Page 82 of Stop and Seek
“You look fine,” Noah said automatically. “Stop sweating.”
He squeezed her shoulders, and she relaxed a little.
Max would always be Max. No matter how many people told her she looked like a high fashion, runway model, she’d find something she hated about herself. And everyone else.
Leaving Noah to deal with the fallout.
This was a waste of time.
He should’ve gotten into the car and drove to Theo’s when he had the chance.
The car ride back to Eunice might as well have lasted a hundred hours. Benji was MIA, and that left Noah alone with Max and Kyran, who seemed hellbent on screaming directly into each other’s faces the entire time.
“You have to be in more vids, Sterling. I will frickin’pay younext time.”
Max turned around in the front seat, her hands hanging over. “What? Did we hit a milestone for your little channel?”
“Little channel. Pfft. Show some respect. My presence is all consuming,” Kyran snickered. “We broke fifty million views. In eight hours.”
Noah barely looked up. He was chewing on his bottom lip, thumbing through his phone, eyes going back to the road every few seconds.
He’d texted Theo a casual “did you sleep?” earlier. Something people said all the time.
But when anactualreply came through—a thumbs-up emoji—Noah felt like he was having a cardiac event.
His heart did a little backflip every time his screen lit up.
Theo’s texts were short—yea, no, lol—but they werereplies.
That meant Theo was thinking about him.
That meanteverything.
Maxand Kyran were laughing, but it all faded to static behind the rush of blood in Noah’s ears. The only thing that mattered was the next message.
There was a real connection between them, even when Theo was sober.
Sure, Theo was distant, but maybe that’s just how he worked. Maybe it was a test. Maybe he didn’twantanyone else close.
“How you’re into the dude fromDead Poet’s Societyis beyond me,” Max said—and thensnatchedthe phone right out of his lap.
Noah’s hands clenched the steering wheel so tight the leather creaked.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
She was his friend. She was how he made money. They needed each other.
Max wasn’t the enemy.
Butjesusdid he want to launch her into oncoming traffic.
“What’s poppin’?” The side of Kyran’s head came into view when he leaned forward, looking over Max’s shoulder.
“Max, leave my pistachio turtle alone,” Noah gritted out.
“Your?”she shot back.
Kyran settled back in the seat.
