Page 81 of Aria

She bolted back into the kitchen while my eyes trailed her.

Rosa approached me, whistling in way that sounded like pity. “Oh, Noah. You’ve got it bad, muchacho.”

I scoffed at her, glancing around the room to make sure no one had heard. “I don’t pay you to analyze my personal life, Rosa.”

“No, I do that for free.” She jabbed a firm finger into my ribcage. “Tell her, señor. You must.”

“This is not a conversation I want to have right now.”

“Life is too short, mi amigo. There is only now.” Rosa shot me a pointed look before following Chelsie into the kitchen.

Damn her and her sage wisdom.

A sigh left me as I pushed Rosa’s words out of my mind and surveyed my friends and family. Miles and Lisa were munching on appetizers, a group of cousins were mingling by the dessert table, and my parents had joined Sam upstairs to fetch his arts and crafts bin.

Wait… where were Devon and Tad?

I migrated into the kitchen where the smell of fresh herbs enveloped me, watching as Chelsie and Rosa carried two large pans of homemade lasagna over to the oven. “Hey, where’s Devon? You two didn’t come together?”

She faltered, setting the dish on top of the stove. “He, uh… never came home last night.” She swiped a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of him all day. His phone is turned off.”

Worry pinched at me. “Really? Do you know where he went yesterday?”

Chelsie looked flustered as she shook her head. “He said he was getting drinks with Tad last night around eight. That was the last time I’d heard from him.”

Glancing at the clock, I noted it was a little after eleven A.M. It was possible they had drank too much and were still passed out. I nodded, biting my lip. “He’ll turn up.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed. This was Sam’s homecoming celebration after almostdying, and Sam was Devon’s godson for fuck’s sake.

Sometimes I really hated that bastard.

Chelsie smiled faintly. “I’m sure he will.”

The doorbell rang, severing my next words. Excusing myself, I headed toward the front of the house, wondering why they didn’t just let themselves in.

Running a hand through my hair, I pulled open the door and blinked when I noticed who was standing on the other side of the threshold.

I forgot I’d even invited her.

“Beth.”

* * *

Chelsie

I puttered around the kitchen island, mixing pasta salads together and slicing up French bread while Rosa pulled an apple strudel out of the oven.

“Deliciosa,” Rosa exclaimed, lowering her nose to the strudel.

Standing on my tiptoes, I pulled a stack of party plates out of the cupboard. “That smells incredible.”

“Muy,” Rosa agreed. She turned to me, wiping her hands on a decorative dish towel. A question glinted in her dark eyes. “Señorita, forgive me if it’s not my place, but I must ask. Señor Noah… you enjoy his company, yes?”

I stopped in my tracks, caught off guard by the query. “Um… yes, I do. He’s a wonderful friend.”

“Si. He’s a good man. An honest man.”

I tucked my lips between my teeth with an agreeable nod.

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