Chapter 2
Serra
Ihate you. I miss you. I need to taste you.
Those were the three thoughts floating through my mind. The words drifting along the clouds where my feet were firmly planted as Noah Jordan’s tongue moved inside of my mouth.
Noah. Fuckin’. Jordan.
The man who one day long ago, purchased a large butter pecan flavored coffee with extra sugar, tossed the drink in the trashcan, then stood in line to purchase another one, just so he could stand behind me and start a conversation.
That happened on a Tuesday morning, at a little off campus coffee shop that had the best bacon, egg, and cheese bagel I’d ever tasted.
Two weeks later he became the first man I ever slept with.
Nine months after that, he walked out of my dorm room, and I didn’t see him again. Until today.
And five seconds ago, his lips crashed over mine.
Now, my body hummed a tune I thought long forgotten, as Noah and I kissed like there wasn’t a little over a decade between us.
We still recognized each other, that much was clear.
Not just at first sight, the way my heart slammed into my ribcage the second I stepped onto this elevator and saw him.
But that invisible thread that had woven its way around us that day in the coffee shop and continued to create a bond I never imagined breaking.
That touch my body craved every day we were together and for hundreds of days after the break-up.
That door that only Noah held the key to, the space in my heart that only he could fill.
That connection was dangerous back then. It was life-threatening now, in a way much more significant than before.
Yet, I didn’t pull away. Instead, I barely registered my purse falling to the floor.
The hand that formerly held it snaked around his waist, my other palm flattening on his chest. His still muscled, still warm and hard and damned delectable chest. Noah always had a great body.
Spending at least an hour each day in the gym easily paid off for him.
Meanwhile, I had to sweat and grunt my way to maintaining the barest level of fitness.
“So damn sweet,” he whispered when he pulled his mouth from mine and we both took a breath.
“So damn good,” I replied with the words that always came after his declaration. I opened my eyes to gaze up into his, my chest heaving, pussy pulsating.
His brow furrowed, thick lines creasing his cinnamon-hued skin.
Lust and irritation warred in his dark smoldering eyes.
My eyes probably mirrored the same emotions, the same regret.
Which meant I should say something. Should move away from him, break the connection…
do the right thing. Again. But I hesitated and Noah, he did what he always did, he acted.
His hand moved from my upper arm where it rested while we kissed, to lightly grip my neck.
Instinctively, I sucked in a breath and leaned into his hold.
My eyes fluttered and my thighs clenched.
I never forgot how much I loved when he held me like this with his touch and his gaze.
I couldn’t move, was locked in until he chose to release me.
The reaction was automatic and probably toxic as hell, but I lacked the strength to fight it.
Especially when his other hand left my waist to ease down to my ass.
His long fingers gripped my cheek with the amount of tightness that sent a sting of pain straight between my legs.
My eyes closed, and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as urges I hadn’t felt in way too long burst onto the scene.
“Look at me, Serra,” he said through gritted teeth.
When I didn’t immediately do so, his fingers tightened around my neck. I gasped, eyes shooting up to find his still glued on me.
“You took this away from me,” he continued. “Away from us.” The last words were spoken more forcefully, hurt hanging on the fringes of each one.
I wanted to apologize; to tell him I shouldn’t have started the argument, shouldn’t have let things get out of control that day. But the fact of the matter was that I should’ve known better. Should’ve known I wasn’t available for whatever it was we’d been doing.
He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “Why?”
The question was barely audible, but his hand moving again kept me from having to respond. Now, he was gripping the back of my thigh. Moaning, he lifted my leg and wrapped it around his waist.
Curse this wrap dress that I thought was the prettiest shade of purple and thus had to have since that was my favorite color. My bare thigh was in his grasp; his lips were now at my ear.
“You took this away,” he whispered, then captured my lobe between his teeth.
His hand inched up higher on my thigh, pulling me even closer to him. I arched into the embrace, needed every ounce of his rage to pour into his touch, his words, to drown me. To cover me in all that I knew was familiar, all that had made me feel cherished and safe before.
“Noah,” was all I could say. “Noah.”
A loud boom filled the space and the elevator jolted.
He didn’t immediately release me and I made no move to pull away.
However, the slight drop in my stomach followed by a whooshing sound signaled the elevator was moving again.
I closed my eyes as my chest continued to heave, reality filling my system like oxygen.
My hands slowly fell from him, fingers pressing against the wall.
Seconds later he stepped away from me. I struggled not to speak, not to beg him to put his hands on me once more.
A ding echoed through the air and my eyes popped open, but I didn’t look at him.
Instead, I bent at the knee and grabbed the strap of my purse.
Noah moved. I could see his jean clad legs in my peripheral as I stood.
His perfect ass and sculpted back in the black T-shirt that fit him like a glove.
Flashbacks of how I used to drag not only my hands and nails over that gorgeous, taut skin, but also my tongue.
In moments those brisk fall nights spent exploring each other’s bodies in his bed, that first snow day that classes had been canceled and we stayed wrapped in blankets on his couch alternating sex, food, and watching Jason Bourne search for his identity, all flashed in my mind.
I reached out, clasping my fingers around the bar on the wall to steady myself.
That memory was accompanied by a rush of emotions that left me lightheaded, and my stomach churned.
I glanced up as I heard the elevator doors open and found him looking over his shoulder at me.
His brow was furrowed, those hot molten eyes locked in.
He wanted to say something, to ask more questions, or hurl more accusations at me.
I looked away and quickly stepped around him.
