Page 65 of Finding Noah

Meg knew I'd liked her once upon a time, but I hadn't mentioned as much in over a year. Did she still see it even though I tried covering it up?

Did Jack see it too?

One look into his eyes told me he did.

He offered a hand, and when I accepted, he squeezed my palm a little tighter than was necessary.

I squeezed back.

“Congratulations on graduating,” he said, giving me a smile that didn't at all reach his eyes.

Something told me it wasn't Jack's idea to come. Something told me Jack hadn't wanted to come at all.

“Thanks, man,” I replied.

“It's good to find at least a little direction in life,” he said, dropping my hand like it was a cold, wet fish and wiping his palm on the thigh of his khakis.

“What is it you do, Jack?” Dad asked, leaning against the doorframe. “I feel like Patrick must've mentioned it at some point, but I dunno. Can't seem to remember.”

I fought a smirk as Meg quietly excused herself to find her dad.

At six foot seven and six foot three, respectively, Dad and I towered over Jack and his modest five-ten. With his crisp button-down and pressed slacks, I wondered what the hell Meg saw in him. She was a nice girl, and, yeah, maybe I was a little rougher around the edges than what she was used to, but I was a nice guy too. This dude … Jack … he was surface-level nice, but beneath his clean exterior, he was pompous. He had a stick shoved so far up his ass that I was surprised he could speak with it lodged in his throat.

Everyone else seemed to like him. Seemed to think he was good for her. But, no, I disagreed.

I'd be good for her.

She'd be good for me.

“I'm an accountant at a tax firm,” Jack replied, slipping his hands into his pockets for something to do. “It's …” He pressed his eyes shut and shook his head with a smugness that forced my urge to punch him in the face. “It's complicated, a lot to explain. It'd probably bore the two of you if I tried.”

A low sound scraped through Dad's throat as he slowly nodded. “Ah. Must be why I didn't remember. It sounds boring.”

A smile slithered across Jack's lips. “My dad owns the firm,” he said. “I'm going to take over one day.”

“Good for you,” Dad replied. “Must be nice to have your career handed to you and not have to work toward something.”

“I dunno,” I chimed in, frowning. “Not sure that's anything to be proud of.”

“Well, hey,” Jack said, his face lighting up with a new brand of condescension, “I guess the bar was set pretty low for you, huh, Noah? When one dad's a murderer and the other is a … what? Ex-drug dealer? I think that's what I read—”

I took a step closer, crowding his space. “Bite your tongue before I wrinkle that fucking shirt of yours,” I warned from between clenched teeth.

“It's okay, Noah,” Dad said, wrapping a hand around my arm and tugging me back. “Jack, if you're going to step foot in my house, you're going to respect the people who live in it, and that's all I'm gonna say about that. Enjoy yourself, enjoy the food my wife and mother-in-law made, but if I hear you say one more thing about me or my family, I'll carry you out of here myself … easily. You understand?”

Jack's eyes lingered on mine for a moment before lifting to Dad's. Then, reluctantly, he nodded.

“Good,” Dad replied. “Find your girlfriend and get yourself a plate.”

Jack slunk away in search of Meg. Possessive fury wrapped its cold, icy fingers around my throat as I clenched my fists at my sides.

“You know how I said you should find another nice girl?” Dad murmured, lifting his cup to his lips.

“Mmhmm,” I replied, afraid to say anything more. Afraid I wouldn't find the control to not throw a string of curses after Jack, who was apparently a jackass.

“I take that back,” he said, his voice muffled. “She needs to open her fucking eyes and notice what’s right in front of her.”

And what Dad meant by that, I wasn't sure. I didn't ask for clarification—if he was talking about Jack's shitty personality beneath his clean, shiny exterior … or if he was referring to me.