I leaned against the edge of the bar, staring at Noah like he owed me answers… or maybe I just liked watching the way his lips moved when he tried to explain himself.

He looked at me, eyes glassy, cheeks pink, like he was caught red-handed.

Then...Tada!...he pulled out a half-empty bottle of wine from behind his back like it was a magic trick.

“Here,” he said with a goofy smile, voice thick with a drunken slur. “This is what I’m hiding.”

He laughed, more like giggled, and for a ...