Chapter Fourteen #3
“I think that was the point,” I reply, attempting to smile to put him at ease. As uncomfortable as this is for me, it must be for him too. I take a moment to really look at him. While I slept, he must have styled his hair and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. “Are you okay?”
Noah snorts, and I briefly wonder what about that question he finds funny. But then I recall that his family is loaded with people who find humor in unfavorable and uncomfortable situations.
His unhinged-sounding laugh moments ago makes more sense to me now. I’m not the only one coping in this moment.
Noah gestures to the couch, already moving my way. “Do you mind if I sit down beside you?”
I nod, scooching over to make plenty of space between us. Noah sits on the farthest end of the couch while I hole up at the opposite end.
Noah twists to angle himself toward me, so I mimic his actions. Finally, he says, “I’m okay. I wasn’t for a while, but I’m back on my feet. I don’t want you to worry about it. How are you, Esme Lorraine Jenkins? I’ve had a million conversations with you in my head, but here you are. How?”
That captures my attention. Talking to one another through our heads is one thing I can relate to.
“I could say the same,” I state, a small smile flickering on my face.
I watch as Noah’s shoulders relax, and that small action paves the way for me to take my first deep breath.
He gives me room to continue explaining.
“I wrote a book, and, um,” I close my eyes and exhale, “I think it was about us. At least to some extent.”
Noah is slack-jawed for a moment before he shakes his head clear.
“You wrote a book? That’s amazing, Esme!
” He stands, bringing his hands to his head as he paces.
I trace the width of his shoulders with my eyes, and a little shiver runs down my spine.
Noah is a big guy. Maybe even more built than Ashton.
He takes a few steps back in my direction, and I twist on the couch to face him.
He kneels onto one knee in front of me, a brilliant smile on his face.
“That was your dream, and you did it. I’m so proud of you! ”
Noah takes my hands in his, and I’m overcome by how they swallow mine and how warm they feel. I pull away, shocked by how much I like it.
“Oh, sorry.” Noah clears his throat, taking his place back beside me on the couch. I notice he sits a little closer this time, and I also notice that I don’t mind it.
“No, it’s okay,” I say, mustering sincerity in my eyes.
He’s in the same boat I am, both of us jostling for the role of captain.
Except neither of us expertly know how to steer around the wreckage of my missing memories.
“And thank you. I’m still in awe that I did it.
And that Ashton’s offering me a book deal. ”
“He forgot to mention that earlier,” Noah says, his thick brows furrowing together. But then he shakes away whatever thought held him hostage for a second, and he plants his smile back in place. “That’s awesome, Esme. Truly. When can I read it?”
My eyes widen, and Noah hurriedly says, “If you want me to, that is.”
I nod. “Of course I do. It’s, uh—” I stop myself from saying it was the whole reason I wanted to find him so that he could sort out my reality, but that’s not entirely true, and that would hurt him if I said that. “I just don’t want to bother you with a newbie’s novel.”
“You could never be a bother, Esme.” Noah’s fingers twitch as if he’s fighting not to touch me. That thought causes my heart to jump, but the jury is out if the reaction is out of desire or skittishness.
No, it’s a hung jury.
“I don’t have my laptop with me. Or my printed manuscript.” I look down, fiddling with my thumbs. “I do have it on my phone, though. If you want to read it there on our way home.” Be brave, Esme. This is why you wanted to find him. He has answers.
“Home?”
I snap my eyes to his. “I didn’t mean to assume you’d come back with us, but I—” I laugh nervously and give a little shrug. “I was hoping you might.”
“Of course I’m coming back. I was planning to go back at the end of the month, anyway.” Once more, Noah’s fingers twitch. I roll my lips into my mouth and place my palms face up on my lap. Noah stares at me, hitching a brow.
A blush creeps across my cheeks, but I will myself to stay strong. He’s just as new to this situation as I am. And I think he needs the contact. “You can take my hands. If you want.” And then as if I needed to justify myself, I tack on, “Maybe it will help me remember everything.”
A wicked grin spreads across Noah’s handsome face, and I don’t know if I want to play with fire or run. His voice lowers an octave as he whispers, “Sweetheart, I will hold your hands until you remember every.” He leans in. “Single.” Our faces are inches apart, and my breath hitches. “Moment.”
