Chapter 13
T his was the best first date I’ve ever had,” Noah said, as they left the funky Thai restaurant and strolled down the street. She lived close by, and he had parked at her apartment before they walked over.
He took her hand in his and she didn’t pull it away. It sent a feeling of pure warmth and light through her—his long fingers entwined with hers. She was only two months away from graduating and going out into the world. The last thing she needed was a distraction.
But Noah was irresistible to her. She squeezed his hand, and bravely leaned into him. Instinctually, as if they’d done this a hundred times, he put his arm around her shoulder and tugged her in.
It was later than she thought it was, because the street was mostly empty. Noah removed his arm and faced her. He tucked a strand of wavy brunette hair behind her ear and cupped her face. She closed her eyes and softly moaned at the intimacy.
“Have you ever been in love, Charlotte?”
“No,” she said. He traced circles on her collarbone while goose bumps popped up on her arms. “Fundamentally unlovable, remember?” There had only ever been one other person that she’d responded to this strongly—Alex.
But she had been a rash and unpredictable teenager then, and nothing had ever happened.
It hadn’t been love, she was almost sure of that.
“I’m not convinced of this unlovable thing,” Noah insisted.
“Have you?”
“Loved you? No, not yet.”
Her stomach jumped at the yet . She wanted him but she didn’t want to want him. She felt herself drawn to him recklessly, like she could forget herself too easily if she wasn’t careful.
“Have you ever been in love, with someone, I meant.”
“No,” he revealed. “Crushes. Lust. But nothing real. Nothing like—no, nothing real.”
He didn’t need to say “nothing like this” because it hung between them.
“This is happening very fast,” she said to him. His hand was now on the back of her neck, under her hair, tentative and heated. She wanted him to pull her closer. He couldn’t stop looking at her mouth.
“Too fast?” he murmured, leaning in.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“I really need to kiss you right now,” he whispered. “Can I?”
Her breath caught in her throat and for once, she wasn’t thinking. Or guarding. Or keeping herself at a distance from everything and everyone. She simply nodded, because she needed the same thing.
He took his time with her. Stroked his hand across her cheek, trailed a fingertip down her neck, caught her eyes in his and she matched the intensity.
He placed both of his hands on her face and when he kissed her, it was so delicate and urgent that she melted into him.
She had kissed people before, but not like this.
This was the type of kiss where the world stopped turning, when you realized that nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life ever felt as good as this man’s lips on yours.
She groaned into his mouth and he kissed across her cheek and whispered, “Those little sounds of yours are going to kill me.”
She giggled—giggled!—and felt like she had become an entirely different version of herself in the space of one dinner.
This was why people wrote love songs. This was why people set their life on fire for love.
This was passion. This was the type of passion her mom had been telling her about her entire life.
She’d never felt it before. Never understood it. Until now.
She put her arms around Noah’s neck and kissed him even more intensely, swept her tongue into his mouth, and this time he was the one making those little sounds. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything before.
“Careful,” he said, breathless, but staying close. She could feel him talking on her lips. “I may have to prove you wrong.”
“About what?” she asked, raspy, low.
“You, being unlovable.”
She heard more than felt her gasp.
“Who are you?” she asked, because she suddenly couldn’t understand how she got here. He was a stranger merely days before, but now she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Didn’t want to imagine it.
“Who are you?” he asked back. “This is so weird. I feel like I’m one kiss away from being completely in love with you.
And I don’t know you. But I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.
” He was watching her now, their faces so close together, and she wanted to tell him she didn’t feel the same, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t lie.
“I don’t understand this,” she said. “Because that’s how I feel, too. And I’m not even a romantic person.”
He smiled wryly. “I’m beginning to think you don’t know yourself that well. Unlovable? No. Romantic? Yes.”
“I am not this person who gets swept away.”
“Or maybe you just haven’t let yourself.”
“What about your flaws, then?” she asked, hands on her hips now. The moment had cooled, but a heat still reverberated between them. He started walking, and grabbed her hand again.
“I am a hopeless romantic stuck in a nightmare,” he said.
“Dramatic.”
“No, really,” he replied. “I want the adventure. I want a surprising and unpredictable life. But, the moment I graduate, my dad wants me back home so he can train me to take over the family business. He does the kind of soulless investment banking that I am vehemently opposed to. He says he’ll cut me out of both the family and my trust fund if I don’t comply.
But all I want to do is to go travel. See the world.
Do it on the cheap. Stay in hostels, go by bus or train, eat from food stalls, whatever. ”
She had no idea what came over her, or why she didn’t stop herself, but she said, “Can I come?” She had never wanted to do anything but get a corporate or start-up job out of school, but suddenly the idea of traveling around the world with just a backpack and Noah sounded like the greatest idea ever.
It was reckless. And ridiculous. And exactly the kind of thing Jackie Quinn would encourage.
It made her feel close to her mom, like she was actually her daughter, after all.
Like she had some of her mom’s courage within her.
Like she wasn’t the black sheep she’d always worried she was.
Sliding off the armor of control and responsibility was surprisingly easy.
“You want to?” he asked. “I’ll go if you go.”
“Will your parents allow it?”
“I doubt it,” he said.
She couldn’t imagine being in the position he was in.
She had no inheritance, nothing to really lose.
It would seem callous to tell him not to care about his father’s approval or about money that would rightfully be his, even if she felt he didn’t need it and could make his own way if he wanted to.
He certainly had the determination needed to make it.
But it wasn’t her place to dictate how he interacted with his family.
She knew firsthand that family dynamics were much more complicated than black-and-white, right or wrong.
She knew you could love people who hurt you, too.
“Where would we go first?” she asked instead.
“Italy,” he answered, quickly, like he knew the itinerary already. “No, Japan! Wait, maybe Portugal. Or, God, what about Brazil? Australia? New Zealand?” He was getting more animated and she was smiling up at him, adoringly. “How do you choose, Charlie? There’s so much to experience!”
She had promised she was not the type of person to be swept away, but she was swept up in Noah.
Swept up in his infectious way of seeing the world as one big adventure to explore.
He had a punishing father and a virtually absent mother and experienced a lonely childhood, but here he was, dreaming of places he wanted to go with her.
“We’ll go everywhere,” she said. “Every single place we want to go.”
“You mean it? Don’t you want to get a job after college?”
“A job can wait.”
“What would your mom think?”
She laughed. “My mom would tell me to go and never look back.”
“Ugh,” he said. “That makes me a little jealous.”
Huh , she thought. Maybe she hadn’t appreciated her mom enough.
“I’ll share her with you,” she told him, and he beamed.
“When we get married,” he joked, but she could tell he was serious about it, too.
Surprisingly the thought of marrying him didn’t make her feel claustrophobic.
“Yes,” she joked back. “When we get married.”
It felt natural to her. She had no idea why, or how, but she supposed she had to admit that she was predisposed to believing in soulmates and fated meetings, simply because her mom had instructed her on it over and over.
And now, here was her chance to meet fate and let herself finally live.
I was still on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, and for the first time since these scenes had started making their way back into the forefront of my mind, they weren’t just making me upset.
It was nice, even for a moment, to remember the good times, too.
To remember who I used to be, even if that version of myself had been fleeting and was now gone forever.