Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Lu

Cody: Hug Emma's neck for me

Me: I willllll

Cody: Have fun with Noah Sad Boy

Cody: Enjoy that looooong ride to Denver

Me: Are you done?

Cody: One more

Cody: Don't let that back seat go to waste

Cody: Okay, I'm done.

Me: See you when I get back. Don't forget me on Thursday.

Shaking my head, I fought a smile and took a sip of my pumpkin-spiced coffee. My best friend was ridiculous.

The mid-September sun was bright overhead, and I pulled off the hoodie I'd been wearing all morning while working on my tiny back deck that faced the mountains.

The leaves on the trees at the base of the Rockies were starting to change. Bright yellows, bold ochers, and deep reds emerged beautifully. I took a deep breath and reveled in my favorite time of year.

My mom had loved autumn most of all, so maybe that was why it was so special to me. I baked snickerdoodles in the fall months and thought of her. I remembered painting pumpkins and walking the corn maze together—doing the cheesy tourist things that brought her so much joy.

This time of year was when my memories of her were the strongest and brightest, filling me up and squeezing my heart just shy of breaking.

I turned my attention back to the watercolor paper in front of me and smiled. I was working on something for Noah—a piece I planned to matte to go in his apartment. I fought the urge to laugh. He was going to love it.

It had been a long time since I broke out my watercolors. Typically, all the work I did for my shop was digital. But it felt good to stretch my creative legs this morning and dip my toes back in the water, so to speak. Creating original artwork was something I used to love. From painting at the kitchen table with my art-loving mother to visiting museums on every family vacation, that part of my life was special.

My background was in studio art as well as graphic design, but pursuing painting and drawing hadn't been realistic, according to my dad. He was right about it being more time-consuming and less reliably profitable. I didn't have a dedicated studio space or any connections to galleries. It was smarter and safer to keep doing what I was doing. I wanted to be successful in business, not just for myself. I wanted my father to see the work I put into my profession, but that hadn't been the case so far.

I ignored the shallow ache I felt when I thought about letting the creative side of me go dormant. But business owners had to make tough decisions. Maybe moving forward, I could occasionally get out my watercolors or charcoal just for me—not for profit. Paint and draw for fun like I used to as a kid before I decided that art was my path. Before I made it a career.

I liked my work with DeLuLu Designs. Yet it had been nice to work on something original for Noah—something special that couldn't be reproduced and sold to someone else at the farmers' market. He wouldn't understand the significance, but it was probably better that way. It would likely scare him off for good.

I could rush and finish the painting today to give to him, but I needed to pack and prep everything for my flight tonight. I was visiting my friend Emma in New Mexico for a quick four-day trip that we'd arranged a few months prior. Earlier in the day, I'd called Jimmy and arranged for Noah to drive me to the airport at 6:00 p.m. sharp.

Yes, it was probably stupid to have booked an evening flight just so Noah could be the one to take me to Denver. But I liked spending time with him and didn't want to put Cody out by asking for a favor. Over an hour's drive to the airport would mean that my BFF would need to request off from work, and I didn't want to make his life harder. Plus, he thought whatever was going on with Noah needed to evolve into "sexy, fun times" since we were both so "adorably smitten with each other." Cody hadn't met Noah yet, but I could only keep him away for so long. And he'd heard me talking about the Huber driver enough to sit up and take notice.

I'd only started online dating at my friend's encouragement anyway. He thought it was hilarious that I was falling for the guy driving me to all my first dates instead.

I rolled my eyes at that ridiculous assumption. I barely knew Noah. Yes, we were friendly, but sometimes it seemed like that was entirely against his will. And of course I was attracted to him. Noah was gorgeous—all grumpy and scowly with that messy brown hair, the permanent scruff on his jaw, and those amazing hazel eyes. We had fun together. He was easy to talk to and so clever and funny. His sarcastic quips usually had me doubled over, while his dry delivery didn't even make his mouth twitch.

