Page 7 of The Beach House (The Kissing Booth)

The next day we ventured out to a more public part of the beach, and the boys joined in a game of volleyball that Rachel and I decided to sit out.

Volleyball had never been my sport, but it really wasn’t so bad when you were sitting on the side, watching.

Especially when Noah looked even sexier than usual, what with the thin film of sweat on his broad shoulders, his dark hair flopping in his eyes, his abs…

He happened to glance over when I was staring at him through my gas-station sunglasses (which weren’t dark enough to hide the fact that I was checking him out). He winked.

“Oh my gosh, did you see that?” some girl squealed all of a sudden from behind me. “He totally just winked at me, right? I mean, that was so obvious, right? He totally winked at me.”

I looked at Rachel, who glanced back at the girl and raised her eyebrows at me.

“You should so get his number after,” another girl said. Rachel’s eyebrows went up even higher. I could see her holding back a laugh. “You have to. He was totally coming on to you.”

I turned round, and the two girls looked at me. They seemed at least two years older than me, probably in college. “What?” one of them snapped.

“He wasn’t winking at you. Just, you know, FYI.”

The girl snorted. “Sure. What, you think he was winking at you ?” She looked me up and down with the corner of her lip curled up.

“Um, yeah,” I replied.

“Oh, sure,” her friend scoffed. “He was looking at you. ”

“Well,” Rachel said, “considering she’s dating him, I’d say he definitely wasn’t winking at you.”

I could hear the girls muttering behind us before getting up and stalking off. I grinned at Rachel, nudging her.

“Who knew Miss Sunshine could be such a badass? Remind me to never get on the wrong side of you!”

That night, Lee took Rachel out to see a movie and go for dinner afterward. There was an art gallery opening in the next town over, so Matthew and June went there. Which left me and Noah alone in the beach house. I was swimming lengths in the pool when he came out and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Did you forget about the special surprise I had planned for you?”

Crap. I totally had.

“Uh…”

“I’m cooking dinner. Which, hopefully, I won’t burn.”

“You’re cooking dinner?”

“Sure I am. Everyone else is out, which means…we’ve got date night.”

The words date night were all I needed to get me out of the pool and into the shower.

I had no idea what to wear; my only pretty dress, the yellow one, was in the laundry. I had shorts and T-shirts, sure, but nothing I really wanted for a date, if we were going to call it that.

I had no choice but to call Rachel.

“You’re so lucky,” she answered. “I just went to the bathroom; I was about to go back into the movie. What’s wrong?”

“Noah’s making dinner and I have nothing to wear.”

I was really only after her advice about what outfit to put together and how to dress it up appropriately, since she knew practically the entire wardrobe I’d brought to the beach house.

What I didn’t expect her to say was “The white halter dress in my side of the closet. Wear those cute black sandals you brought too. Now I have to go—the guy at the popcorn stall is frowning at me. Bye!”

“I owe you,” I said, even though she’d hung up already.

Hurrying, I found the dress she was talking about.

I didn’t have enough time to do much with my hair, so I threw it up into a ponytail.

But when I looked in the mirror, I smiled.

I actually looked pretty good, especially considering I’d only had thirty minutes to get ready.

I paused outside the kitchen, though, taking a deep breath and smiling to myself. When I breathed in, I could smell Noah’s cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled great—if maybe a little burnt.

The kitchen light was off, but the soft light outside threw Noah’s silhouette against the glass doors. Still smiling, I walked out but lingered in the doorway.

“It’s not that burnt,” he said, looking back at me. “I swear.”

I laughed. “I never said a word!”

He’d changed since I’d seen him earlier on my way to shower.

He wore a pair of black jeans and a gray shirt that strained over his biceps.

Even his dark hair was a little tidier than usual—like he’d run a comb through it.

I found myself thinking he looked cuter and more carefree with it all messy, almost in his eyes.

But of course, he looked as hot as ever.

“You were thinking it,” he argued. “I know it smells burnt. At least you can’t really see it, though, because of the sauce.”

I laughed again. “Who knew you were such a chef?”

He winked, a smirk stretching over his face. “I’m a man of many talents, Elle, what can I say?”

“Don’t get too arrogant,” I warned him.

“Yeah, you’re right. Could give us food poisoning.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” I teased, and went round him to sit down. The food looked good—no, it looked delicious, and it actually smelled fantastic too. It was some kind of chicken casserole with vegetables and a thick reddish sauce.

The evening passed in a hazy blur of good food and laughter, my stomach fizzing every time Noah reached his hand out to mine.

After we finished dinner, we walked down the familiar path to the beach, which we both knew by heart (which was just as well, given how dark it was already), our arms brushing against each other. At some point, our fingers interlocked too. Hand in hand like that, we walked onto the beach.

The clouds had been gathering all afternoon and now blotted out the sky to a starless, inky black.

The water was just as dark, the white foam of the waves breaking on the shore.

Neither of us spoke as we strolled on the wet sand, the sea washing up and over our feet.

I was carrying my sandals in my free hand, dangling them from my fingertips.

Noah carried his flip-flops and had rolled his jeans up too.

And it was nice. Just being quiet, I mean. The only sound was the crashing water off to the side. You couldn’t even hear any trace of distant traffic. There was the occasional bark of a dog, though—we weren’t the only people taking a nighttime wander on the beach.

I loved it.

There was a grumble overhead.

I glanced up, craning my neck.

“It’s probably not going to come to anything,” Noah said, meaning the thunder.

We walked along a little farther before I said, “Thank you. For doing all this, I mean.”

“All we’re doing is walking on the beach.”

“No, I mean, cooking and stuff.”

He shrugged. “It was just a casserole. Mom’s recipe.”

“I mean it. This was a great date night. Thank you.”

I pulled Noah to a stop so I could lean up to kiss him.

Something cold and wet landed on my nose before I had a chance. Then another cold, wet thing landed on my temple, trickling down beside my eye.

Tilting my head back, I looked up at almost the same time as Noah.

Then those threatening, rolling clouds just ripped open, and torrential rain started beating down on us all of a sudden.

I let out a shriek of surprise. Noah was already running for shelter, dragging me behind him and going so fast I kept stumbling over my own feet.

The sand we kicked up stuck on my legs, and my ponytail was coming loose too.

The rain hammered down, soaking me to the bone. My hair stuck round my neck or was plastered to my face where it had come loose from my ponytail. I could feel my mascara running, sticking my eyelashes together.

We made it back up to the beach house, Noah ushering me in first and hauling the door closed behind us.

We were both breathing hard and dripping water onto the floor. Thunder rumbled again outside.

“You know you said this was a great date night?”

I looked over at Noah and we both burst out laughing.

Lovesick as it sounds, I felt almost hypnotized by him in that moment. Everything about him was perfect in my eyes—from the look he was giving me to the way he was so much taller than me, even to his crooked nose.

“I love you.”

He looked even more handsome with that smile in his eyes lighting up his face.

He didn’t answer me, instead stepping closer, his lips crashing down on mine and his hands cupping my face.

I didn’t need him to say anything, I realized.

Noah might not be as easy to read as Lee, but right now, I knew everything I needed to.