I gasp, taken aback by his bold flirtation, but before I can formulate a thought, the door swings open.
“Put a sock on the knob next time,” that Midwestern accent comments.
Noah meets my eyes, joy blending with an air of sadness shining through as he smiles. He stands and greets Nick and Ashton, who take up way too much space standing in the small entryway.
Noah offers his hand to me, and I take it as he helps me off the couch.
I’m still feeling a little weak, so I reason with myself.
If I don’t want to fall over, I should lean into Noah’s side.
For support. That’s all. Not because even though I have no idea why, I like the feel of his hand in mine. Even if it freaks me out a little.
Okay, a lot.
It’s like my body and soul recognize him, but my brain hasn’t caught up yet.
I need a dose of comfort. “You’re back!” I slowly slip my hand from Noah’s and walk across the room to greet Ashton. He gives me a weird look, but I think he reads the storm of confusion raging behind my eyes.
After I take a grocery bag from Ashton’s hand, I dare to glance back at Noah, knowing that the abrupt exit must have hurt him. He wears a tight smile, and a sinking feeling swirls in my stomach. I don’t want to hurt Noah, but I need a moment to sit with his existence in front of me and process.
Noah, however, casually strolls toward us and introduces me.
“Nick, this is the woman who decided it would be a fun time to forget me.” His eyes crinkle in the corners as he grins wider, but there’s still something dark swimming underneath his expression.
“And she still doesn't remember everything, but she remembers my heart-melting smile.”
Ashton rolls his eyes as Nick sighs dramatically before responding. “How fortunate. I saw Windsor when I took Ashton out to Safeway. She didn’t even look at me. She actively stuck that little nose in the air and walked right on by.”
“It was quite funny,” Ashton comments, holding one handful of groceries since I took one bag from him in a hasty action to make it seem like I rushed to help Ashton instead of taking a breather from the intensity that is Noah Prewitt. “She acted like he didn’t even exist.”
Nick shrugs. “I don’t like her anyway. It’s just fun to rile her up.”
Noah snorts. “Whatever you say, buddy.”
“Windsor?” I ask. “That’s her name?”
Nick grins, tilting his head. “It’s my name for the Princess of Crescent Cove.”
I narrow my eyes in confusion, but Nick doesn’t offer to elaborate, obviously lost in some sort of vision of said princess.
Once the guys come inside and put away the groceries, Nick sets to work cooking some kind of secret dish he says we’ll love while Ashton, Noah, and I sit around the campfire in Nick’s backyard.
I’m a wallflower while the guys talk, but I’m enjoying seeing Ashton’s pure elation at being with his twin again.
It’s as if a weight has crumbled from Ashton’s shoulders.
I was wrong earlier when I thought I hadn’t slept long after passing out from the overwhelming sensation of that stupid montage that didn’t help me remember much of anything.
I had slept for four hours while Ashton and Noah caught up.
It’s ten at night here, but the sun says it could be five in the evening with how brightly it’s shining since the clouds have disappeared.
Part of me wants to continually stare at the blue sky. It moves differently here, creating the illusion that I’m standing on the edge of the world.
But Noah is real, and I can’t rip my eyes away from him as he laughs at something Ashton says.
I’ll never read my book the same way again, and there are so many new layers and depths I want to add to the story and to Noah’s character.
The way he masks his deep-seated sadness with humor.
The way he’s been avoiding talking about anything too heavy with Ashton.
I think he’s trying to protect me, but I wish he’d just open up.
I’m the last person who would judge him.
Or maybe he thinks I’ll beat myself up if he starts to talk about just how much my memory loss impacted him.
I can’t deny he’s right about that, but I still wish he wouldn’t tiptoe around me with humor and flirty comments.
It’s our specialty, fictional Noah states.
“And then Branda took off her heel and threw it at me.” Ashton laughs as he finishes telling Noah a story about yet another time Branda got peeved at him at the office.
Noah laughs, shaking his head. His curls bounce, and I want to run my fingers through them to see if they feel as silky and smooth as I wrote them. “Don’t worry,” Noah says. “I’ll get her back for you when we get home.”
“So, you’re coming back?” Ashton’s voice quivers lightly as he casts his gaze down.