We were . . . friends. And I wanted to spend time with him. So far, requesting a ride had been the only safe way to do that. I didn't want to put too much pressure on him and scare him off—like how he'd practically sprinted out of my apartment two days ago. Hence the Huber request to the Denver International Airport.

It was probably pretty pathetic and reflective of my failed dating life that I paid a guy to hang out with me. Oh God. Was this prostitution? Was that only if sex was involved?

I set the paintbrush aside and swiped a palm down my face. Shit, I was a mess.

Four hours later, I was packed and waiting on the sidewalk in front of my building with a bright purple carry-on when Noah pulled up in the Bronco.

His window was down, and he had one toned forearm resting on the doorframe. "Get in, Lu-ser. We're going to the airport."

My mouth dropped open, and I stared at him incredulously. "Did . . . did you just quote Mean Girls ?"

Noah climbed out of the SUV and reached for my bag. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, dry as dirt, but his hazel eyes sparkled.

"Oh my God!" I cracked up.

Noah got my luggage secured while I climbed in the back seat. Part of me thought about testing the limits and hopping in the front, but I knew that probably wasn't wise. Besides, if Noah really wanted me to sit up there with him, he would have moved his little travel cooler.

"So where are you going?" Noah asked as he settled himself behind the steering wheel. "You didn't mention a trip."

I guess we weren't addressing the awkward way he'd bolted from my apartment the other night.

"Just down to Albuquerque for a few days to visit my friend Emma. We went to college together. You know the Cody guy I've mentioned? Well, the three of us met at Western Colorado. Cody moved to Cozy Creek after college, but Emma got married and lives in New Mexico with her husband. Our schedules lined up, so I decided to take a quick trip. I'll have a ton of cards to prep before the holiday rush coming up, so if I don't go now, I won't get a chance."

"Gotcha," Noah replied to my long-winded history lesson. "When are you coming back?"

My instinct was to tease him and ask if he'd miss me. Instead, I went the cautious route and answered, "I'll be back Thursday, but don't worry. Cody will pick me up so you don't have to hoof it all the way to Denver to come get me."

Noah's gaze met mine briefly in the rearview mirror before he turned his attention back to the road and merged onto Highway 62.

I took a breath and said, "You'll get a break from me for a few days. That should be nice." I threw in a chuckle so I didn't sound quite as pathetic as I felt.

The silence stretched, and embarrassment had me shifting in my seat. Noah didn't say he'd be glad for the breathing room. He also didn't say he'd miss hanging out. Nor did he ask for my number so we could text while I was away. He just did this little laugh in the front seat that was more breath than anything else.

I was a strong, independent woman. I could ask Noah for his number—even as friends. I texted my friends all the time. That wasn't anything unusual. But, again, my thoughts drifted back to Friday in my apartment. The mere thought of pizza and a movie in my living room had him giving Olympic sprinters a run for their money. I'd gotten too close, too familiar. Asking for his number might have him dumping me on the side of the road and hightailing it back to Cozy Creek without me.

What could have happened to Noah to make him so skittish? A bad breakup, maybe. Did someone cheat on him? Maybe he was grieving a loss.

Noah would tell me when he was ready. Despite how much I liked him and how attracted I was, I could control it. If friendship was all Noah wanted, then that was okay.

It would have to be.

"So you're not missing family dinner tonight?" Noah's question jolted me out of my thoughts.

I cleared my throat. "No, we don't have them on a schedule or anything. Plus it's a pretty busy time right now for Cozy Creek High. Dad is the principal there. The students and the staff are preparing for the Fall Carnival fundraiser and the Fall Ball. My stepmother, Kimberly, is the chair of the parent-teacher organization and oversees the decorations and chaperones and all that stuff. But we do have my dad's birthday dinner coming up in a few weeks, so that should be fun."

Despite the disappointment surrounding that lack of dinner invitation, I was determined to make it a happy occasion for my dad.

"What was it like having your dad as your principal?"

