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During our big 'Welcome Home!' lunch, Mom had a field day teasing me. It felt like everyone was in on the joke, trying to see just how red I could get.
Mom laughed softly, watching the embarrassment creep onto my face. "He's really sweet, Noah. You're lucky, you know? Most boys your age can barely remember to text back, let alone actually come looking for you."
I ducked my head, pretending to concentrate on my plate as my cheeks heated up. "I didn't think he'd go that far," I mumbled, managing a small smile.
Across the table, Adrien paused, his fork hanging in midair. "Yeah yeah," he said flatly. "Can we talk about something else for a change?"
His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that made me look up. His gaze wasn't on me, though; he stared down at his plate, jaw tight, the muscle twitching just a bit before he went back to eating as if nothing was wrong.
