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And this one takes the cake.

I give Noah the address, and he drives to the restaurant. My palms begin to sweat as we get close. After all, Ethan owns the place, and he knows I left my car here.

We pull into the lot. Just when I should hop out and thank Noah for his assistance, I turn to him. “Could you follow me home?”

His brows fly up.

“If you don’t, someone else might.” I clear my throat. “And I don’t have my phone.”

Noah’s expression becomes suspicious, and I know he doesn’t believe the lie I told him earlier. “Yeah, okay.”

I give him a grateful-but-mortified smile and step out. My car lets out a cheerful beep as I unlock the door. It’s the one nice thing I own. My parents gave it to me as a graduation gift—before they found out what I decided to do with my life.

Noah rolls down the window. “I thought you had a truck.”

“That’s for work.”

He nods and sits back in his seat. I hurry, not wanting to keep him waiting.

The night’s events are fresh in my mind as I drive, making me jumpy. Thankfully, my brother left his porch lights on, so his house isn’t dark. Hopefully, Max doesn’t have female company because I’m crashing here tonight.

Noah isn’t giving off creepy vibes, but it still doesn’t seem like a brilliant idea to lead a guy I barely know to my empty house.

Noah pulls into the drive beside me.

“Thanks,” I say when I get out. “I hope it wasn’t too far out of your way.”

He leans out his window. “Don’t forget to call your mobile carrier in the morning and tell them you lost your phone.”

I nod, standing here with my purse clasped in my hands, wondering what he’s waiting for.

“Go on in,” Noah says. “I’ll leave once you’re inside.”

“Okay.” I give him a self-conscious wave. “I’ll see you ‘round?”

“Most likely.” He doesn’t say it like it’s necessarily a good thing.

My brother must have heard the vehicles because he steps out of the front door before I’m up the walk.

“Piper,” he says, concerned. His eyes move to Noah as he pulls out of the drive. “Who’s that?”

“His name is Noah. His family owns that little grocery store on Wildflower Street.”

“What are you doing here? And why do you look like you played in traffic for an hour?”

I push past him. “Make me cocoa, and I’ll tell you about it.”

Well…some of it. Max doesn’t need to know all the embarrassing details.

4

Max is stillin bed when I leave in the morning. I swipe one of his band logo hoodies to throw over my dress and pull my hair into the messiest of buns.

Exhausted from a sleepless night, I yawn as I pull my car into the garage of my house.

It’s notmyhouse, exactly. I’m more of a caretaker. When my grandparents retired and took off to explore the US, they asked me to move in. In exchange for free room and board and the use of Grandma’s old vegetable garden for my flowers, I maintain the landscaping and take care of stuff around the house.

They moved their stuff out of the master bedroom for me and stored extra furniture in the basement. They told me to make it my home, and that’s what I’ve done.