As soon as the doors were open, I stepped off, anxious to get the hell away from him.
Away from the memories and the pain that inevitably accompanied them.
His hand on my arm stopped me.
He stopped me. The way I once upon a time wished I would’ve stopped him.
Anger immediately replaced that disappointment and I yanked out of his grasp. “Let me go!” I shouted the words, then hated myself since a small group of people were gathered in the hallway.
No doubt they’d been waiting for the elevator and had grown concerned when the uniformed firefighter showed up instead.
That guy—with his short-cropped sandy brown hair and dust of freckles over a creamy-hued face—stared at me now with wide eyes.
I didn’t bother to give the others my attention, but knew they were staring, too.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” I said, my voice lower this time as I huffed. My fingers tightened on the strap of my purse as I adjusted it on my shoulder again.
“Are you?” Noah snapped back, the vulnerability in his tone from just moments ago, gone. “Or do you get off running hot and cold with me?”
Narrowing my gaze, I took a step closer to him because what I was about to say was for his ears only. “Don’t go there with me,” I said. “Don’t ever go there with me again. Is that cold enough?”
I hoped and prayed it was because what happened in that elevator could never happen again. Whatever that connection was between us back there had to remain in the past. I knew that now more than ever.
“Are you two cool?” the firefighter asked. “Anybody need a paramedic?”
“We’re good,” Noah replied without taking his eyes off me. “Thanks for taking your sweet time coming to get us, Timmy.”
Timmy the firefighter chuckled. “You’re welcome, and you owe me a beer. I’ll be collecting later tonight.”
“Whatever, man,” Noah said.
He stood now with his legs slightly parted.
He dragged a hand down the lower half of his face, the low, precisely-cut beard that had filled in nicely.
In college, he had a goatee that I loved, but the beard was sexy as hell, too.
The version of Noah I’d loved with every ounce of my being was a handsome guy enrolled in the general studies curriculum because he hadn’t decided what he wanted to be when he grew up.
This new version stood like he knew exactly who he was, how damn good he looked, and that he could have anything he wanted.
Unless what he wanted was me. And, for real, I wasn’t totally sure that was true. He accused me of going hot and cold, but he was pretty good at doing the same damn thing.
“Goodbye, Noah,” I said so softly it was almost like I didn’t really want him to hear it.
Like I didn’t actually want him to go. Again.
But that was foolish. Every second of this impromptu reunion was foolish.
I wasn’t back in Providence for this. No, I had a whole other weight on my shoulders these days, one that being in Noah’s presence was only going to make worse.
So, I turned away. I put one foot in front of another, decisively and reluctantly at the same damn time.
“It amazed me how easily you could walk away before,” he said from too close behind me.
Why the hell was he following me? Last time, he’d walked out that door and hadn’t looked back. Why wasn’t he doing the same now?
It didn’t matter. None of this did. It was the past. My future, my job, the lifestyle I’d been carefully cultivating was the present.
It was the priority. So I kept walking until I made it to the front doors of the municipal building.
I pushed the glass door open and stepped out into the warm mid-May afternoon.
“Amazed me and pissed me the fuck off,” he said, obviously coming out of the same door behind me.
If I let myself, I would feel him there. Feel his massive presence not only in his six-foot, two-inch stature, easily two hundred plus pounds, and scowling sexy ass face, but also in the memories he carried with him. The weight of disregarded possibilities and mix-matched personalities.
I whirled around to face him, ire, regret, and purpose on overload. “What do you want me to say?” I asked. “What? That I was wrong? I’m sorry? I hate you?”
His head jerked back as if I’d slapped him, then he pushed both hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“Wow,” he said. “You hate me?” He nodded. “That didn’t feel like hate in the elevator.”
“No. It didn’t,” I admitted. “That was impossibility.” Tears stung my eyes, and I immediately looked away. “For the record,” I said, my voice shakier than I wanted it to be. So, I cleared it. I squared my shoulders and brought my gaze back to him.
I could do this. I could look Noah in his eyes and tell him exactly what I was feeling right now. I could be totally honest in a way I’d failed to be before.
“I don’t hate you,” I said, leaving out the basic truth that a part of me would always love him. “But I’m not here to do this with you again.”
“Why are you here, Serra?” he asked. “Why, of all the places in the world for you to pop up, would it be here, in my hometown?”
“My grandfather’s hometown,” I replied, unfairly annoyed that he hadn’t remembered. “I’m here visiting my grandfather.” Another partial truth when I’d been so certain I could be honest with him now.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s right. Crabtree’s your grandfather.” The chuckle that came from him was dry. “Okay. That makes sense.”
“I honestly didn’t expect to see you,” I said.
“This pollen has been terrible for him. He was congested and miserable this morning, so I told him I’d run a few of his errands for him today.
” I shrugged because in the midst of the chaos my life had been thrust into, my Pop Pop would always be a priority.
“Yeah, I’m not usually over on this side of town either but I had some business to handle.” Sighing, he looked away.
“I’ll stay out of your way. I know this is a small town, but we don’t have to see each other. But if we do…” I paused, swallowed, and waited until his gaze returned to me. “If we do, we can be cordial.” I wouldn’t dare say we could be friends because I knew that wasn’t possible.
The reaction between us on that elevator proved a platonic friendship wasn’t possible. It was all or nothing with us, always had been.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “we can be cordial.”
“Okay. Good.” A breeze lifted the ends of my hair and my not-so-steady fingers pushed the tendrils behind my ear. “Take care, Noah.”
“You do the same, Serra.”
This time, we both walked away.