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“So . . .” I echo back, my heart pounding.

 

He’s so close I can see a tiny fleck of ink on the side of his face. His hand closes tighter around mine and this automatically pulls me even closer, until our faces are just centimeters apart. He’s going to kiss me! Is he going to kiss me? What should I do? I close my eyes to try to block out any panicky thoughts. And then I feel his lips on mine—as light as a feather—and I feel myself kissing him back. Somehow, miraculously, I seem to know what to do. And then he lets go of my hand and I feel his strong arms wrapping around me, pulling me even closer. As the kiss gets more intense, I feel as if I’m melting into him.

 

And then my phone starts to ring. I let it go to voicemail while Noah hugs me tight.

 

“See, I told you—you are my inciting incident,” he says softly.

 

I nod and we break apart, although I notice we’re still sitting with our legs touching. “I’d better just check my phone,” I say, worried that Dad might be having a freak-out that I’ve gone off with Noah.

 

But the missed call is from Elliot. I go to my voicemail to retrieve his message.

 

“Penny! Where are you? Your mum says you’ve sneaked off somewhere with Prince Charming. Can you please, please come back ASAP? Bring him too; I’m sure the Bradys won’t mind. There’s been a catastrophe. My stupid parents won’t let me stay on—they’re making me fly home for Christmas—alone—can you believe it?!” There’s a short silence, during which my heart starts to sink. “Unless of course . . . Penny, would you come home with me?”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

I guess my shock and horror must be obvious, because as soon as I put my phone back in my bag I see Noah staring at me, worried.

 

“What’s up?” he says. “You look as if someone just told you Santa doesn’t exist—he does, by the way, that’s just a vicious rumor made up by adults to spoil our fun.”

 

I laugh but it comes out really forced. “It’s my friend Elliot,” I say. “He’s got to go home tomorrow. His parents won’t let him stay on. They want him home for Christmas.”

 

Noah sighs. “That sucks.”

 

We both sit back down and Noah picks up the flask. “Sweet tea?”

 

I nod, even though I don’t really know what “sweet tea” is. All I can think of is Elliot’s question—will I go home with him? I feel totally torn. Much as I hate the thought of Elliot having to fly home on his own, I hate the thought of leaving Mum and Dad and Noah even more.

 

Noah passes me a cup and I take a sip. It’s not like any kind of tea I’ve had before. It’s citrusy and sweet, kind of like hot lemonade.

 

“This is lovely,” I say.

 

“Another of Sadie Lee’s specialties,” Noah replies. “In South Carolina, where she’s from, they drink it all the time in the summer, with ice. This is her New York winter version.”

 

I take another sip and try to get back into the picnic vibe, but it’s no good. I can’t stop thinking about Elliot. I look at Noah. “Would it be OK if we went inside to the party? Elliot sounded really stressed. He said he needs to talk to me.”

 

A flicker of disappointment crosses Noah’s face and I feel really bad. But I can’t leave Elliot waiting, especially after he got so upset with me yesterday.

 

Noah nods. “Sure. Tell you what—you go see him. I’ll head off home.”

 

“No! I mean, can’t you come with me? I don’t want you to go.”

 

Noah laughs. “I can’t gate-crash someone’s wedding. And, anyways, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, but I’m sure the Bradys won’t mind. They’re a lovely couple. I can tell them you’re Sadie Lee’s grandson. I can say you’re my plus one.”

 

Noah raises his eyebrows and gives me a cheeky grin. “Your plus one, huh?”

 

“Yes. Please come with me.”

 

Noah shakes his head. “Listen. When I came here tonight, I thought it was to say goodbye. Now you’re gonna be here for another week, so it’s all good. I don’t mind waiting till tomorrow. You go spend some time with your friend. He doesn’t need me getting in the way.”

 

“You wouldn’t be getting in the way, you—”

 

Noah puts his finger to my lips. “Shhh.”

 

“But the picnic . . .”

 

“We can have picnics every day when you’re staying at mine.” He grins at me. “Go see your friend.”

 

I sigh. “OK.”

 

“But first . . .”

 

Noah pulls me toward him and kisses me again, cupping my head with his hand and stroking my hair.

 

“Whoa!” he says, when we finally come up for air.

 

“Great kiss!” I say, because of course I can’t possibly do something momentous like properly kiss a boy without saying something embarrassing.

 

“Yes,” Noah says with an amused twinkle in his eye. “Great kisser.”

 

I laugh and look away. And even though my face is flushed, I don’t really care. That’s the difference with Noah—I can be an International Embarrassment Waiting to Happen, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t care.

 

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you back inside.”

 

? ? ?

 

When I get back to the party, my lips are still tingling from our kisses. But the second I spot Elliot the tingle starts to fade and my heart sinks. He’s sitting at the table on his own, looking utterly dejected.

 

“Where have you been?” he asks as soon as I sit down.

 

“Sorry, Noah wanted to go for a picnic and—”

 

“A picnic?”

 

“Yes, but don’t worry I—”

 

“So where is he now?” Elliot interrupts, looking toward the door.

 

“He’s gone home.”

 

“What? Why? He didn’t have to do that. I told you to bring him here.”

 

“He didn’t want to gate-crash the wedding.”

 

“But they wouldn’t have minded—he’s the caterer’s grandson.”