Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Noah
I shouldn’t have stayed; I should have headed back to my room, but I didn’t want her to think that was all I came to her room for.
I miss her. Every part of her. She understands me in a way no one else does.
I have never been good at opening up and talking about my feelings, but with her, it feels as easy as breathing.
Over the years, I have been satisfied with the sneaking around, the stolen moments, but now I want to be with her and love her out loud, because that’s what she deserves.
I agreed that there were so many reasons why we couldn’t be an us, but when I have her curled into my side and her arm draped over my chest, all those reasons feel like excuses that cover up our fear.
Fear of what people might think or the fear of hurting those we love.
Fear that people may make their own judgment and draw their own conclusions about how and why we came to be.
I hate that I have to leave tomorrow, and it will be a little while before I can see her again, but I have some thinking to do and some decisions to make.
Tori stirs beside me, and I push her silky hair away from her face, and I feel my smile growing when she looks up at me through sleepy eyes.
In some alternative universe, there is a version of us that gets to wake up like this every day.
I have spent my whole adult life running and searching for something to fill this emptiness inside me, but being with her feels like coming home, and finally, I have a reason to stop running.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
She yawns. “Good morning. You stayed?”
“Yeah, I, I didn’t want to leave you,” I respond, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
Maybe even preparing myself for her to tell me this can’t happen again, and I need to leave, but she doesn’t.
She snuggles into me, and I hold her tighter.
Something warm and fuzzy blooms in my chest, and I press a kiss to the top of her head. This, this is what I want.
“I can’t seem to stay away from you. No matter how hard I try,” I admit.
“I feel the same. I try to fight it, but you have a way of making me cave.” She strokes my cheek with the pad of her thumb.
“Then why are we fighting it?” I ask. “If we both feel the same way, what are we doing? Surely there is a way we can make this work?”
“When do you leave again?” She asks softly, using the pad of her index finger to draw circles on my bare chest.
“Tomorrow,” I answer regretfully. “I don’t want to go, but I have to.”
She doesn’t say anything, just continues to mindlessly run her finger over my chest.
The air between us is thick with unspoken words. I know what I want to say, I just can’t get them out.
“How long will you be gone?”
“About two months, at a guess.”
She nods, and that sinking feeling in my stomach has me tightening my hold on her.
I don’t want to let her go. We have so much to talk about and not enough time.
We haven’t been able to be anything more than a collection of stolen moments over the last seven years, and so, for the first time, I decide to make us a priority.
“Will you come and meet me when I land, and stay with me so we can talk, and figure this out?” I ask nervously.
She lifts her head, her eyes sparkling. “Yes.”
I weave my fingers into her hair and pull her closer for a kiss.
My body instantly softens, tension and anxiety melting away with every stroke of her tongue, and I know I’ll never have this feeling with anyone else.
I know being with me is a lot. A lot of waiting, a lot of patience, and having a hell of a lot of faith and strength when everything is so uncertain.
I just hope she thinks I’m worth it all, because I know without a shadow of a doubt that she is.