Chapter Twenty-two
Almost everyone had taken the rest of the evening off. The crowd that had lingered after Norah delivered the eulogy slowly dissipated but excitedly made plans to have a bonfire that night and toast with whatever was left of the expensive champagne Chase had somehow commandeered from New Orleans.
Norah went back to her tent alone, grabbed a clean pair of shorts and her worn army sweatshirt, and took a long shower.
She let the water burn so hot it scalded her skin, but it also grounded her, the pain a reminder that she still had time.
It all felt so foolish now, the way she’d kept Chase at a distance for so long.
Mistakes had been made. She hadn’t forgotten that.
But Chase had also proved to her every day recently that people can change.
The fear was still there as Norah toweled off her hair and brushed out some of the knots.
She had no way to be certain Chase wouldn’t abandon her the way she had before.
She had no guarantees. She could easily live with the fact that life didn’t promise any guarantees and that any one of them could drop dead tomorrow.
Was it so difficult to accept the same about love?
It might not have been the perfect moment or even day to find Chase and tell her about the onslaught of thoughts she’d been wrestling with since Jamie died.
But a perfect moment, or day, might never come.
Norah reminded herself that tomorrow isn’t promised.
And suddenly she had to get to that bonfire as soon as possible.
Norah’s hair was still wet, held back in a lazy bun, and she basically ran back to her tent, where she tossed her dirty clothes and towel onto the ground and rushed back outside. Chase had to be there. She just had to be.
A fire much bigger than Norah had expected blazed under the night sky. If she hadn’t been so distracted by the way the light played off Chase’s strong features, she might have noticed that all the stars were out again too. But all she saw was Chase.
Norah forced her feet to stop moving for a minute and filled her lungs with so much air her chest hurt. She pushed the air out, the nervous excitement flooding her entire body. There was no doubt in her mind. The past be damned. She wanted Chase, and she wanted all of her.
“Hi,” Norah said, trying to settle her breath as she stood so close to Chase their shoulders touched.
“Hi.” Chase gave her that look again. It was the same one she’d given her a thousand times since they’d been there.
Her eyes held what Norah could only call unconditional love.
She gazed at Norah like she was the only woman she’d ever seen, and the only one she would ever see again.
It was the same look Norah had hated when they first arrived.
She’d hated it because she didn’t know how to accept the love Chase so clearly still carried for her.
Now all she wanted was to be loved by Chase and to love her in return.
“Can we go somewhere?”
“Sure. Should we hit up a bar or a club or something?” Chase was teasing her but seemed to quickly pick up on the seriousness of whatever Norah wanted and changed course. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”
Norah smiled, momentarily embarrassed by the increasing presence of the butterflies in her chest, feeling like she was fourteen again and about to confess her crush on the neighbor boy across the street.
Chase led her away from the crowd and down the dirt path, back toward the water where Jamie had been remembered earlier.
Everyone, even John, was at the bonfire.
She and Chase were completely alone. As they walked in silence, Chase weaved her fingers through Norah’s in a way that was startlingly more intimate than even sex could ever be.
The peepers sang their semi-melodic song, and in the distance a bullfrog was making himself known, rhythmically chiming in as the baritone of the choir.
Now Norah noticed the stars. They were enormous—bright lanterns in the sky against a pitch-black background that you could get lost in if you stared at it too long.
“Look, fireflies,” Chase said, pointing in the distance.
They stopped at the edge of the water. Norah’s heart was beating so fast now she felt dizzy, the line of the horizon no longer entirely clear.
“Chase…”
Any and all words had vanished, flickering out like the fireflies. Norah knew what she wanted to say, but nothing was coming out.
She angled her body so she was facing Chase now, staring at her, wondering if she’d ever be able to speak again. When the words never came, Norah threw her arms around Chase’s neck and kissed her desperately, urgently, hoping this embrace could say more than she ever could.
At first Chase thought this might be just another kiss, like all the others. A kiss that said Norah loved her, but that was all there was to it. She was happy even if that was all it was, but this was different. Any sense of reluctance Norah held in her lips was gone.
“I love you,” Norah said quickly, with the same sense of urgency the kiss had held.
“I love you too.” Chase held her at arm’s length, studying Norah’s face after Norah had broken the kiss, trying to decipher what was going through that brilliant mind of hers. Chase was usually so good at reading her. But not that night. She knew only that something was different about this moment.
“No. You don’t understand. I love you. I mean I really, really love you.”
Chase’s heart melted a little more at the declaration, and she reached up and softly tucked the free strands of hair behind Norah’s ear. Norah seemed to want to say more. Chase could see that much. And she just had to let her.
“I know,” Chase whispered.
Norah shook her head in obvious frustration.
“I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose this. Not when we go home. Not ever.”
This. This was everything Chase had been wanting to hear for months, years, maybe even her entire life.
She wanted to freeze this moment in time and burn it into her mind so she could carry it with her to her grave.
Life moved too quickly. She knew this. So Chase told herself to try to hold onto this feeling for as long as she could.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Nor.”
Chase expected Norah to say more, but Norah just kissed her again, hands clasped tight around the back of Chase’s head like she wouldn’t dream of ever letting go.
“Take me home, Chase Durgin.”
Norah’s hands quickly moved to the hem of Chase’s T-shirt, pulling it up over her head the same way she’d done a million times before.
Now that Chase finally had her breathing under control, she seemed to be losing all communication with her legs, and they were faltering so that if she didn’t find herself horizontal voluntarily, she’d end up on the floor of the tent.
As if reading her thoughts, which she very well may have been, Norah broke the kiss and gently took Chase’s hand, grasping only her fingertips and leading her to the cot. For someone who talked as much as Norah did, this silence was unfounded.
They’d been here so many times over the years, even during the last several months, in Norah’s bed, with Norah’s legs straddling her hips.
But everything about this time felt new.
Norah yanked off her own top, and Chase sucked in a breath.
Every single time Chase saw her naked she was absolutely stunned by the shock of seeing her perfectly smooth skin and toned shoulders. She was so beautiful.
“I meant it,” Norah finally said, leaning over and kissing Chase’s neck and down her bare chest to the crest of her breasts that her bra still covered. Chase’s peripheral vision turned a smoky gray. “I want you, Chase. I want this. I want you in every single way I can have you. Indefinitely.”
Chase’s heart felt like it had stopped. She wanted to lock this moment away in a box to pull out whenever she wanted to remind herself that this amazing woman she thought she’d lost forever loved her back.
“I love you so damn much.” That was all Chase could say, and she knew it was nowhere near enough. “I promise you I will never—”
Norah kissed her again this time softly, with a reassurance Chase had felt from her many times before.
When she finally pulled away, she buried her head in the nape of Chase’s neck, still covering Chase’s body with her own.
Chase had stopped what was about to be her millionth apology to Norah, who had made it clear that “sorry” was no longer necessary.
They sat in the stillness for a while, Norah’s breath hot against Chase’s ear.
Chase’s chest grew so tight she thought she might burst open. “But everything that happened with us back then. Everything I did…”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t?” Chase wanted to believe her more than she’d ever wanted to believe anything.
Norah sat more upright and cradled Chase’s face in her hands, looking her directly in the eyes.
“Listen to me. I. Don’t. Care.”