Page 7 of Noah (Pecan Pines #4)

Chapter 7

Noah

In the kitchen of the dining hall, the clatter of pans and the low murmur of conversation greeted me.

Colton was already there, pulling out trays of vegetables and muttering about someone who’d left the carrots unwashed.

“Where’s Ethan?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“We swapped shifts,” I replied, grabbing an apron from the hook.

Colton merely shrugged, and that was that.

We settled into a rhythm quickly. I peeled and chopped while Colton portioned everything into trays, occasionally barking out instructions like he was running a five-star kitchen.

He had a knack for keeping things moving, even if it came with a side of bossiness.

At one point, I picked at some leftover scraps—perfectly edible but too uneven to plate—and popped one into my mouth.

Colton immediately called me out, muttering something about portions and kitchen standards like I’d just committed a cardinal sin.

I laughed it off, not really in the mood to get into a fight, tossed the rest into the compost bin, and we kept working without missing a beat.

Despite his griping, it was good. Easy. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I could breathe—like I didn’t have to measure every word or plaster on a polite, professional mask.

For a moment, I caught myself wondering… could it ever be like this with Jackson? Could we find that same rhythm, that same ease?

I shoved the thought away, focusing on the task at hand.

As I stacked the last of the trays onto the cart, Colton stopped mid-motion, his gaze darting over my shoulder. His expression shifted.

“What is it?” I asked, turning to follow his line of sight.

And then I saw him. Jackson.

He was just standing there, arms crossed, watching us. Quiet, steady, unreadable.

The grin dropped off my face. I could feel my skin warm, despite myself.

Not from anything I’d done, but from the fact that he’d caught me like that—laughing, at ease—the kind of thing I hadn’t done around him in years.

It didn’t add up. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but it felt like I had.

I straightened, the easy warmth from moments ago replaced with something cooler, more polite. “Jackson. Something you need?”

Colton frowned, looking between us. “What’s wrong with you? You were fine two seconds ago.”

"I’m fine," I said quickly, brushing him off. “I’m taking a break, Colton.”

Colton shrugged. “Alright, but hurry back. Dinner starts soon.” He gave Jackson one last curious glance before heading to the walk-in fridge.

I felt Jackson’s gaze on me as he stepped closer.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I hesitated, my stomach twisting into a tight knot. I glanced through the window at the benches outside, looking for a familiar silhouette, then back at the door leading to the pack house.

Using Griffin as an excuse to avoid this conversation wasn’t exactly subtle, but it had worked so far.

“Griffin’s still in a meeting,” Jackson said quietly, his voice cutting through my thoughts like he already knew what I was thinking.

My jaw tightened. Of course, he’d noticed. He probably knew what I was doing this whole time.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Follow me.”

I turned sharply and headed toward the storage building behind the cafeteria, heart pounding in my chest. My palms were already clammy, and I wiped them on my jeans as discreetly as I could.

The faint smell of bread and roasted meat lingered in the air as I pushed the door open and led Jackson inside. Rows of neatly stacked boxes lined the walls, their labels staring back at me like accusations.

I needed to do something, anything, to avoid the conversation.

I grabbed one of the boxes, making it seem like it was the most pressing task on earth, and hefted it onto the trolley.

"You can just stand over there," I said, not meeting his eyes.

Jackson didn’t listen. Of course, he didn’t.

“Need help?” he asked, stepping in front of the cart, close enough that I couldn’t ignore him even if I wanted to.

“It’s okay,” I said, not even looking at him. “I’ve got it.”

He stepped forward anyway, picking up a box like I hadn’t said a word.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance, the sound sharp in the quiet space. “I said I’m fine.”

“And I said I’m helping,” he shot back, calm but firm.

We worked in silence after that—not real silence, but the kind that buzzed with tension, every movement charged.

My heart pounded every time I caught him in my peripheral vision, and I hated that I couldn’t control it.

Jackson broke the stillness first. “Is everything okay?”

I paused, my hands gripping a box. “What?”

“With you.” He stepped closer, his tone steady. “And with us.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve, my throat tightening as I turned away to busy myself with another box.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jackson wasn’t deterred. “It just feels like… I don’t know, like you’re avoiding me.”

I froze briefly before forcing myself to keep moving. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Noah.” His voice softened, but there was an edge of knowing that made lying impossible.

When I didn’t respond, he tried again. “Is it about Colton?”

My head snapped up. “What? No!”

Jackson raised his hands, grinning faintly. “Got it. Forget I asked.”

The grin didn’t last. His expression shifted, something deeper creeping into his features.

I let out a slow breath, shoulders sagging. “It’s not that,” I muttered. “It’s just… there’s a lot riding on this summit. I want it to go smoothly.”

Jackson tilted his head, studying me like he was reading between the lines. “That’s not all of it.”

My stomach churned. He always did this—saw through me when I wished he wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to distract you,” I admitted, my voice quieter.

Jackson blinked. “Distract me?”

“Yeah.” My voice cracked slightly, and I cursed myself for it. “Like back then. You always got caught up in my messes. Got hurt because of me.”

I didn’t say it outright, but the memory of the last summit—the one where Jackson had stood up for me—hung heavy in the air between us.

Something in Jackson’s expression changed, like a light flicked on. He stepped closer, setting down the box he was holding. His fingers brushed mine, the touch brief but electric.

“You didn’t make me do anything back then, Noah,” he said firmly. “I made those choices because I cared. Because I care.”

I looked at him, startled, but the earnestness in his gaze made it hard to breathe.

"You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault," he continued, his voice low and steady.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "You don’t get it, Jackson."

"Then explain it to me," he said, his tone softer now, almost pleading.

I hesitated, the words tangling in my throat. How could I explain what I barely understood myself?

Jackson stayed where he was, his stance casual, but his eyes carried an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “You’ve been dodging me since the summit started, Noah. I get that things are different now—we’ve both got responsibilities. But I miss my friend.”

His words hit harder than I expected, breaking through the walls I didn’t realize I’d been building.

The weight of everything I’d been carrying suddenly felt unbearable, and the cracks I’d been trying to hide started to show. I leaned against the stack of boxes behind me, rubbing the back of my neck.

“It’s not like that. It’s just… I’ve been trying so hard to make this summit work. Keep everything together. The pack, the responsibilities. It feels like if I slip up just once, everything will fall apart.” I trailed off, shaking my head.

Jackson’s expression softened, and he stepped a little closer, his voice low but steady. “You don’t have to do it all on your own, Noah. You’ve been carrying all of this for so long, but you don’t have to. I’m still here. I just need you to stop pretending with me.”

His words felt like a lifeline, steady and certain. I let out a shaky breath, the tension in my chest easing ever so slightly.

“I miss you too,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I just… need time.”

Jackson nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tightness in my chest began to loosen.

I looked up at him, a tentative smile forming despite everything. “You want to grab lunch together sometime?”

Jackson’s smile softened, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “I’d like that.”