"Funny, your sarcasm’s still intact even after this over-the-top city glow-up." Once they’d put enough distance between them to escape Gram’s hearing, Noah yanked his hand free from hers and stepped a full step back—like he needed space to fight the sudden, burning urge to either yank her close or snap her head off. She knew that urge like the back of her hand; they were both simmering with the same frustration. He planted his hands firmly on his hips, shaking his head once—slow, heavy, and laced with disappointment. So he was let down by her coming back? Too bad—she was just as disappointed in herself. At eighteen, she’d run off this hick town, a clumsy, unpolished country girl, forcing herself to learn to dress, talk, and walk like a put-together, confident woman who had her life all mapped out. That act had stuck like glue, even if it meant she’d sacrificed every bit of real happiness. Let’s be real—loneliness had been her only constant companion all these years. She stuffed the last crumb of cookie into her mouth. Priorities first, right? "Fine, you dragged me here—what’s on your mind?" His eyes narrowed to slits. "You’re actually asking that?" "Hey, if you wanted a cookie, you could’ve grabbed one from the tray over there." He just stared—no amusement, nothing. Fine, she knew he didn’t track her down to fight over cookies. But one question burned unsaid: how the hell had he gotten even hotter with each year that passed? Back in the day, his eyes would crinkle with amusement when she teased him, darkening with heat when they locked eyes. Now those mirrored sunglasses perched on his nose, hiding every flicker of thought or feeling. "This whole shitshow is your fault," she shot back. He folded his arms over his wide chest, tilting his head—wordlessly challenging her to back that up. "You never even looked both ways before crossing the street!" "You didn’t slow down your rental when you hit the crosswalk." She threw her hands up in that familiar frustrated move—she knew she was partially at fault, but she wasn’t about to admit it yet. "What the hell brings you back to Sunrise Cove?" he pressed. "Here to leave another breakup note?" She never meant to leave him that first note all those years ago—let alone write a second. She couldn’t bring herself to say the real reason she ran away; it would just rip open old wounds, and she’d already hurt him enough in this lifetime. Plus, he never once reached out to fix things after she left—so how upset could he really be? "I’m not here for you, Noah. I’m just here for your sister." "Thank God, ‘cause she needs you bad right now." A sharp twist of guilt coiled in her stomach. She’d barely visited in years. She was lucky Katie still considered her a best friend—lucky Noah even bothered talking to her. "How’re you holding up with everything that happened to Joe?" He dragged a palm roughly down his face, looking completely drained—like he was losing a war against exhaustion. "My brother-in-law and best friend is stuck in a coma, all ‘cause of a botched chase I led. What the hell do you think my state of mind is?"
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