CHAPTER 12. Connor #4
My brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. I’m just sitting there, unable to form a single coherent thought beyond: Oh my God, he feels the same way.
“I’m sorry,” Noah says quickly, panic flashing across his face. “I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Noah,” I finally manage, my voice sounding strange even to me. “What did you just say?”
He stares back at me, his eyes wide and terrified, still shiny with tears.
“I didn’t want to tell you,” he repeats.
“No,” I say. “Before that. Before I stopped the car.”
He blinks, looking at me. In the faint predawn light filtering through the windshield, I can see the exact moment he wants to backpedal.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said that.” The words come fast, panicky. “Just forget it. I’m sorry.”
“Noah,” I say again, more firmly this time, reaching across to take his hand. It’s shaking in mine, cold and clammy with anxiety. “Just repeat what you said.”
He nods, then looks away.
“I’m in love with you?” he says, like he’s afraid of the words. Tears start streaming down his face again. “I’m sorry.”
Oh my God.
He’s in love with me.
Not Rick.
For a second, adrenaline rushes through me so sharply I think I might actually pass out. Then happiness hits, and the laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it.
Noah just sits there, staring at me, crying even harder.
“Noah,” I say, once the laughter dies down. “Noah, I’m in love with you too.”
The words hang in the air between us for a heartbeat. Two. Three.
Noah’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.
He frowns, completely confused.
“What?” he whispers, so softly I can barely hear him over the faint hum of the engine.
His eyes are wide with disbelief, as if he’s waiting for me to take it back, to reveal this is just another part of our elaborate pretense.
But there’s no pretending anymore.
Not for me.
Not when my heart feels like it’s about to burst right out of my chest.
“I’m in love with you too,” I repeat, the words coming easier this time, like they’ve been waiting inside me all along. “God, Noah, I’m so in love with you it’s driving me crazy.”
Noah just stares at me, frozen.
“What?” he says again, shocked, like his brain can’t process what I’m telling him.
I can’t help it. I laugh again, the sound catching in my throat, and then I’m moving across the center console, my hands finding his face, his neck, his hair.
I press my lips to his forehead, his temples, the curve of his cheekbone where tears are still wet.
I kiss his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth where it trembles.
“I love you,” I whisper against his skin between kisses. “I love you. I love you.”
Noah makes a sound that’s half laugh, half sob, his hands coming up to grip my wrists like he needs something to hold on to. I pull back just enough to look at him.
Finally, there’s a smile breaking through his tears.
I lean in and try to kiss him, but he pulls back.
“Connor, I—” he starts, then stops, embarrassed. “God, I’m a mess. Let me just—” He gestures vaguely at his tear-streaked face, which is, admittedly, a complete disaster. “Let me wipe my face first.”
I smile at him, my chest so full it aches.
“Hold on,” I say, reaching for the glove compartment.
I pull out a packet of tissues—the kind they give you at a doctor’s office, which I keep there out of habit—and hand it to him.
Noah takes them gratefully and wipes his face, then blows his nose with a distinct lack of dignity that somehow makes me love him even more. When he’s done, he looks at me again, his eyes still red-rimmed but clearer now, searching my face.
“Are you serious?” he asks, his voice less shaky but still uncertain. “About…about loving me? You’re not just saying it because I said it first?”
“Noah,” I say softly. “I was trying to tell you at the picnic, before Rick’s stupid text came through.”
His eyes widen. “You were?”
I nod, reaching out to brush his cheek. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Not this fast. And it scares the shit out of me, actually.”
“Me too,” Noah whispers.
“Come here.”
I tug at him gently, and Noah hesitates for only a second before climbing awkwardly over the center console and into my lap.
It’s a tight fit—he’s not short, and my car isn’t exactly spacious—but we make it work, his knees on either side of my hips, his face hovering just above mine in the dim light of early dawn.
“Am I dreaming?” he asks, looking at me.
“You’re not,” I murmur, my hands finding his waist to keep him balanced. “I’m right here. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says, and hearing those words in his voice sends heat rushing through me. His hands frame my face, his touch careful as he leans down to kiss me.
I kiss him back, and it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. It’s short and soft, but it’s real.
When he pulls back, there’s something almost shy in his expression, a vulnerability that makes me want to wrap him up and protect him from everything bad in the world.
