Don't Let Go(29)

“Hope you didn’t get in too much trouble,” I said, cutting another glance his way.
His face tightened a little and he handed the lady a ten and held up a hand to let her know to keep the change. “It’s all good, Jules.”
The woman grabbed my glass and stared at it as if she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to do with it. “Ice please,” I said, reminding her. She jumped into motion, smiling at Noah, scooping one scoop of ice into the glass. “Extra?” I reiterated, and she huffed out a breath as if that just put her over the top.
He could have walked on, but he didn’t. He waited to walk with me. Why did he do that? I wanted to pour that whole glass on my head as I walked back to the table with Noah behind me. The look must have registered, because Ruthie clamped her lips together like she was ready to either laugh or beat him up. I reached for my chair to pull it out more but it moved out of my hand as Noah pulled it out for me. I paused and met Ruthie’s eyes, wishing he’d just go bring Shayna her damn Sprite and stay on the other side of the room.
“Ruthie,” he said as I sat and he passed behind me.
She smiled up at him with a smart-assed head tilt. “Noah.” She nodded at the glass and beer he held expertly in one hand. “No waitress on your side?”
His eyes flashed with the urge to spar with her. He picked up her drink and took a swallow straight from the glass, licking the salt from his lips as she shot him ice daggers with her glare.
“Nope.”
He set down the glass with an almost-smile and walked around the outskirts of the dance floor till he disappeared behind all the groping bodies.
“God, he’s such an ass,” Ruthie said, grabbing a napkin to wipe his cooties off her glass. “It’s like he’s still seventeen years old in an old man’s body.”
I chuckled in spite of myself, chewing on ice to cool off. “You think he looks like an old man?”
She gave me a look. “Hell, no, he looks like he was carved from stone. Which is amazing considering he left here looking like a pole.”
“I guess the Navy finds things that weren’t there before,” I said. “He was supposedly a badass.”
“Well, you just be careful,” she said, seriousness back in her tone.
I frowned, trying to pull her meaning. “Of—?”
“Noah.”
I started to protest, but then I took a deep breath and looked around. I knew what she was saying. “There’s nothing to worry about, Ruthie. We’re all adults now.” Hadn’t I just said that to Hayden? “And he’s settling in here with Shayna.” The words were rancid on my tongue.
“Mmm, yeah, I can see how settled he is,” she said, sarcasm lacing her tone. “And I’m willing to bet she can see it, too.”



Chapter 8

We’d had Patrick, Hayden, and Noah so far, and I felt better knowing there was no one else to crash our party. I was fresh out of exes—not that Patrick was an ex, although he probably qualified now. Ruthie’s husband was hours into zombies and I couldn’t see him dropping by the Grille.
Ruthie and I had gone out on the floor for a line dance I no more knew how to do than that last chip on my plate did. What I thought was a brilliant strategy of staying in the middle so that Noah wouldn’t see me didn’t really pan out. There weren’t enough of us out there for anyone to hide, and he zeroed in on me like white on rice.
Not as heavily as before. Just with his eyes, on and off, as he chatted with Shayna. Then he’d look away and give her his full attention. Of course, I might not have noticed it so much if I weren’t looking at him.
An old friend of Ruthie’s stopped her on the way back to our table, and I kept going. The relative aloneness at the table was nice—in a way. I could regroup and adjust. I saw a few people I could go say hello to, but I didn’t want to. My mind still reeled from the news about Becca, and the few times I saw Hayden he looked more and more irritated. My guess was that his liquid cure-all wasn’t working. Becca texted me twice with updates, one being a picture of the whole group of them. Two were boys, and I zoomed the photo up, studying them and sending them subliminal warnings. All I could think of was history repeating itself. It was not going to be a pleasant conversation with her, and every angle I thought up ended in a screaming fight.
A slow song came on, and as I glanced around to make sure Hayden wasn’t gunning for me, I got an eyeful of Noah and Shayna on the dance floor instead. Wrapped in each other’s arms, her head tilted back to smile up at him lovingly.
I was hit with a gut kick and a burn that set my whole chest on fire. I looked away and gulped down my third glass of water, refusing to watch that. Look away, idiot. He’s not yours to get possessive over.
“Shit,” I muttered, turning back in spite of myself. They were laughing about something, and he tucked a stray piece of perfect hair behind her ear. “Okay,” I said, bolting to my feet, needing something to do.
I walked to the bar, my skin feeling like it had taken on a life of its own.
“Can I order food here?” I asked.
“Sure,” the lady said. “Do you need a menu?”
I shook my head. “Dessert—what’s the best you have?”
“The blackberry cobbler,” she said.
“That’ll work,” I said, nearly bouncing on my toes. I couldn’t be still. “Two of them, with ice cream.”
I showed her what table and made my way slowly back to it, taking in the view and understanding with a start what Noah’s expression had been about when he saw Hayden and me. Not that it made a bit of sense. We had nothing to be jealous about and no rights to each other—but at that one second I wanted Ruthie to come sit on me before I ended up yanking a pregnant woman out of his arms. I wrapped my arms around my middle as if that would ease the burn, but all that did was make me feel the trembling more. What the hell.