My car’s air-conditioning left a little something to be desired, so I rolled down the windows and put on my sunglasses, grinning at Noah. “Here’s to the start of the best summer ever.”
Earlier this year, Lee and I had driven cross-country to Harvard for spring break. It had all gone by too quickly and it was a little rushed, but it had been a lot of fun. And right now, with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face and the radio blaring, it felt like I was back there, crossing off the thing on everyone’s bucket list and having the best damn time.
And speaking of bucket lists…I really, really had to make it up to Lee this summer.
I felt a pang of guilt that it was Noah here with me now, and it was starting to look like it was always going to be Noah over Lee. I couldn’t imagine how my life would be without Lee in it so much—and honestly, I’d kind of gotten used to Noah not being around every day.
I was starting to think of all the ways Noah might start slotting into Lee’s place in my life once this summer was over. Movie nights, trips to the mall…entire weekends spent beating our own high score on a video game.
Would it get to be too much?
What if living together made it all too much, for both of us?
What if we couldn’t even make it through this summer? Being away from each other had driven a wedge between Noah and me before Thanksgiving, to the point where I’d broken up with him. What was to say that being so on top of each other all the time wouldn’t do the exact same thing?
Come on, Elle, you’re getting carried away. Chill out.
I did my best to shake it off and looked at Noah again, admiring the sunshine highlighting his cheekbones, the stubble lining his jaw, the striking bright blue of his eyes. He caught me staring, and his lips stretched into a grin, flashing the dimple on his left cheek.
“The best summer ever,” he repeated, picking up my hand to kiss it.
Chapter Eleven
It didn’t take us long to settle into the beach house, leaving pure chaos in our wake where just a couple of days before, we’d left everything so wonderfully neat and tidy.
So much for clearing the place out, I thought wryly.
After dumping our bags (and promptly wrecking the place), the four of us headed to the nearest Target.
“Don’t you think this is a little too much food?” Rachel asked, inspecting the overflowing cart as we got to the checkout.
“Have you seen these guys eat? Lee will eat that entire box of doughnuts in five minutes.”
“Please,” Noah scoffed. “I could do it in four.”
“Yeah?” Lee jabbed a finger in my direction. “Shelly could do it in three. That girl can eat. Rach, believe me, we’ll be back here in a couple of days having to do this all again.”
It was probably a slight exaggeration. Maybe in, like, four days.
Rachel placed herself in charge of putting away groceries. Lee was blowing up a pool raft outside—where she could keep an eye on him and stop him from digging into the snacks before she could even get them out of the grocery bags. Noah had set up some speakers, and a playlist began blasting through the entire house.
Meanwhile, I had taken myself and my suitcase down the hallway, past the wall of photos, to…Noah’s room. Well, I guessed it was our room now. Lee and Rachel were taking his parents’ room, since ours only had two single beds in it. They’d get their own bathroom that way, too, we’d figured. It made sense.
But it was still weird as hell to be unpacking my things into Noah’s room, not mine and Lee’s.
When Noah came back into the bedroom, his task done, he looked at me strangely. His eyebrows began to knit together, and his lower lip stuck out like he was deciding whether to say something.
“What?”
“It’s just…that’s my side of the bed.”
I looked back at the bedside cabinet I was filling up, frowning. “No, it’s not.”
“Uh, yeah, it is.”
I stepped back, scrutinizing the bed and comparing it to his back home. Huh. I guessed he was right. It was his side, but—
“But I don’t like to sleep by the window.”
His mouth worked like he was debating arguing over it, but he shrugged. “Sure.”
“Well, I…I can move, if—”
“No, no, it’s cool. You take that side.”
“You sure?”
He’d better be sure.
“Yeah.” He smiled at me. “Definitely.”
He didn’t sound very definite, but I had my win, and I was going to take it. I had to compromise when Noah took almost every hanger in the closet and almost all the space, though, so it felt fair in the long run.
Even if he did huff and give me a look when I took the top drawer in the dresser. And even when he took up, like, all the bathroom space.
But that was what relationships were about, wasn’t it? Compromise. It wasn’t about being selfish. And we’d have to figure it out if we were going to live together over the summer in Boston, like Noah had suggested—and like I maybe wanted to.
Since we’d all skipped lunch, we made dinner early. Lee and I took charge and made tacos—although, admittedly, it was mostly Lee doing the cooking, while I chopped up vegetables and salad and laid the table outside.
We were just sitting down to dinner when Noah disappeared back into the house, before reappearing with four cups and a bottle of champagne—which the rest of us greeted with a loud chorus of cheers.
“I swiped it from Mom and Dad,” he explained, undoing the metal twist around the cork. “They had, like, a dozen. They won’t miss it.”
He readjusted his hold on the bottle to remove the cork.
Pop!
Excitement danced through me, like the bubbles in the champagne Noah was pouring into glasses for us. He set the bottle down and raised his glass in a toast.
“Here’s to the summer!”
“Our last and best summer at the beach house!” Lee concurred, and the four of us cheered and whooped and clinked our glasses together.
We sat down to dinner, sipping champagne. I wasn’t entirely sure I was really a fan of it, and Lee said he’d prefer a beer, if he was being totally honest, which I was relieved to hear.
Rachel laughed. “Well if you guys won’t drink it, I will.”
“Might want to save some for later,” Noah said.
“What? Why?”