Page 38 of Until Then

It’s one of the most heartbreakingly honest speeches. Vulnerable, transparent. I’m captivated.

“I’m sorry.” Finally, at long last, I speak the words. “I didn’t trust you after I found out. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”

“No. I understand how it took you off guard, I do. But right now, I want you to know the truth of what would’ve happened. I don’t play games, Hayley. I’m not clever enough for them.”

I laugh; it’s thick with emotion. “Memes, huh?”

“So many memes.”

“What else would I have learned if I stuck around, Pretty Boy?”

“I think you’ll run off if I tell you. I’m not cool. At all.”

I place a palm against his heart. “Uncool makes you the coolest. Now, spill.”

Noah tightens his hold on my waist. “Well, you would eventually find out I eat most meals like a three-year-old. My dad says I have an aversion to forks. I have a glass display case in my office filled withPokémoncards. Probably the coolest thing about me. Oh, and it’s next to my hand paintedWarHammerfigurines. I’m a late-night documentary enthusiast, and I listen to Norse metal music.”

I laugh, letting my head fall to his shoulder. “I think someone needs to do a spotlight on your collectable cards. Front page ofStarWatch Magazineor something.”

“No way. No one sees the cards.” Noah rubs his palm across my back. “Come on, don’t let me be the only uncool one here. Let me have it, Foster. What are the quirks?”

“Fine.” I slide my arm back around his neck and play with the short hair there. “I’m a ranch girl with hay fever and pop allergy meds like they’re Tic-tac’s. I collect adult coloring books but only color half a picture, then still display the books because they’re usually funky.

“I get so into audiobooks, sometimes I catch myself acting out the scenes as I go. And I was such an obedient teenager, my one moment of rebellion ended with me crying and confessing to my mom, then punishing myself by turning over the car keys and cell phone before she could even ask for them.”

Noah laughs. “What was the rebellion?”

“I pierced my belly button, but took it out immediately because I felt so guilty for not asking.”

“Straight to the piercing, huh? My friends tried to get me to smoke freshman year, and I ended up shaking so bad, I practically collapsed on the curb and couldn’t move. My dad was a cop, and when he pulled up in his squad car, I was convinced he was going to haul me away for underage smoking.”

“You didn’t even try it?”

“No.” Noah laughs again. “That’s how much of a rebel I was. Rees made up for it for the both of us, I guess.”

Noah tells me how Rees always carried the persona of the rebellious, bad seed. They were close, but he admits most of their family always treated Rees like he was on the verge of prison for most of his teenage years.

After a small pause, Noah admits he discovered only a few years ago that Rees was his personal shield against high schoolbullies, always pretending to be Noah when kids wanted to hurt him for being a theater kid.

Respect for his quiet, tattooed rockstar brother rises by ten points by the end of the tale.

We dance to another song, then another.

When it feels like my cheeks might burst into flames, I finally pull back. “Want a drink?”

“I can get them.”

“Bless you.” I slump into a free chair. “I’ll be rolled out of here soon if I have to wear these things a second longer.”

“It’s a good thing you’re partnered with me, then. I have tried and true secrets to curing aches and pains after being mauled on sets for the last nine years. Those feet will be good as new by morning.”

He leaves me with one of those sultry winks and drifts toward the open bar for a few bottled waters.

My pulse flutters. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so . . . free.

Yes, I do. Nine months ago, at a café, with a blueberry scone.

“Hi, Hazy.”

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