Chapter 27 Chapter 27
Noah's POV
The fire was already burning when we got there. Bright, restless flames licking up into the night air, sparks drifting like they didn’t care where they landed. Music thumped somewhere behind us, heavy bass, uneven, blending with laughter and voices that carried very far across the open field. Athlete events always felt like this, loud, alive and easy to disappear in. I usually liked that, but I wasn’t here for that tonight.
I walked beside Emily across the grass, the uneven ground crunching under our shoes. She had her arms folded lightly, more out of habit than cold, her eyes were scanning the crowd like she was already calculating how long she needed to stay.
“You don’t like these things,” I said.
“I tolerate them.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No. It’s not.” She said.
I smirked slightly. “You could try having fun.”
“I am having fun.”
“That’s your fun face?”
She didn’t look at me. “Yes.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Terrifying.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was something different tonight. I noticed it the moment we stepped into the crowd, she stayed close to me, but not like the clinging type. She was close enough that our shoulders brushed when someone passed quickly, to the point where I could feel her presence without looking, but I didn’t move away. I didn't give her space either. I wasn't going to pretend that I didn't notice either, because I remembered yesterday in the training room. The way she stepped back too fast. Her voice shifted, she looked at me like she didn’t trust herself. I wanted to see that again.
We stopped near the fire. Sean waved us over, already halfway through a drink. “Well, well,” he said. “The power couple arrives.”
Emily sighed softly. “We are not a power couple.”
Sean grinned. “Tell that to the cameras.”
I stepped slightly closer to her. “Don’t worry,” I said quietly. “You’re doing great.”
She glanced at me. “I wasn’t worried.”
“Your shoulders say otherwise.”
“My shoulders are fine.”
I leaned in just a little. Close enough that my voice dropped without effort. “You tighten them when you’re uncomfortable.”
Her breath hitched slightly, but it was barely noticeable.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” she said.
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
She turned her head towards me, her eyes were sharper. “You’re very observant tonight.”
“I always am.”
“No, you’re not.”
I smiled slightly. “Maybe you’re just easier to read.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“This.”
She gestured vaguely between us. “Being...” she stopped, searching for the word.
“Close?” I offered.
“Unnecessary.”
I leaned back slightly. “Unnecessary?”
“Yes.”
“That hurts.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Barely.”
Sean laughed behind us. “You two argue like you’re married.”
“We’re not,” Emily said immediately.
“Relax,” I muttered. “It’s a joke.”
She exhaled slowly, but she didn’t step away to create distance which was interesting.
I grabbed two drinks from the cooler beside us and handed one to her. “I don’t drink,” she said.
“It’s water.”
She hesitated before taking it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Our fingers brushed for a second, lingering. She pulled her hand back quickly. That was the reaction I was looking for but yet I shouldn't even be looking for it in the first place, but now that I saw it, I couldn’t stop.
We moved with the crowd as the night went on. People were talking, laughing and the music shifted. The fire burned lower, then higher again as someone threw more wood onto it. And through all of it, I stayed close to her, trying not to make it obvious just enough that she couldn't ignore it either.
When someone bumped into her, my hand landed lightly at her waist to steady her. She froze for a second before stepping forward, creating space again. “You’re doing that on purpose,” she said quietly.
“Doing what?” I asked.
“This.” She gestured again. “Touching me. standing too close, leaning in.”
“I’m just being supportive.”
“You’re being annoying.”
“Same thing.”
She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“You have said that before.”
“And I meant it.”
I leaned in again, but closer. “You always pretend you’re unaffected,” I said softly. Her breath caught again. It was that small shift like a crack. “It’s not convincing.”
She looked at me. Something in her expression faltered. “I am unaffected,” she said.
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
Her voice dropped. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I can see it.”
She swallowed. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m not.”
Silence stretched between us. It was charged. Full of everything neither of us was saying. She stepped back. “I’m getting some air,” she said before walking away and I watched her go. Her shoulders were tighter now and her steps were faster.
I followed. She stopped near the edge of the field, where the noise faded slightly and the shadows stretched longer. “You don’t have to follow me,” she said without turning around.
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?” She asked.
I stepped up beside her. “Because you’re here.”
She exhaled. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
She turned to face me. There was frustration in her eyes. “You don’t take anything seriously,” she said.
“That’s not true.”
“You treat everything like a game.”
I held her gaze. “Not everything.”
She hesitated. “Then what’s this?” she asked. I didn’t answer immediately, because I wasn’t entirely sure. She shook her head. “This isn’t real.”
“I know.”
“We’re pretending.”
“I know.”
“So stop making it feel like something else.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word.
That did something to me, “I’m not making it anything,” I said quietly.
“You are.”
“How?”
“You’re...” she stopped but then she said it anyway. “You’re confusing me.”
The honesty hit harder than anything else tonight. I stepped closer, not even teasing her this time.
“You’re confused?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t act like this with other people.”
“How do I act?” I asked.
“Like this matters.” The words hung between us, neither of us moved.
We were breathing the same air and feeling the same tension. “I don’t like that guy you were talking to,” I said suddenly.
Her brows furrowed. “What?”
“My stepbrother. At the café.”
“That’s not relevant.”
“It is to me.”
She stared at me. “Why?” I didn’t answer because I didn’t have a clear explanation. I didn’t want to say it out loud. “Exactly,” she said softly.
“You don’t even know.”
“I do.”
“Then say it.”
I looked at her. I almost said the thing that had been building since yesterday. But I stepped back instead, breaking the moment. “You should go back,” I said.
Her expression shifted to confusion and frustration. “Right,” she said quietly.
She turned around and walked back towards the fire, the noise and crowd.
I remained where I was for a second longer, staring at the ground, trying to make sense of something that didn’t feel simple anymore, because this wasn’t just teasing or just pushing boundaries. I wasn’t just a game, but it was different. I didn’t want it to stop. I ran a hand through my hair and followed her back. I wasn't going to back off easily.