“This place makes the best breakfast rolls,” Noah said as he parked his bike. I unwrapped my arms from around him, missing his heat, and followed him to the van where he ordered two breakfast rolls and two teas. We waited a few minutes, and when our order was up, we went to sit on one of the nearby picnic benches.
I was coming to learn Noah wasn’t very conversational. He seemed to prefer companionable silence most of the time. I unwrapped my roll and took a bite. It was a heart attack in a sandwich; bacon, sausage and egg combining to make one of the most delicious things I’d ever tasted.
Noah grinned as he watched me. “Good, right?”
“So good,” I said with a little moan. Noah’s gaze heated, and a flush of embarrassment swept over me. Did he want me? The question both scared and enticed me. When he didn’t look away, I grew even more self-conscious. “What?”
“I like looking at your face.”
I swallowed down a bite of sandwich, butterflies thrumming. “Why?”
“For a long time, I didn’t get to look at faces like yours.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I guess I would take it as a compliment? I moved my foot so that it rested against his. “Thank you for cleaning up my room and for the new shells. That was very kind of you.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched me like a wild animal who was wary of being domesticated. He also didn’t move his foot, and I suspected he liked the contact as much as I did.
We finished eating in silence. I cleaned my hands and face with a napkin, unprepared for when Noah reached out and wiped a crumb from the corner of my mouth. He licked it off his thumb, and something in the very core of me clenched at the small, quiet action. The more time I spent around him, the more certain parts of me came alive in new and unexplored ways.
We climbed on the bike, and I wrapped my arms around his waist again. I loved his heat as he drove us back into town. When he drove onto Principal Hawkins street and parked several houses away from the one I’d delivered the party invitation to, I grew wary.
“What are we doing here?”
“A little mischief,” Noah answered.
Mischief? This couldn’t be good. I hurried to keep up with him as he walked toward Principal Hawkins’ house. Noah went right up to the front door, but instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, he pulled a small key from his pocket and slotted it in the lock. Noah pushed open the door and was about to step inside when I caught his elbow.
“What are you doing?” I whisper-hissed.
He cast me a vaguely annoyed look, like I was being dramatic. “I already told you.”
“I didn’t think you were going to break into my principal’s house! There could be people inside.”
“Nobody’s home. And I didn’t break in,” he said. “I used a key.” He held up the offending item, and I recognised it. It was the same key I found in an envelope in his drawer, the one he’d gotten from the school caretaker, Sam Ryan. Had he stolen it for Noah?
“You know what I mean,” I said, staring him down.
His gaze went to my grip on his elbow and back up to meet my eyes. “I thought about you,” he said in a low voice.
My skin tingled. “What?”
“On Saturday night. I thought about you in your blue dress,” he said, and my hold loosened, my cheeks aflame.
Noah slipped inside the house, and I swore under my breath. I knew he only said that to shock me into letting go of his arm, but a part of me wondered if it was the truth. The idea of Noah thinking about me like that made every part of my body come alive.
“Noah!” I whisper shouted as I stood on the doorstep. He didn’t respond. “Noah!” I tried again. The nefarious bastard didn’t answer, and, growing increasingly worried, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. No one was around, and it didn’t look like any neighbours could see past the neatly trimmed hedgerows surrounding the house. Not unless they were in the habit of spying out their upstairs windows.
Deciding to take a chance, I stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind me. This was an old house, probably built in the sixties, and luckily there didn’t appear to be any alarm system in place. Still, anxiety coursed through me as I made my way through the entry hall and into the empty living room. The décor looked expensive, a lot fancier than what I expected for a school principal. Everything was pristine, too, not a speck of dust as far as I could see. A shelf full of dancing lady figurines lined one wall. The principal’s wife must’ve been a collector. Or the principal himself. You never knew.