Page 23 of Noah

“Deal,” I said, exhaling in relief. One crisis averted.

Although Ethan didn’t look convinced. And honestly, he had every right to be.

If he knew the real reason, he’d probably join Miles in shoving me near Jackson at every opportunity.

I couldn’t keep this up. A whole summit of avoiding Jackson, of acting like a total weirdo around him? It wasn’t sustainable.

Griffin was already onto me. I kept zeroing in on him like a guard dog every time Jackson so much as looked in my direction.

If I wasn’t calling Griffin over, I was magically appearing at his side the second Jackson took a step toward me.

Using Griffin as an excuse to avoid talking to Jackson had worked so far, but I knew it wasn’t foolproof. Griffin wasn’t always around, and I couldn’t rely on him forever.

And when Griffin wasn’t around, or any other person I could catch to have a conversation with, I was a mess.

Every interaction I had with Jackson was short, clipped, and just shy of being outright cold. I could see the confusion in his face every time I shut him down.

The worst part? There were moments—fleeting, terrifying moments—when I forgot why I was even keeping my distance.

Like earlier, when he’d been walking beside me, joking about that stupid stunt we pulled at Silvercrest all those years ago.

For a second, it felt like nothing had changed. Like we were just Noah and Jackson again.

Those moments were the scariest because they reminded me of everything I’d tried so hard to bury.

The sound of his laugh. The way he looked at me, like he knew me better than anyone else ever could. And the way I’d catch myself wanting to let my guard down, just for him.

But I couldn’t. Not when the success of the summit was on the line.

Ethan studied me for a moment, then sighed, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Well… other than my shifts at the pack clinic, I guess I can switch with you on anything else.” He held up his clipboard, showing me his schedule for the day.

Grateful, I nodded and quickly scanned the paper. My eyes landed on one of the tasks: Assist with food prep for lunch. I grimaced.

Not that I hated kitchen duty or anything, but the idea of chopping onions or scrubbing pans wasn’t exactly a break from my usual routine.

I already spent enough time doing that kind of stuff at Griffin’s bar. Still, seeing Colton’s name listed next to the task softened the blow.

It could’ve been worse. At least Colton was easy to work with, even if he had a streak of bossiness.

But the real win wasn’t the task itself. It was the breather it would give me.

A moment to catch my breath. No dodging loaded stares or pretending my heart wasn’t hammering every time Jackson walked into a room.

I needed this—just a little space to let the tension unwind before it ate me alive.

Ethan must’ve noticed my hesitation because he nudged my arm. “What’s wrong? You don’t like working with Colton or something?”

I shook my head quickly and forced a smile. “No, it’s fine. Thanks, Ethan.”

He gave me a skeptical look but didn’t press. “Just don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Chapter 7

Noah

In the kitchenof the dining hall, the clatter of pans and the low murmur of conversation greeted me.

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