"Oh." I paused, thinking. "I guess we didn't overlap much, honestly. He used to give me rides to school before I had my own car, but then we usually went our separate ways. I was never the sort of kid who broke the rules and needed to call in favors to get me out of trouble." That was more Ginny's thing. Senior year, she'd gotten caught vaping in class.

"Really?" Noah said, grinning. "You were a goody-goody? I figured you'd be prom queen, head cheerleader, and all-around troublemaker."

"What? No. I was an art nerd. I played softball until tenth grade, and Latin was my favorite class. I wasn't unpopular or anything. I had my group of friends who were all pretty good kids, and we just survived high school together, I guess."

"I can see that, too."

The sun was already behind the mountains, and the shadows were growing longer. The interior of the Bronco was getting dim, and I couldn't make out Noah's expressions as easily until the headlights from a passing car illuminated his face.

Wondering if this was a safe topic, I ventured, "What were you like in high school?"

"Busy, mostly," he replied. "I played soccer in the fall and ran track in the spring."

"Oh, cool. Do you still run?"

"Yeah, usually after I wake up, I do a few miles around town first thing. It took me a minute to adjust to the altitude, but I'm almost up to speed now. Why, do you want to be my running partner?"

I laughed. "Yeah, no. I don't do that. But I appreciate the vote of confidence. If you ever decide to try rock climbing, I'm your girl." I considered briefly, not wanting to stick my nose where it didn't belong, but then I just went for it. "One of my friends from high school actually, runs daily around town. Have you met Cole Sutter?"

At the shake of Noah's head in the negative, I continued, "He's part of the Cozy Creek Fire Brigade. A really nice guy. And he runs in all the local races. I could introduce you if you wanted. I think running is about as fun as a dental cleaning, but I'm sure it would be better to have a friend to do it with."

If Noah had more friends in town, maybe he'd be more settled. Sometimes it seemed like he was one strong breeze from blowing away. Like he chose driving for Jimmy so he could always be ready to roll out of town at a moment's notice.

"Yeah, maybe. Music or podcast?" Noah called suddenly, signaling the end of that conversation.

I ignored the twinge of disappointment I felt. "Music, if it's upbeat. Podcast, if it's murdery."

He laughed, even, white teeth flashing in the rearview. "Why am I not surprised?" he said, but he was still smiling. "Here. Pick something, Luna Lovegood."

While I'd been staring at him in the mirror like a lovestruck groupie, he'd tossed his cell phone in my lap with his music app open. I scrolled for a few minutes until I found an album I'd been obsessed with lately.

When the opening sounds of guitar strings filled the Bronco, Noah's eyes flew to mine in the rearview mirror. "I thought you said upbeat?"

"Most of the album is upbeat," I argued. "I don't care. I love it."

"Me too," he admitted.

"Then turn it up, beekeeper."

He did. And for the next hour, we belted out lyrics. I was louder than he was, but we had fun with it. We sang about dialing drunk and being homesick. Music filled the Bronco and carried us all the way to Denver. It made us shout our favorite parts and nod our heads in time together. And when the final song ended, I felt breathless. Linked with Noah through this shared experience. Like I'd never be able to listen to this album again without thinking of him.

The more time we spent together, the bigger our friendship felt. It was the ease with which we spoke. The way he listened when I talked and didn't seem to mind when we disagreed.

Making friends as an adult was hard. My friends from high school were people I'd known all my life. They knew my stories, and I knew where they came from. College was my first chance to really go out and choose who I surrounded myself with. There was a little catching up with Emma and Cody, but eventually, I'd learned about their pasts and what made them the young adults they were. But we had the college experience to solidify our connection. Late nights and parties, studying and inside jokes. Our lives merged in a way that felt like forever.

Outside of an education setting, most adult friendships were formed through employment and forced proximity. Those experiences bonded. I worked from home and didn't really have an avenue to meet new people. Tourists came and went in Cozy Creek, but it had been a long time since I'd made a new friend from scratch, so to speak.

