Page 98 of Keeping Guard
“Well, it’s not the pizza delivery guy. Know why?”
“No, why?”
“’Cause we didn’t order pizza.”
That cracked both of them up, and she was laughing so hard that she barely managed to get the door opened. “You’re not the pizza man.”
“You’ve got pizza coming?” Jack said.
“Nope. That’s why you’re not the pizza man.” She glanced back at Nichole. “Told ya.” That set them off again.
“I take it you two lovely ladies finished off the wine.”
Nichole snorted. “Guilty.”
“Guilty. Me, too.” Peyton leaned toward Jack so she could whisper. “I like beer better, but don’t tell Nichole, okay?”
“Mum’s the word,” he whispered back with a big grin on his face. He glanced between the two of them. “I understand one of you needs a designated driver?”
“That would be me,” Nichole chirped, raising her hand. She stood, then grabbed hold of the island counter. “Whoa. Who’s moving the room around?”
“Easy, babe.” Jack rushed to Nichole’s side and scooped her up, then turned to Peyton. “You going to be okay?”
“Sure.” Not. Noah wasn’t here to carry her so she could nuzzle his neck like Nichole was doing to Jack.
“Okay. You have our number. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
At the door, he paused, seemed to consider something, then said, “He’ll come back. I don’t know when, but he will.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just shrugged. “Be careful driving home, okay?”
“Always. Lock up behind me.”
“I will.” The buzz she’d had going was gone, the loft was back in silent mode, and as she locked her door, she squashed the hope that Jack was right. Noah was gone and she might as well get used to that. If that was possible.
God, she missed him with an ache deep in her heart and bones. Was he missing her? Thinking about her?
“Come on, man. Let’s go out. You’ve been home for a week and all you do is train and mope.”
Noah shifted his gaze from his phone screen to his roommate. “I don’t mope.” He hit delete on the text message, one of many he hadn’t sent Peyton. It was better this way. A clean break so she could get on with her life.
“Go look in a mirror. That’s a total mope face. What happened in Asheville? Some chick break your heart?” Jared laughed as if the notion was absurd.
No, he broke hers. Maybe. Was she missing him the way he missed her?
“You got indigestion or something? You keep rubbing your chest.”
Because the damn thing hurt.
“Come on. I need a wingman and, dude, you need to get laid bad. I guarantee that’ll cure that mope right off your face.”
Like he could touch a woman who wasn’t Peyton.
Jared scowled when Noah didn’t respond. He plopped down on the other end of the sofa. “Okay. Talk. Who is she that’s got your panties in a knot?”
“A princess.”
