I’ve never been able to tell if Noah really loves the law, or if he just majors in it because his dad is a judge and wants the same path followed by his son. He’s at a lot of the same charity dinners as my father and watching him with Noah usually give me hives. He’s an intense guy, and I can only imagine what it’d be like to be his son.
As much as I secretly want my parents around more, I’d never wish for one as overbearing as Noah’s dad.
“You have some decisions to make, right? Which internships are going to help you the most, which law schools are going to be the best fit...” I watch as his expression darkens just a little bit. “And then there’s what you actually want to do.”
Startled, he looks up at me. “What?”
“Well don’t you two look cozy?” Bryn’s sassy drawl interrupts my train of thought as she sinks onto Jaxon’s lap on the couch nearby. “And speaking of cozy…”
Her mouth spreads into a sneaky smile, and I groan on the inside. She glances at Noah before dragging her gaze back to meet mine. “Have you hung out with the bad boy since we last left you with him?”
The set of Noah’s mouth goes rigid and Jaxon rolls his eyes. Leave it to Bryn to bring up the most uncomfortable conversation possible, because in her world, awkward just adds to the fun.
I force a smile and add heaviness to my words. “We don’t have to talk about that right now, Bryn.”
The way I spit her name is her clue, but she doesn’t grab it.
“Oh, come on, Ny. We’re all friends here. And Noah doesn’t mind a little competition, do you, Noah?” She gestures toward Noah, whose upright posture on the chaise tells me exactly how he feels about competition.
But, turning to me, he offers a cocky grin. “Healthy competition is my specialty.”
And don’t we all know how true that is?
I glance between my three friends, the sympathy in Jaxon’s eyes warring with the avid curiosity in Bryn’s. Noah’s are just gleaming with determination. I inhale a sharp intake of breath before letting it out slowly, brushing a chunk of my black hair back over my shoulder.
“Okay. Yeah, I’ve seen Ace since. He came to the house last night and we hung out for a bit.”
Noah’s wheels visibly turn, and I can see him mulling over the question in his mind. Was Ace with me this morning before he came to pick me up?
I stare at Bryn as she opens her mouth to speak again.
“And are we planning on seeing Ace again?” Her question is full of straight-up glee.
“Probably.” I sigh, knowing I can’t force this line of questioning to end any sooner than Bryn wants it to.
She presses her lips together in silent glee.
Noah meets my gaze. “Really, Ny? I don’t want to get into your business, but…remember what I said before. You don’t know him. Be careful.”
I search his clear-blue eyes, wondering if his sincerity is real. It seems to be; there’s nothing there but genuine concern.
Jaxon finally speaks. “Yeah, Ny. He runs that gambling ring, and I asked around about him. He grew up in that trailer park on the other side of uptown. I’ve heard some stuff, about him losing his temper and putting a dude in the hospital, and that wasn’t too long ago. And knowing someone like him, it probably isn’t the first time. Just watch yourself.”
Standing, I search the room. The overwhelming sensation of being a cornered animal is taking over, and I nod at them all before I head for the door.
“Thanks for the concern,” I toss over my shoulder. “Be back in a few.”
“Aw, Ny,” whines Bryn. “We were just—”
But I don’t hear what she was “just” doing because her voice fades as I enter kitchen. I head for the backyard, shutting the patio door behind me and breathing in a sigh of the fall air around me.
Evening has fallen, and the fraternity house backyard looks beautiful and professionally landscaped in the dusky orange light. Perching on the edge of a comfortable chair, I stare out at the thickness of fiery-colored oak trees clustered past the manicured lawn.
Bryn didn’t mean to piss me off, but she did. What was she thinking, bringing up that conversation with Noah and Jaxon sitting there? Jaxon usually keeps his opinions to himself, but apparently he couldn’t help himself today. Apparently, Ace is a polarizing topic for my friends, and I’m already over it.
Beyond over it.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot a quick text to Ace.
What are you doing?
His response takes a few minutes, time I spend staring out into the distance and taking deep breaths to calm my anger.
When my phone buzzes in my hands, I pull up his text.
Chillin in my friend’s condo uptown. You OK?
I consider that question. Am I okay?
I’m hanging out with my friends, who don’t understand my life choices. Not that they ever did, but it feels different now. A few days ago, I had a run-in with honest-to-goodness murderous loan sharks, or at least the loan shark’s henchmen. And the more I’m away from the one person I feel more connected to than anyone ever before, the stronger my pull to him becomes.
I must have paused too long, because my phone vibrates again.
Naima? Talk to me.
Why do just his written words send a pang of longing straight to the heart of me?
I’m getting ready to reply when movement pulls my gaze to the trees beyond the flat grass pasture of the backyard. I take a step in that direction, my eyes crinkling, squinting, to try and decipher what I just saw. My steps falter when my phone is snatched away and a gloved hand claps over my mouth from