Noah had so much history—twenty-seven years of it—that I didn't know. But with every ride, I wanted to know more. I wanted to hear all his secrets and soak up every bit of Noah Cooper I could.

For me, the idea of learning all the ins and outs of his life was exciting. I looked forward to it. But for Noah, I could tell he wanted to keep the past in the past. He was guarded, withholding to protect himself, and it made me sad to know that someone had given him a reason to be so cautious. I had marks against me before we'd even met.

Like magic, the car went quiet as Noah took the exit to the airport. I told him my airline and terminal, and we made the remainder of the drive in comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. My skin was buzzing pleasantly from the last hour we'd spent together.

I dropped the cash for the trip on the center console as Noah hopped out to grab my luggage. We met on the curb as traffic jerked and halted around us in the loading zone, streetlights casting everything in an otherworldly orange glow.

"There's no way that purse is making it on the plane," he said, eyeing my bag.

Giving him my best mock scowl, I hoisted my bag higher on my shoulder. "I'll have you know that this counts as a personal item."

Noah snorted. "Hope you took your wine bottle out."

I whacked him on the shoulder, and he laughed.

"Good luck in town while I'm gone. You should be able to focus on the task that brought you there."

He raised one dark brow expectantly. "Which is?"

"Cozy Creek has the largest population of slugs in North America. You moved here to study them."

"Ew. What? No." He looked horrified. "Is that true?" He looked down at the concrete like a slug might jump out and attack him.

"Calm down, nerd. You're in Denver, and you're standing on a street. Pretty sure you're safe. Also, I totally made that up."

Noah's glare was baleful, but his hazel eyes were bright with amusement.

With a tiny step forward, the toes of my polka-dot ballet flats were right on the edge of the sidewalk. Noah stood just below me on the street. The step up put us at eye level, and I decided to be brave.

"Can I have a hug before I go?"

He looked hesitant, hands tucked firmly in the pockets of his jeans.

Despite him being in town for over a month, I thought I might be his only friend in Cozy Creek so far. I knew I needed to play this cool, but I wanted him to know, in some small way, that I would miss him and be thinking of him. And part of me thought he might need this hug more than I did. Noah was so averse to connections, unwilling or unable to rely on anyone or trust their good intentions. I didn't mind his cynical nature, but I did worry about how his self-imposed detachment might affect him in the long run.

Just when I thought he might refuse my request, Noah straightened and removed his hands from his pockets.

Just to make absolutely sure, I added, "It's just that, if I die on that plane . . . "

"Oh my God," he groaned, rolling his eyes.

I smiled and then sobered to repeat dramatically, "If I die on that plane, I'd really like a hug before I go."

"Come here, you absolute corn nut." He reached out and snagged me about the waist. Noah pulled me in close and propped his chin on my shoulder while I wrapped my arms around his neck.

He smelled sweet like the yellow Starburst he kept in his cup holder, and his body was warm beneath his blue tee shirt despite the chill in the autumn air. I let myself squeeze him tight for six and a half seconds before I made myself pull away.

Noah was still smiling. "Have a safe flight, Lunar Lander. I'll see you when you get back."

"Thanks, Noah." I grinned. "See you."

He stayed right there on the street, hands tucked in the pockets of his dark-wash jeans while I wheeled my bag into the airport terminal. I gave him a wave before I walked through the automatic doors and hoped my expression wasn't as dreamy and wistful as it felt.

Noah's face was solemn again, the amusement from our conversation now just a memory shadowing his features. He raised his hand in return as I disappeared inside.

As I made my way to the security checkpoint, I worried that if I was out of sight and out of mind, what would Noah be like when I returned to Cozy Creek later this week? If I wasn't there to make the effort, would our friendship die in the beginning stages?

I didn't know how to show Noah he was safe with me. That I would defend his heart and keep it safe. I'd have his back. Because that was what friends did for one another.

And if a tiny part of me hoped to do more than safeguard his heart, I'd just have to keep reminding myself that Noah wasn't mine to keep.