Page 69 of Aria

The only problem was, I had nowhere to go.

“Thank you for the pancakes,” I told him, pushing myself away from the table. My shift at The Pit Stop didn’t start for another four hours, but maybe I could clock-in early, considering my leisurely morning plan of playing dinosaurs and board games with Sam had just disintegrated.

I debated going to the condo in hopes of a joyful reunion with Devon, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of his possible rejection—not yet.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Noah interjected as I stood from the chair. “You didn’t finish eating. Please sit.”

My palms were sticky with syrup. I rubbed them against the front of my jeans and massaged the tiny balls of fibers that had transferred over between my fingertips. I considered it. More time with Sam and Noah was never time I regretted.

However, I knew my lingering presence was only confusing little Sam. Distance might be for the best.

“Thanks,” I replied. “But you’re right… I should go.” I watched as Noah rose from his seat, either in protest or to walk me to the door, but I held out a hand to halt his efforts. “I can let myself out. I appreciate everything you did for me.”

Turning away, I walked through the kitchen to the living room, snatching up my purse that was draped over the back of the couch. As I approached the front door, I felt a hand curl around my wrist before I could reach for the handle. I spun around, startled.

“I don’t want you to think you can’t come back.”

My breath hitched as I stared up at Noah. His eyes were solemn, as if he needed confirmation that he hadn’t scared me away for good—that theybothhadn’t scared me away for good.

“I’ll be back.” A forced grin settled in place as I finished, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

It was the truth. I had tried to stay away, but I’d missed Sam.

I’d missed them both.

“You have a place here… if you ever need it,” Noah murmured softly. He took another step toward me.

If things don’t work out with Devon.

“I know,” I swallowed, pushing the thoughts out of my mind. I reached out to give Noah’s hand a gentle squeeze before turning to open the door. “Tell Sam I said goodbye.”

I hesitated briefly. It was the slightest pause, and one Noah may not have even noticed.

But I noticed.

Something ignited deep inside my bones. It was only a fraction of a second, but the feeling surged through me, leaving me rattled.

Remnants of it still lingered during my impromptu coffee date with Lisa later that morning. We had talked about new books we’d read, the good shows on Netflix, and our plans for the following week. Despite the easy conversation, every so often, I would drift away and ponder that moment.

As I walked into work that afternoon, my mind wandered, and I forgot my punch-in code. I was distracted, my thoughts cloudy.

“You’re late,” Jerry admonished. The pungent smell of his body odor assaulted me as he stormed by.

I fumbled with the keypad, finally regaining my senses.5609—the street number of my childhood home.

Yes, that was it. How could I forget? That place held my most precious and beloved memories. That house had my dreams and aspirations carved into its plaster walls. It was my first real home.

And that was why I was so shaken. That was why my mind kept recycling that moment over and over again.

Home.

For one alarming and consequential second…

Noah had felt like home.

* * *

It was a slow night at The Pit Stop. Tips were unkind, the music made my head throb, and Jerry was on a roll. I glanced up at the band playing on stage and recalled the night I’d met Freeze Frame for the first time—the night I had locked eyes with Devon Sawyer and my life was irrevocably changed.

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