“Are you sure?”

“I will ask them to spit in your tacos. Lifesaver or not.”

He laughed, making another turn. “How can I fairly judge if they’re good tacos if I’m aware that they may have been spat in?”

“Order the fajitas instead,” I deadpanned.

Noah pulled into an empty spot outside Rocky’s Liquor, and I unclipped my seatbelt.

“Well?” I asked when he didn’t move. “Are you coming to help me buy my body weight in liquor to get through living with my parents or not?”

***

“I told you the tacos are good.” I licked my fingers as I set my half-eaten one on the plate.

“I wouldn’t know,” Noah said dryly, leveling me with a look that held only a hint of amusement. “I had the enchiladas because I don’t know if I can trust you or not.”

With a sigh, I grabbed my taco and held up the end I hadn’t yet bitten into and held it out. “Here. Take a bite. I swear I didn’t spit on this end.”

Noah stared at me. “You said this wasn’t a date.”

“Taking a bite of my taco does not make this a date.” I paused. “My legs are firmly closed, just so you’re clear on which taco I’m referring to.”

“One, the taco you’re holding out to me is clear enough, and two… Do you really refer to your vagina as a taco?”

“I don’t make it a habit, but it’s been a crazy week. I’m rolling with it.”

He took a moment before he shrugged and leaned forward. His fingers closed around my hands as he guided the soft-shell taco toward his mouth and angled it to take a good bite.

It was unfairly, ridiculously, and probably illegally hot.

I did not sign up for this.

“You’re right,” he said, lowering my hands to put the remainder back in the basket. “They are good tacos.”

Yes.

Good tacos.

Very good tacos.

Ahem.

I shook my head and reached for my ice water so I didn’t have to respond. I wasn’t quite sure what would come out of my mouth if I did, so it was much, much easier to seal my lips around a stupid paper straw that was soggy as hell.

What was I saying about it being easier?

Right.

That was when we were allowed to use plastic straws.

I was all for saving the ocean, but I was also all for being able to drink my water.

I pulled the wet straw out and replaced it with another. It was good for all of two minutes until—wait, never mind.

It was useless when I reached the end of my water and was sucking up air.

Welp.

There went my ignoring tactic.

“So,” Noah said. “Have you heard anything from your insurance company yet?”

I shook my head and tucked my hair behind my ear. “They’re waiting on the reports from y’all. Do you happen to know anything?”

“I might have heard some things.”