights. It’s the only fun thing to do in the whole town so no one misses it.”

Oh super. Everyone stuffed into one building and me without any sort of real protection. What are the odds anyone in there is obsessed with pop music? Suddenly, I wish Noah were here, which is such a ridiculous thought in and of itself. I’ve only known him for a few days, but somehow I know he’d make sure I was safe.

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