I snatch his phone from his hand. “See? Trouble. Both ofthem get girlfriends and now they think everyone needs one.”
Loving sighs. “No trouble here, just trying to make you see the light.”
“Please,” I laugh at him. “Saints live in the light.”
Noelle leans forward, her voice smooth and teasing. “Hope I don’t get blinded by that light.”
“Would you rather be in the dark?” I question.
Loving groans. “Jesus Christ, get a room. Or at least let me order dessert first.”
“Already got dessert,” Soba says, eyeing Scottie as she steals a fry off his plate.
Noelle clears her throat. “So, off the record, of course, tell me about your boy.” She passes me a glance and sits back in the booth, her thigh brushing mine. I pretend I don’t notice.
Loving claps his hands and laughs. “Now we’re talking. Let me tell you about this guy.”
I lean my head back and sigh out loud. “Bruh, just remember, whatever you say, I've got stories to match.”
Soba chuckles. “Do we want to talk about that homecoming weekend, senior year in high school? Or do we skip right to the good shit at Zeiders?”
“Let me say it again: I’ve got the same stories. Everything I did, you both were right there with me. Now think about it, do you want any of that in an article?”
They both sober, look at each other, and say “Nahhhh!” at the same time, and our table doubles over in laughter.
This right here is what I've been missing. Sure, I love my team. They include me. I’ve made friends with Starks, Garrison, and Jameson …but there's something about being with your friends that you've known from the start—the ones who have been there through every win and loss, year after year.
I miss it.
I miss them.
“Noelle,” Scottie says, grinning, “you sure you wanna sit amongst the saints of sarcasm?”
Noelle’s eyes flick to mine. “I don’t know. I’ve heard one of them prefers to be a sinner.”
I choke slightly on my drink while Soba and Loving howl. “Oh, she’s got your number, Saint!” Soba says.
They’ve no idea, but this game she’s playing right now? I’m here for it. I lean forward, elbows on the table, locking eyes with her. “Depends what she plans to do with it.”
She doesn’t blink. “Delete it.”
“You won’t,” I murmur, and she smirks before taking a slow sip of her drink, tongue catching the salt on the rim this time.
She knows what she’s doing.
Hell, she’sexcellentat it.
This,” Scottie says, shaking her head, “is why grown men shouldn’t sit together unsupervised.”
Valentina, Nico’s girlfriend, raises her glass. “Amen.”
Noelle’s foot brushes my leg under the table. Once. Then again. I freeze mid-sip, heartbeat punching harder than it should. She doesn’t look at me; she just keeps talking, calm and sweet with the girls, like she’s not casually undoing me one inch at a time.
“You okay, Saint?” she asks, finally glancing up.
“Define okay.” I take a slow drink to hide the grin I can’t stop. She’s dangerous, and the fact that we’re staying in the same room tonight? I already know what I want to happen. She may not think I want her, but I do. And after tonight’s show here at the table? I’ve a feeling she’s feeling the same.
The conversation around us blurs. Soba is bragging about his New York house with its special room just for Scottie to paint in. Loving is making Valentina roll her eyes at everything he says. But all I can focus on is Noelle. The way her necklace catches the light. The curve of her smile, that damn fucking strap slipping off her shoulder, and the heat still lingering where her leg touches mine.
