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11

CHARLOTTE

“No one could rally a group of idiots the way you two did,” Elijah says, tipping a beer towards Noah and Desmond in the crowded kitchen of their off-campus house, aka the Baller Pad.

“Hey!”

“Bro!” players from the CBU team shout, a drink in hand to toast before the start of the NFL draft tonight. Noah and Desmond opted out of traveling to the televised event to spend it here in their home. One last hurrah.

There are easily fifty of us crammed together. A total 180 from the small graduation party Desmond had last week when Noah was gone. They cranked up the music when he called so he’d think it was some big rager, knowing he’d be irritated. It worked.

“Simmer down,” Elijah says, with a flick of his wrist. “My point is, you’re legends. It’s been an honor to learn from you. And it’s an honor to consider you both friends.” Elijah’s voice cracks. “Shit.” He turns away, wiping his face, and clears his throat.

“Anderson,” Noah says, his own voice faltering, trying not to show emotion.

“Whatever happens tonight,” Theo says, taking over, “no matter where you end up, we’re so proud.”

A heaviness settles in my chest at the thought it’ll be far away from here.

“Elijah and I have huge shoes to fill,” Theo continues, referring to them taking the reins of captains. “But thanks to your guidance, I think we have a fighting chance.” Theo and Elijah share a smile before he returns his gaze to Noah and Des. “And most importantly, us guys wanted to say we’re gonna miss you next year. Don’t forget about the little people.”

Elijah lifts his beer in the air. “Stingrays on three! One, two?—”

“Stingrays!” we all cheer, clinking our drinks.

Desmond throws his arm around Noah’s shoulder, and he returns the gesture. They both have wide smiles on their faces as Noah scans the room, bouncing from face to face. He shares a smile with Luna and Tony, and then his eyes connect with mine and his expression softens. Even across the loud, crowded room, his gaze sears me, pins me in place. It’s impossible to look away.

“Earth to Charlie,” Sage says, paired with a snap in front of my face.

I blink a few times and turn toward her and Sophia. “Sorry, just love seeing all the boys so gushy.”

“Mm-hmm,” Sophia snarks. “That’s what you were watching.” I roll my eyes, and they both giggle.

“So did your mom give your car back yet?” Sage asks, running her fingers through her light purple hair.

“No,” I say, releasing a sigh. “I haven’t even tried.”

“Why the hell not?” Sophia asks.

“Because I feel like it’ll be a snowball to her trying to make my life choices again,” I say as an arm drapes around my shoulders, and I glance up to find Noah.

“Mind if I borrow her for a minute?” he asks the girls, and my stomach swirls.

“Be our guest,” Sophia says, gesturing for him to take me away. Noah slips his hand into mine, and my skin tingles with awareness. He pulls me through the loud party, into his bedroom, and closes the door, sealing us off from the noise. My heart rate sputters. All those people here to celebrate him, and he wants to be in here, alone, with me ?

He releases my hand, and I amble around the space, taking it all in while trying to catch my breath. The only other time I’ve been in here was when we FaceTimed during the party last weekend, but considering I was trespassing, it didn’t really seem like the time to snoop.

A game controller sits on his desk beside a stack of textbooks that look sincerely worn in. Shelves of Lego sets line the walls along with unopened boxes. On his nightstand, photos of him and his mom, and a few with Tony, are placed neatly. A Polaroid taped on a wood frame catches my eye, and I grab it, looking closer.

It’s Noah and me at the beach, just the two of us. “I don’t remember this photo.”

“Sophia took it when we did that beach day last semester,” he says. “The one before they all played strip poker.”

“Oh, right.” I laugh, pulling my brows together. Noah and I weren’t even friends yet, but Sophia had gone around with her little camera, making everyone take photos together. She said she was “practicing” for her portfolio. “But how did you end up with it?”

“She gave it to me after you and Jonathan broke up,” he admits.

“What?” I spin around. “Why?”

Noah shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands against his jeans, anxiety written all over his face.

“You okay?” I ask, setting the frame back on the nightstand and tabling the conversation for another time.

“I’m freaking the fuck out,” he admits, blowing out a heavy breath.

I kick off my shoes and climb on the soft mattress, then sit criss-cross facing him. “Want to talk about it?”

Noah reaches toward me, hand hovering over my knee, then sets it on his own instead.

I wish we were back in the tent.

Reality didn’t exist there.

“The draft starts in thirty minutes,” he says hesitantly.

As if I need the reminder.

“Is that why we’re all here?” I tease, hoping to lighten his mood, but when those green eyes flick to mine, a look of pure fear pins me in place.

“What if I don’t get picked tonight? What if I’m a second- or third-night pick?” His eyes widen. “What if I don’t get selected at all?”

“The guys—hell, every sportscaster in the country—have been saying you’re a first-round pick for months.” And it’s the truth. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Maybe.” He glances down, wringing his hands together. “Which means by the end of the night, my entire life is changing.” He looks up at me, uncertainty swimming in his gaze.

