Page 42 of Wanted You More

I frown. “You’re no fun.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

He disconnects the call, making me sigh heavily before sliding off the counter. I hate when he treats me like this, but I know he’ll come storming into the house if I’m not outside when he gets here.

Finding my way back down, I search the room for Marybelle. I have no idea where she went, but I have a feeling it’s somewhere private with the boy who was all but grinding on her the entire time we were playing beer pong.

I shoot her a text and head outside, shivering when the cool air hits my arms. The bodysuit has long sleeves, but the material is practically see-through. Marybelle said wearing a jacket would ruin the look, so I opted not to bring one.

When I see the headlights of a familiar pickup truck pull up to the house, I blow out a nervous breath, wondering what Noah is going to say.

I start walking over when Noah climbs out and rounds the front of his truck. He’s not wearing a uniform, just jeans, a tee under his regular winter jacket and his typical stoic scowl.

He opens the passenger door for me. “Get in. I’ll take you home.”

I stop in front of him, crossing my arms over my chest, which leaves very little to the imagination. “Are you mad?”

His eyes go down the front of me before looking up to the sky. With a sigh, he peels his jacket off and holds it open for me. “You’re going to freeze to death. What the hell are you wearing? That’s basically lingerie.”

It is, but I don’t tell him that. I turn and slide my arms into his jacket, then turn and watch as he zips me up like I’m incapable. “You don’t like it? I think it’s sexy.”

His eyes close for a second. “It doesn’t matter what I think, Austen. Now get in the truck so we can leave. I don’t want to be seen here when the cops come.”

He watches me climb into the cab of his truck, then closes the door behind me and storms back to his side. When we’re both inside, buckled, and driving away from the house, I can’t help but ask, “Were you with Bailey?”

He doesn’t say anything right away, so I lean forward and turn the radio on. That way, it’s not awkward the entire drive home.

But Noah doesn’t like that. He turns it off the second it starts playing one of my favorite songs. “Quit touching things and sit still.”

“Youaremad.”

He gives me a quick look. “Yeah, Austen. I’m a little pissed right now. I was having a good night when you texted me.”

My lips waver downward. “Well, you didn’t need to come. I never asked you to. So you can’t be angry at me.”

He scoffs, making my shoulders tense. “If I didn’t, you would have gotten in trouble for underage drinking. Again. And God knows what else you were up to in there.”

What is that supposed to mean? “I wasn’t doing anything! I’m sure you played plenty of beer pong at parties before. Stop acting like you’re such an angel.”

“I did that in college,” he informs me coolly, giving me another disapproving look. “It isn’t the same thing.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re being a dick right now. I was having harmless fun. It’s not my fault you came here and ruined whatever plans you had with your girlfriend. Maybe you should stop and think about what that says about you.”

He slows the truck down and pulls over on the side of the road, putting it into park. When he turns to me, I want to shrivel at the harsh expression he’s giving me. “It says that I give a shit about what happens to you. Do you know how many times people get drugged and raped at parties like that? Especially when people dress likethat.”

“Did you seriously just imply that women are asking for it because of what they wear?” I doubt, gaping at him.

He scrapes a hand through his hair. “No! Christ, that’s not what I meant. You look good, that’s all I’m saying. Guys notice, and teenage boys especially will do whatever the fuck they want because they don’t think. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt more than you already have been in life.”

I blink slowly. “You think I look good?”

My ego gets a nice little stroke from that, and my heart does a happy dance in my chest.

If I’m not mistaken, his cheeks darken. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know what you look like in that. I’m sure that’s why you wore it.”

His hand drops from his hair to the back of his neck, squeezing once.

I unbuckle and scoot over, leaning in to give him a hug. “Thanks for looking out for me. I appreciate it even when I don’t act like I do.”

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