Page 75 of Best Served Cold

He turned his lazy grin my way. “You good if I go get acquainted with her friend?”

“Go get ’em.” I slapped his ass hard enough he jumped.

River flipped me off and headed toward the girls, a swagger in his step and his head high. Hopefully Chanel’s friend could distract him for a bit.

The constant drone of music and loud noises pressed down on me as my thoughts drifted back to Noah.

Fuck it. Riv was set for a while. Might as well continue what we started before he’d bailed, ‘for a smoke.’

I upnodded the few partygoers who acknowledged me as I made my way through the house toward the backyard but didn’t stop to talk to anyone. Most of the people here were barely acquaintances. River was the one they liked. I was the twin they tolerated.

A crowd of people stood clustered near the door as they huddled around several ashtrays. The low din of conversation and the occasional tittering laugh punctuated the balmy air. Not glancing around, I walked through the small crowd and toward an outcropping of trees across the back lot.

When I was about ten feet into the woods, I slowed to a stop and concentrated on the soft sounds of the forest to pick out anything unusual. The snap of a twig drew my attention to the left. A flash of silver caught my eye as I headed toward the sound.

Bingo.

Noah was leaning against a large tree, his posture casual and relaxed. He cracked one eye open as I approached.

“What do you want?”

“I thought you were coming to smoke?” I said.

“I quit, remember? Or at least I’m trying to.”

I leaned against the tree and pulled a vintage metal cigarette case out of my pocket.

“Did you not just hear me say I’m trying to quit?”

“I did.” I flipped open the case and shook out the thin joint I’d stashed in there earlier. “Got a light?”

“You gonna share if I do?”

“Maybe.” I put the joint between my lips. “Light?”

Scowling, he yanked one out of his pocket.

I met his eyes and slipped the case away. I had a lighter in my pocket, but he didn’t need to know that.

He flicked the filament and held the flame up. Leaning forward, I touched the tip to the fire, keeping my gaze on Noah’s face.

His eyes filled with annoyance, but that was quickly replaced by heat as I sucked in my first lungful. The hot smoke rolled down my throat as the taste of mint overshadowed the usual musk of the weed. A muted pulse of awareness warmed my chest, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the draw, or Noah.

Still staring at him, I parted my lips and allowed the smoke to curl out from between them. It swirled around us and slowly dissipated.

“Go away if you’re not gonna share,” he said sullenly.

“Who said I’m not?”

“You’re in for a long wait if you expect me to beg.”

“That would be amusing.” I took a tiny puff off the joint.

“You’re an asshole.”

“So you keep saying. And here I was going to be nice and share with you.”

“You, nice?” he scoffed.

---