Chapter 8 - The Way She Falls Into Me

Noah's POV

I should've walked back inside. I should've gone to my room, shut the door, and reminded myself that Jacob would actually bury me alive if he knew what I was thinking.

But the second Ava stepped onto her porch, all soft sunlight and nervous eyes, every responsible thought vanished.

I'd asked if she was avoiding me as a joke.

Then she tripped.

And I caught her.

I've replayed a lot of football highlights in my life, but nothing has ever replayed in my head as vividly as that.

Her hand gripping my shirt. Her body pressed against mine for half a second too long. Her breath catching like she didn't mean to. Like she felt it too.

And I didn't want to let go.

That was the part that scared me.

After she rushed down the street, I stood frozen on my steps, trying to get my heartbeat under control. Tyler would've made fun of me for it. Jace would've said, You're gone, dude.

They'd be right.

I finally went inside, grabbed water from the fridge, and leaned against the counter, replaying every detail like some lovesick idiot.

My mom walked in and raised an eyebrow. "You look... conflicted."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Just tired."

She didn't buy it for a second. "You saw Ava."

I choked. "What—how—"

"Sweetheart," she said, opening a cabinet, "I raised you. You're not that mysterious."

I groaned. "Mom,"

She just smiled like she knew something I didn't. "Be careful with that one."

"I'm trying," I muttered.

Truth was... trying wasn't working.

Later that afternoon, Tyler and Jace came over to rum drills in the yard, but I was useless. Every time they tossed me a ball, I caught it late or missed it entirely.

Tyler finally threw his arms up. "Bro. What is your DEAL today?"

I didn't answer.

He exchanged a look with Jace. "It's her isn't it?"

Jace elbowed him. "Ava?"

I glared. "It's nothing."

Tyler grinned. "Yeah, nothing usually makes you stare into the void like you're rewriting your entire life plan."

Jace added, "Also nothing usually wears sandals and almost falls into your arms.

I shoved him lightly. "Shut up."

But they were right.

And they knew it.

When they finally left, I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, hands clasped, trying to make sense of the mess in my chest.

I shouldn't want her. I shouldn't think about her. I shouldn't remember the way she felt when I caught her.

But I did.

And the truth hit me, sharp and unshakeable:

It wasn't just that Ava looked different. It wasn't just that she grew up. It wasn't even that she noticed me noticing her.

It was the way she fell into me—like she trusted me without thinking. Like she belonged there.

And the worst part?

Holding her felt like the first right thing I've done in years.

I'm in trouble. Real trouble.

Because the girl next door isn't just on my mind now.

She's under my skin. And I'm not sure there's a way back from that.