As if sensing my gaze upon him, his eyes cut down and meet mine, completely catching me checking him out. A cocky smirk crosses his face and I quickly realize this is his signature look. The one that brings all the girls to the yard. He doesn’t need any milkshakes, he’s doing perfectly fine on his own.
“You about done?” he questions, calling me on my blatant gawking.
“Nope,” I tell him, giving the cocky attitude right back to him. “Why don’t you do a little turn and give me the full effect?”
He grins and not a moment later, starts a slow turn that has me laughing out and completely missing my chance at checking out his ass. As he comes back to face forward, his arm settles back over my shoulders, making me wonder what the hell is going on. I mean, we’re way out of Monica’s sight now. There’s no need for the act.
I realize he’s leading me towards the parking lot and I start pulling out from under his arm. “I guess I’ll see you around,” I tell him as I start heading for the back gate, remembering who I’m talking to and not trusting for one second that he isn’t finished withhis little game of cat and mouse. After all, I did slather him with spaghetti sauce in front of the whole school. That’s not going to be forgotten quickly.
“Whoa,” he says, catching up to me and dragging me back towards the parking lot. “I said I’d take you home.”
“And I said I’m not a damsel who needs saving. I got my ass here and I can get myself back again.”
“Chill out,” he laughs. “I get it. You’re hard as nails, but babe, it’s just a ride. I’m not asking you to get down on your knees and get to work.”
I narrow my eyes on him and he holds his hands up in defense. “What?” he shrugs, clearly not seeing a thing wrong with what he just said.
I consider him a moment and I don’t know what makes me do it, but I see a genuine kindness lingering in his eyes that makes me want to trust him, despite my better judgement. “Fine, but I swear, if we get halfway there and you start asking for sexual favors, I’m diving out the car. I don’t care if it’s still moving and I end up with road rash from head to toe.”
“You know, I’ll return the favor, right?” he chuckles with a deep fire burning in his eyes.
“Nope,” I grunt, turning around and beelining for the back gate, I’m not interested in becoming Noah’s newest fuck buddy.
“I’m joking,” he laughs, catching up with me once again and pulling me back. “I promise. I’ll behave. I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
“Yeah fucking right,” I grumble, rolling my eyes, but nonetheless, let him pull me along to his white Camaro that sits front and center of the student parking lot. My eyes rake over it. I’ve never really been one of those girls who fawn over cars, but I can certainly see the appeal with this one.
It’s shiny and new. Not a lot of people in Haven Falls can afford the luxury of buying a brand new car and the fact that Noah has one tells me he’s most likely worked his ass off for it. Either that or he’s involved in something that I really don’t want to know about. Considering who I’m standing in front of right now, I’d go with the second option.
“Nice stripes,” I tell him, taking in the two, thick, black racing stripes that go right from the front of the car to the back. It’s no secret that Noah is into illegal racing at the dirt track in Broken Hill.
Jackson used to race there and I would go with Kaylah to watch him. I never knew Noah raced until I saw him, but to be honest, I couldn’t tell you if he was good or not. My attention was taken by Jackson. It was always taken by Jackson.
Noah unlocks the car with the key fob and a smug grin takes over. “The stripes make it go faster,” he tells me like a giddy, little boy, excited about showing off his favorite toy.
“Oh, really?” I tease, feigning ignorance as I go in for the dig. “Does it go faster than, say…black Camaros?”
Noah’s eyes widen, clearly knowing I’m referring to Nate Ryder’s Camaro which was destroyed in a wreck a little while ago. I have no doubt, there would have been a lot of competition between the two and judging by his reaction, I’d dare say it could be a touchy subject.
Noah scoffs, rolling his eyes before realizing that I’m teasing. “That Camaro is either in pieces or sitting in a junkyard somewhere, so I’d dare say that yes, mine is definitely faster.”