Chapter Nine #2
The server continuously tops off my wine glass without asking, and I don’t stop him. The buzz is pleasant and fizzy, and I’m warm all over.
Every so often, Noah’s hand settles on my knee, light, far too fleeting. It’s maddening in a I might catch fire if this keeps up, or worse, if it stops kind of way.
Kate nudges me at one point, her gaze flicking to Noah’s hand and back to my face. I nearly choke on my drink. She just giggles and turns back to Miguel, not saying a word. She doesn’t need to. And I’m left here, skin buzzing, undone by the quietest touch.
By the time dessert arrives, one last candlelit moment for Kate’s birthday, everyone sings a little too loudly and off key.
The sky overhead sparkles. I glance at Noah, who’s watching me with that unreadable smile again, the one that makes my heart stutter just enough to remind me, oh yeah, this night does not have to be over yet.
After goodbyes, we step off the patio and into the hush of the beach, the dark stretching out around us. I turn toward him, swaying slightly.
“I just realized something,” I announce dramatically, arms raised.
Noah arches his brow, amused. “Oh?”
I point at him, steadying myself. “You wrote my go-to running song, yet I’ve never serenaded you with it.”
Before he can reply, I belt out a verse off-key and too loud.
He groans, tilting his head back. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” I declare, launching into a mash-up medley with maybe half the lyrics correct, the rest improvised.
Noah stands frozen, equal parts horrified and amused. “This is brutal,” he says, but his goofy smile betrays him. “You’re destroying the bridge.”
“I’m improving it,” I counter, spinning as I hit another dramatic note.
“Oh, wow,” he says, steadying my hips gently. “That’s an interesting take.”
I give an exaggerated wink. “You’re welcome.”
He bursts out laughing.
I pause, out of breath and smiling. “You’re enjoying this.”
“You’re gloriously unhinged.”
“Thank you,” I say, giving a little bow.
We fall into step, strolling barefoot along the shoreline, the tide rushing beside us. I start humming again, unbothered and at ease. Noah doesn’t stop me. Instead, he joins in on the parts I skip, matching my melody and nudging me when I fumble.
I tilt my head. “You’re not secretly laughing at me, are you?”
He shakes his head. “Not even a little.”
His gaze drifts across my face like he’s memorizing me. Then with a tenderness that sets my pulse beating faster, he says, “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever liked that song as much as I do right now.”
We slow to a stop, the rhythm of our steps lost to the hush of the ocean. A few stars overhead waver in the dark, but I only see Noah, close enough that my heartbeat echoes in my chest.
He takes both my hands, strong and steady. I feel an electric certainty. He steps closer, free hand brushing a loose strand of hair from my temple. His fingertips softly graze across my jaw.
A laugh catches in my throat, nervous, hopeful. His thumb rests gently on my cheek, a quiet punctuation to every moment that led here. I lift my gaze toward his lips, and in that quiet, breathless beat, he leans in.
The kiss is slow and sure, setting my pulse racing.
When I pull back, he rests his forehead against mine.
Then he whispers my name and brushes his lips against mine again softly.
I don’t dare move. Our bodies are pressed together and his hand is tracing my arm and it’s so hypnotic that I could just melt right here.
When we pull apart, I’m dizzy with the quiet pull of this new gravity between us. And he just watches me, steady, like he wants the moment to last, too.
“That was…” I start, but the words tangle in my throat.
I slap a hand over my mouth, stunned, and then I laugh. It spills out, breathless and tipsy, the kind of laugh that sounds like disbelief and giddiness all at once.
Noah watches me, smiling like he’s not sure whether to be concerned or charmed.
“What are you laughing at?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I gasp, which only makes it worse.
He catches me in his arms, laughing now, too, as he pulls me close.
“Okay, let’s get you home,” he murmurs against my temple, voice rough around the edges. Another kiss follows, this one featherlight on my forehead.
When we reach my back door, the porch light casts a soft pool of gold around us. Noah doesn’t let go of my hand right away.
He studies me for a beat, head tilted, mouth tugged into a smile with a gaze I’m finding harder and harder to resist. “Alright,” he says, a hint of regret in his voice. “This is where I say goodnight.”
Wait. Goodnight?
“You don’t want to come in?” I ask, trying to sound casual and failing completely.
His smile shifts, same curve but new depth. Something laced with heat. One hand rises, fingers grazing the beads on my dress strap, then traces up the side of my neck.
“I’ve already imagined what happens if I stay,” he says quietly. “That’s exactly why I can’t.”
My breath catches. “Oh,” I say, stupidly. “Okay.”
His thumb drifts along my jaw. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. Tension crackles in the air between us, sparking hotter because it doesn’t ignite.
“You have no idea how much I want to,” he says. “But not tonight.”
And then he kisses me. Slow at first. Deliberate. Then faster, hungrier, like he’s sealing it in. Like he’s making sure I remember. My fingers curl into his shirt and pull him into me without thinking. I don’t want him to stop.
But he does. He pulls away and his fingers linger against my wrist.
“Good night, Briland,” he murmurs. Then he turns, hands in his pockets, and walks into the warm dark like he hasn’t just undone me.
Twenty minutes later, I’m still floating. I was so dazed in the shower, I stood there for a full minute trying to remember if I’d already conditioned my hair. I did it again just to be sure. Possibly a third time. My hair has never been silkier.
Now, tucked into bed, damp hair in a towel, my phone chimes on the nightstand.
I reach for it and forget how to breathe.
It’s a photo from dinner. A candid. I’m mid-laugh, leaning against Noah, my whole body angled toward him.
But it’s his expression that unravels me.
He’s looking at me like I’m his favorite song.
Before I can even process the soft detonation in my chest, another text lights up the screen.
Unknown Number: Girl, he is so smitten.
A beat later:
Unknown Number: This is Kate btw.
A squeak escapes me as I drop the phone against my chest, grinning like a lunatic. My cheeks are on fire, my heart a loud drumbeat in my ears. I stare at the photo until I fall asleep.