Including his ex.
“About Rick,” I say, because we should probably address the elephant in the room. “Are you okay? After everything that happened?”
Noah nods slowly. “I am. It was intense, and I feel bad for Cassidy, but…” He shrugs. “It’s over. It’s been over for a long time, really. I just needed to see it clearly.”
“And you do now?”
“Yeah,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “I do.”
“And you…” I draw the words out, not sure I want to be that person. “Are you sure you don’t love him anymore?”
Noah smiles and shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I love you, Connor.”
I nod, then ask, unable to stop myself, “And you were crying because…?”
Noah looks away, his cheeks flushing. “Because I thought I was going to lose you tomorrow. And I was scared to tell you the truth. I didn’t know you felt the same way.”
“I do,” I tell him, catching his chin and making him meet my eyes. “You should’ve asked me before crying your guts out. Could’ve saved yourself some fluid.”
Noah laughs, his face lighting up with a smile so warm I want to kiss him again.
For a few long minutes, we just stare at each other.
Then I take a deep breath, about to say something I know is completely insane. Something that’s probably going to make Noah think I’ve lost my mind. But the words are already forming, pushing their way up my throat, and I need to get them out.
“Move in with me, then,” I blurt out.
Noah blinks, his expression freezing.
“What?” he says for what has to be the tenth time in the last five minutes.
“Move in with me,” I repeat, more firmly this time, the idea taking shape even as I say it.
“Let’s find an apartment together. A real one in a good building, not the shithole we live in now.
Somewhere with actual insulation and walls thicker than paper.
I’ll pay for it. We can get a place with a yard. ”
Noah stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, his mouth slightly open.
“For Pumpkin,” I add quickly. “So we can adopt her right away.”
Noah’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, no sound coming out.
I’ve shocked him into silence.
Great job.
“Noah?” I say, looking at him. “Say something.”
Noah keeps staring at me. Then he finally manages, “Are you insane?”
My stomach drops, but before I can backpedal, Noah lets out a shocked, happy laugh that makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
“Don’t laugh,” I say, but I’m smiling too, my hands tightening on his waist. “I’m serious.”
“You’re proposing we move in together after one weekend of fake dating and one hookup?” Noah says, still laughing, his eyes bright with disbelief. “That’s insane. That’s rom-com logic.”
“So?” I challenge, feeling bold and reckless and completely in love with the man in my lap. “Who says rom-coms can’t be real life?”
“Well, not you. Have you seen yourself? You’re a serious guy with a serious job.”
“So?” I repeat. “Move in with me.”
Noah shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re scaring me. Are you one of those narcissists who’ll get tired of me in two weeks?”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“I’m not, I swear.”
God, I should’ve known Noah wouldn’t make a proposal like this easy.
He has no idea how out of character all of this is for me. I’ve spent my whole life being careful. Serious. Thinking every decision through before I make it. But my gut is telling me to do this. I know it’s right.
And if Noah weren’t staring at me with those big, confused eyes right now, I might have already asked him to marry me.
But that will have to wait.
For now.
Noah stares at me, his laughter fading into something more thoughtful.
“You’re really serious,” he says, and it’s not quite a question.
“I am,” I admit. “Look, I know it’s fast. I know we should probably date like normal people first. Get to know each other properly.
But Noah—” I swallow hard, my heart pounding.
“I already know I want you in my life. Not just for now. For good. What you said about being happy for the first time in a long time—I feel the same way. And if you want to date first, let’s date first. But I really hate my apartment, and I want a dog.
And I want you. I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you at night. So why the fuck wait?”
Noah’s breath catches. “Connor…”
“You don’t have to say yes right now,” I say. “Just…think about it. We can look at places together. Take it step by step.”
Noah is still looking at me with that stunned expression, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “You’re doing this for my parents, aren’t you?” he says, huffing out a laugh. “You’re just embarrassed that you lied to them.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe a little,” I joke, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “But mostly, I’m doing it for me. For us.”
“For Pumpkin too,” Noah adds with a small smile.
“Especially for Pumpkin,” I agree solemnly. “She needs us, Noah. Think of the dog.”
Noah laughs again, the sound lighter now, less shocked. “You’re completely insane,” he says, but there’s so much affection in his voice that I can’t even be offended.