Six months later…
“I’m so nervous,” Noah says, fiddling with his tie. “Do I look all right? Will your dad kill me on sight? I can’t get this thing to sit straight,” he grumbles at his reflection, practically choking himself with moving the thing around.
I come up to stand behind him, taller in my heels, but nowhere as tall as Noah is.
I put my hands on his shoulders and run them down his arms until I gently pull his hands away from his tie. I turn him around so that I get an awesome view from the front and the back.
“Wow, Evie.”
I snort. “Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?” I ask, licking my lips and getting a taste of my peach lip gloss.
“Always a good wow. Always. Did you have to wear this, though? Your dad’s going to kill me with the way I’m looking at you. Shit.”
“Well, you look
