“I’m warning you, I smell like French fries and—” Adam snagged him by the shirt, dragging him in for a kiss that made Noah’s whole body tingle, murmuring, “I love French fries,” against his lips. Noah let himself get swept up in the kiss but was unable to shake the feeling he was being watched. “Wow, dinner and a show,” a low voice drawled, filled with humor. Noah jumped at the unfamiliar voice in the backseat, jerking around to see two strangers, mirror images of each other. “There’s two of you,” he mumbled.
