Page 11 of The Cinnamon Bun Book Store

‘And the clues are going to unstick you?’

Hazel’s breathy laugh sent a little thrill down Noah’s spine.

‘It sounds stupid.’

‘Not stupid.’

‘I just want to have a fun summer. What’s left of it anyway.’

‘Well, you hired the right guy.’

‘I’m not paying you.’

Noah laughed. ‘Good. That would make me feel dirty.’

Hazel smacked his arm, tipping into him slightly before righting herself. ‘Wait, how old are you?’ she asked, like this was suddenly very important. He liked tipsy Hazel. She was more honest. And looked at him less like she didn’t understand what planet he was from and more like she wanted to kiss him again.

He liked that a lot.

‘Twenty-five.’

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘Noooo...’

‘No?’

‘No, you cannot be twenty-five! God, now I’m a lecherous old lady!’

‘If lecherous means you want to get in my pants, I’m totally fine with it.’

Another playful smack, another delicious Hazel giggle.

‘And almost thirty is not old.’

‘It’s a lot older than twenty-five. And if you ask most of my friends they’d tell you I act more like I’m seventy.’

‘Your friends? Logan talks to animals, Jeanie can’t decide if she lives here or in her own apartment, and Annie is engaged in a one-sided feud with the owner of the only good bar in town. These friends should not be telling you how to behave, Haze.’

She was laughing again, doubling over with giggles now, her hair falling into her face. ‘What I want to know,’ she said, between gasping breaths, ‘is do the animals talk back?’

Noah took another swig of wine. ‘Oh God, I hope not.’

‘I love them, though,’ she said, her giggles petering out.

‘Of course you do. I just meant, don’t let them dictate how you think about yourself.’

‘Very wise for someone so young.’

Noah huffed and nearly protested but Hazel was leaning into him now, the side of her body pressed against the side of his and he couldn’t form sentences or complete thoughts so he just took another sip of wine and then passed her the bottle.

She took a sip too and sighed. Her head was nearly on his shoulder, her soft curls brushing against his chin.

‘What’s this one from?’ Her finger traced lightly over the tattoo of a scorpion on the inside of his forearm. Noah shivered.

‘Senior year of high school. Thought it would look cool and impress a girl.’

‘Did it?’ The question was soft and sleepy. Her finger was still tracing his arm and Noah had to force his brain to think.

‘Look cool? Not really. Impress the girl? Yes.’