“Do you ever stop talking?” I muttered, tossing a pillow at him.
Noah caught it with one hand, grinning. “You love it.”
I rolled my eyes and sank deeper into the couch, trying to ignore the heat curling low in my belly. I hated how good he looked like this—hair messy, gray sweatpants hanging too low, that stupid smug smile that always made my heart stutter.
He was my best friend. My i***t best friend.
We’d grown up together. Shared secrets. Fought over video games.
And now?
Now I couldn’t stop staring at his hands and wondering how they’d feel between my thighs.
“Seriously,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “You’ve been weird all day. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
I should’ve lied. Should’ve made up something dumb and changed the subject.
But i
