𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

𝟑

"Prove it," I say.

He shrugs off my words like he has nothing to lose, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone. Within the next few moments, not only does he call Marissa (and because he already figured my death grip on my suspicion can only tighten at the use of one confirmation-ist) he dials Emma's number.

"Yo, Emelia, I'm just checking in to make sure that our day off is a hundred percent set?" Noah holds my gaze almost challengingly, his lips set in a triumphant smirk. His eyes glisten with something unreadable. It's like he was saying, Yeah, that's right. I win. And I hate it.

"Emma," she corrects with an annoyed chuckle. I can see her tight-lipped smile now. "And yup. You guys are all set. Good luck, champ."

Noah hangs up the phone, no longer wearing that little smirk. He looks almost disgusted with that ugly grimace he now has on his face. It's ruining his pretty face.

He shudders. "She called me champ."

Now I'm smirking and he's scowling. We both know that I'm going to let that go. Not ever. Burglar Boy turned Champ. Nice.

I grunt as I struggle to grab a bag of chips from the top shelf in the cupboard, hating the way that I can see Noah biting back his laughter from the corner of my eye. Every day we spend together, the more I realize that he has a death wish. That's the only part I'm not complaining about. I'd happily fulfill that wish of his.

He barks out this hideous laugh, earning yet another scowl from me. Suddenly, I feel his body press into mine as he reaches over my head and grabs the bag for me, poking me in the side as he places it on the counter. I ignore the way my breath just hitches and how my body is aching to feel that warmth just one more time.

Someone, please restrain me.

Preferably Noah.

Wait, what the heck?

"You there, Summer?" He knocks against my skull before I swat his hand away like an annoying fly. That really is what he reminds me of almost ninety-nine percent of the time.

"No, go home," I grumble, snatching the bag as I stomp over to the couch where I then throw myself dramatically.

He Who Shall Not Be Named is still watching me, I can feel his eyes following my every movement. This guy's doing absolutely nothing and is still getting on my nerves. Like, literally, he's making me nervous. I'm praying that I'm not shaking as much as I think I am. That would be terribly embarrassing.

I hear him sigh. "Listen, Summer, you can't just be mad at me for the sake of being mad at me."

Ha, watch me, loser.

"So we're playing that game now?"

Yes. Yes, we are.

A thankful sigh escapes my lips as I eat away at the remains of the chips when I hear his footsteps moving for the hallway. I frown when I don't hear his door shut, scared that I made him so annoyed that he's going to kill me or something.