I place my hands on his and squeeze. “You have worked your entire life for this. All the sacrifices, long practice days, aching muscles, and battered bruises. It’s all been for this moment. You’ve earned this.” He flips his hands upward, and I entangle my fingers with his, ignoring the memories from our little camping trip fluttering in my mind. Ignoring how nice it feels as he grazes a thumb across my knuckle. “You’re one of the youngest quarterbacks to win a Heisman— ever. That’s a huge deal.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, but Charlotte, these guys are the real deal. College ball is child’s play compared to the NFL.”

“Well, you’re not a little kid.” A grin spreads across my face. “You’re a grown-ass man who plays football like a god.”

He fights a smile, squeezing my hands. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

“What are friends for?”

“Right,” he says, with a gentle smile, setting our hands between us, looking from them to me. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything,” I say, and mean it. Because right now, in this moment, Noah Caruso could ask me to wrangle an alligator, and I’d say, Where’s the rope?

“No matter where I end up, we can’t lose this.” His gaze is intense. Steady. And it makes my stomach flip. “You have to promise you’re gonna stay in my life.”

“Of course I will. You could be on Mars, and I’d still send you Martian mail giving you shit about what you ate for lunch.”

He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s my girl.”

My girl.

I allow one selfish moment for my face to rest against his hand. One heartbeat as his thumb trails my lower lip, causing my breath to hitch.

He opens his mouth, words coming out low and breathless. “I never want anything to jeopardize what we have.”

I swallow hard. “Me either.”

“It’s important to me. You’re important to me.”

“You are to me too,” I say quietly as the air shifts in the room, the stillness turning into a tornado of emotion I can’t decipher. He takes my face in his hands and pulls me toward him. What is he doing? My breathing stops, and I close my eyes just before a soft kiss is placed upon my… forehead?

He lets out a heavy breath. “ Mi fai impazzire. ”

I sigh against him. “As much as I love when you speak Italian, I hate not knowing what you’re saying.”

His gentle eyes capture mine. “It means, ‘I’m happy you’re my friend.’”

Friend.

That term we keep tossing around. An innocent word that feels more like a curse.

A damnation.

* * *

“That’s some bull,” Elijah drawls.

“Lame!” Theo throws popcorn at the TV as we watch some hotshot quarterback from the University of Minnesota clench the first-round pick from the LA Scorpions, one of Noah’s top choices. Noah grabs the ball cap off the table that matches the team mascot and chucks it to Desmond, who promptly stomps on it. The boys are in an uproar for him, but all I feel is relief. Los Angeles is as far away as he could possibly go.

‘No matter where I end up, we can’t lose this.’

His words echo in my mind. I promised him we wouldn’t, but 2,500 miles is a hell of a trek for a friend.

Noah’s leg brushes mine as he rearranges the remaining hats on the table before settling back on the couch. On his other side, Luna leans over, whispering in his ear, and he nods.

“What excuse do we have to go to the city of babes now?” Theo asks.

“I think you mean the city of angels ,” Andi responds.

“The only angel I need is you,” Theo says, winking at her.

“Barf!” Andi replies with a mock gag. “Your game is lacking.”

“You love it,” Theo tells her.

“Knock it off, Schroeder,” Coach Porter says, and Theo throws up his hands.

“ Buzzzzzkilllll ,” Andi tells Coach Porter, chucking a pillow at him.

Noah clutches his phone in his hand, his eyes bouncing between it and the TV. The Seattle Grizzlies are currently making their selection, and the Tampa Barracudas are next.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The room goes silent.

Noah stares down at his screen and blinks. Tony, standing behind the couch, places a hand on his shoulder and says, “Answer it.”

Noah takes a deep breath, accepts the call, and holds the phone to his ear as he clutches Luna’s hand tightly. “Noah Caruso.” All the teasing and talking comes to a halt as we try to overhear what’s being said on the other end without success. “Yes sir.”

More silence as all fifty of us stare at him, holding our breath.

“Yes sir.” Noah smiles up at Tony, who starts grinning too. “Absolutely, it would be an honor.” Noah clears his throat and squeezes his mom’s hand harder. “Yes sir. See you Monday.”

Noah hangs up, brushing his cheek with his hand. He places his phone on the coffee table and stands up, looking around at his old teammates, closest friends, and family. His eyes connect with mine for a moment, and my entire body vibrates with nerves. Please don’t be Seattle.

Noah shakes his head and laughs. “Looks like you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Goosebumps cover my body as he crouches in front of Luna, who beams with pride, and takes her hands. “Guess what, Mamma ?” His voice trembles as the rest of us hold our breath. “I’m gonna be a Tampa Barracuda.”

We jump to our feet, and the room erupts in hoots and hollers. Noah throws an arm around me, pulling me close, relief filling me at his touch as the rest of our friends barrel over. Desmond places a white-and-turquoise Barracudas hat on Noah’s head, and Noah glances at me with the brightest smile I’ve ever seen.

He was so worried about not having control where he ended up. Looks like all that dandelion wishing paid off.