Chapter 21
Stella:
I returned to my office, and unsurprisingly, Noah followed me in.
He closed the door behind him with a soft click, leaning back against it with that easy confidence that somehow never crossed into arrogance. "So," he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "I scored the highest in the entire class. Doesn't that earn me some kind of reward?"
I raised an eyebrow as I set my bag down on the desk. "You've already received your reward—valuable knowledge and a strong foundation in psychological principles."
"Wow. Inspiring." His smile widened. "What if I told you my roommates are throwing a celebration dinner this Sunday? You could come. My treat."
"Noah—"
"I know, I know. Boundaries." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "But the offer stands. El Camino Taco Truck, seven o'clock. Best al pastor in the city, and I promise to maintain complete professional decorum."
"I appreciate the invitation, but I'll have to decline." I kept my voice measured, professional. "You should celebrate with your friends."
"Worth a shot." He pushed off from the door, that smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. "But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
---
By Saturday afternoon, I'd almost succeeded in pushing the whole thing out of my mind. Almost. I was halfway through meal-prepping for the week, chopping vegetables with perhaps more force than strictly necessary, when my phone buzzed with a call from Zoe.
"We got back yesterday," Zoe said, her voice bright with post-honeymoon energy. "Which is why I'm calling—I need to see you. Dinner tomorrow? There's this new Mediterranean place near campus that's supposed to be incredible."
"I've missed you too," I said warmly, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. "Tomorrow sounds perfect. Text me the address. I want to hear everything about Greece."
"Oh, you're going to get the full photo tour. Fair warning—I took about a thousand pictures of Jason attempting water sports. It's comedy gold."
"Can't wait. Seven thirty?"
"Seven thirty. Don't be late—you know how I feel about people who waste reservations."
"Okay."
The Mediterranean bistro Zoe had chosen for our "welcome back from honeymoon" dinner was exactly the kind of place she loved—exposed brick walls, trailing ivy in copper planters, and a menu that required a graduate degree to decipher.
When I came to the table, Zoe immediately stood and pulled me into a hug. "Okay, now tell me—how have you really been? And thank you for keeping an eye on Noah. I know he can be a handful."
"He's actually doing quite well," I said, settling back into my chair.
"I know! He called me right after midterm grades posted—first place in the entire class with a ninety-four. I was shocked." Zoe grinned. "Turns out the kid's got some brains after all. But you, my friend, are even more impressive for getting through to him."
She set down her phone and reached for her mimosa, then suddenly froze mid-motion, her eyes focusing on something through the window. "Wait—is that Noah again? What's he doing over there?"
I followed her gaze and felt my stomach drop. Across the street, Noah had stopped near a cluster of outdoor tables at some trendy campus bar, surrounded by what looked like half his freshman class.
"He said he had a group project meeting," Zoe said slowly, suspicion creeping into her voice. "That looks more like a party."
"Maybe they're celebrating the midterm results," I offered weakly, even as dread pooled in my stomach.
But Zoe was already standing, that mischievous gleam in her eye that I'd learned to fear back in our Harvard days. "You know what? I'm going to go surprise him. It'll be fun—I haven't properly embarrassed my little brother in weeks."
"Zoe, wait—" I started to stand, but she was already waving me off.
"You stay here, finish your coffee. I'll just be a minute." She grabbed her purse, then paused, glancing back at me with a grin that spelled trouble. "Actually, this gives me a great idea. Watch this."
Before I could protest, she was out the door and crossing the street with purposeful strides. I watched through the window, my heart climbing into my throat as she approached Noah's table.
He hadn't seen her yet—he was mid-conversation with Marcus, gesturing animatedly about something, that easy smile on his face that made him look every bit the carefree college student he was supposed to be.
Then Zoe was there, and I watched in horror as she slipped her arms around Noah from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
The entire table went silent.
Noah's expression cycled through confusion, recognition, and then something close to panic as Zoe circled around to stand beside him, her arm draped possessively over his shoulders.
Even from across the street, I could see him trying to speak, his mouth forming words I couldn't hear, but Zoe was already laughing and saying something to the group that made Tyler's eyebrows shoot up and Sofia's smile falter.
Oh god. What was she doing?
Marcus pulled out his phone, and I realized with mounting horror that he was probably filming this—because of course he was, everything was content for his Instagram these days.
Noah looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, his hands raised in what was clearly an attempt at explanation, but Zoe just squeezed his shoulder tighter and said something else that made the whole table erupt in whistles and laughter.
Then, before Noah could get a word in edgewise, Zoe was waving goodbye to the group and practically dragging him away from the table, back across the street toward the bistro.
I watched Noah glance back over his shoulder at his friends, saw him mouth something that looked like "I can explain," but they were already pulling out their phones, no doubt firing up the group chat.
The door chimed as Zoe swept back in, Noah in tow, both of them slightly breathless. Noah's face was flushed, whether from embarrassment or frustration I couldn't tell, and he very deliberately wasn't looking at me.
"That was fun," Zoe announced, dropping back into her seat with obvious satisfaction. "You should have seen their faces. I don't think Noah's told his friends he has a girlfriend."
My coffee cup froze halfway to my lips. "I'm sorry, what?"