Page 66 of Echoes of Us

“Atty, wait,” Noah called out, following me. He turned to my mom. “I’ll be right back. I just need to give him something.”

“What is it?” I asked as he led me to his room.

He returned with a small box wrapped in Christmas paper, holding it out to me.

A smile spread across my face. “You got me a Christmas present?”

“Yeah, it’s a little late, but yeah. I was going to give it to you yesterday, but after we talked, it felt like I was trying to buy you off or something,” he said, making me chuckle. He smiled and licked his lips. “Go on, open it,” he urged.

“I got you something too,” I admitted, and his smile grew wider. I carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a white box with an Apple logo. My mouth dropped open slowly. “Noah?—”

“Before you say anything, I want to point out that I’m a responsible spender. It’s possibly the only thing I’m responsible with. I can afford things like these and wanted to get you something you could use. I noticed you use yours to work out and train and all the insane things you do to keep that body, and I just wanted to show my support for that endeavor,” he said with a grin. “All kidding aside, it’s the same brand, so it’ll work better with your phone.”

Opening the box, I found a sleek new Apple Watch inside.

I was touched by his thoughtfulness. “It’s great, Noah. Thank you.”

He grinned, and I leaned in to kiss him.

“You can give me yours later. I have to keep cooking with your mom. I’ll try not to burn anything too badly,” he said, playfully shooing me away.

I watched him walk back down the stairs with a frown.

As I showered, my mind wandered back to the puzzle that was Noah Rossi. His lavish apartment, last-minute plane tickets, and casual mentions of his father’s wealth all started to piece together. The cold, canned beer at his parties, the pinky ring with a family crest, and his seemingly careless attitude towards money—each detail painted a clearer picture. Noah was essentially a twenty-year-old with no adult supervision and unlimited cash, struggling with depression and a drug problem. It was a recipe for disaster.

When I returned to the kitchen, the table was set for breakfast. Noah looked ridiculously proud of his eggs, and my mom couldn’t contain her amusement. We sat down to eat, and I set up the watch while Noah scrolled through his phone.

My mom noticed the watch and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s my Christmas present from Noah,” I explained, and I could sense her apprehension.

“Atty deserves the best. It was an easy call,” Noah said, smiling before returning to his phone.

Her expression softened, and she smiled before leaving. I kissed Noah’s cheek, and he moved closer as I wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Later, I gave Noah his present, feeling a bit self-conscious after his extravagant gift. It was a sleeveless hoodie, and he cracked up as soon as he saw it, teasing me about how it was more of a present for me than for him. He tried it on, and he wasn’t wrong. That night, he snuck into my bed wearing it. We barely got any sleep, tangled up in each other, whispering and laughing until the early hours.

The next day was the day before New Year’s Eve, and I had a reunion with my old volleyball team. We were meeting at Ezra’s house, and I could tell Noah was a little wary of the plan, but he still wanted to go. I told Noah I hadn’t come out to them either. Only Ezra knew about us, so he had to be subtle. As soon as I said it, I knew he would be in a complicated mood.

I hadn’t told Ezra that Noah was in town, and I could see his face fall as soon as he saw us walking towards his house.

“Hey, Noah’s here,” he said as we approached.

I gave him a warning look, and he rearranged his face into a forced smile.

“I hope that’s okay,” Noah said.

“Sure, the more, the merrier,” Ezra replied. “Oh, you know who made it? Chase.”

My heart stopped. “That’s great,” I said, noticing Noah glancing at me from the corner of my eye.

“Yeah, it’s great, right? The whole team is here,” Ezra said, leading us to the terrace.

Shit.

Noah held me by my elbow, his eyes probing mine. “What is it?”

Sometimes, I hated that he could read me so easily.

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