Chapter 22
Liv
Heated skin.
Hard muscles.
Heartbeats steady in his chest.
Waking up to Noah has its perks. I’ve never felt safer, more cared for, and lov—I shouldn’t think about that five-letter word. It’s too soon for feelings that hold that much weight in the world, much less my heart.
The sun shines across his chest, and I don’t blame the light one bit for wanting to touch him.
I do too. I kiss his shoulder, not wanting to wake him before I slip out of bed.
Pulling on a T-shirt, I grab a pair of cheekies to wear before sneaking out of the closet to go to the kitchen, careful to quietly close the door to the bedroom behind me.
I slept like a baby after our activities last night.
This morning, my body is loose like I had a great massage, though my thighs let me know that muscles that haven’t been used in years are still there.
All the kinks have been worked out, and I’m ready to tackle the day.
Though kinks are relative this morning. Last night was a different story.
There’s no embarrassment with Noah. I can do whatever feels good, and he’s all about it. That has me thinking that I might want to try new things with him. It’s a little early for the tingling below my stomach. Coffee is needed first, and then maybe I’ll wake him up.
While the coffee brews, I click the remote to raise the shades and let the sunlight brighten my place.
I sit on a dining chair and kick my feet up on the windowsill, taking in the city.
It’s an incredible view, but Noah’s apartment is still on my mind.
I’ve always appreciated my place, but it’s exhilarating to think about a new perspective here and there.
I’m jumping a few steps ahead, but what if we were more than just co-parenting?
It’s silly to even consider a relationship at this stage.
Maxwell needs to come first. Always. But this contentment I’m experiencing, the happiness that fills my bones is welcomed with open arms. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so good, and Noah is a part of the reason.
Maxwell is the love of my life, but maybe my heart has started making room for someone else.
It’s early, but I text my mom: I told Noah he’s Maxwell’s father.
My mom has always been an early-bird riser, so I’m not shocked when my phone rings. I answer, “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you. How are you? How did the conversation go? How did he react?”
I glance back toward the bedrooms as if I’ll wake them. Whispering, I reply, “I’m so happy, Mom.”
“This is great news. What happened?” She doesn’t sound suspicious, though her question tilts it in that direction. She’s been my rock my entire life, and I want to tell her everything, but some things about Noah and I should remain between us.
“There’s so much to discuss and figure out, but seeing him with Maxwell . . .” I grip the phone tighter, holding it closer to my mouth. “He’s a natural, and Maxwell already adores him.”
“Olivia, that makes my heart so happy to hear. What a relief to have a dream reaction from him.”
“It is a relief. As much as I tried to prepare myself for the worst, he did the opposite and stepped in for Maxwell and for me.” I take a breath.
“It’s so good. But is it too good to be true?
I’m so happy that I almost can’t trust my own instincts.
” I lower my feet, a new fear hijacking my happiness.
Happiness has never lasted, so when will the other shoe drop?
I’m overthinking this. What happens tomorrow happens tomorrow. Today, I need to stay in the moment and enjoy each day. Trust your gut, Liv.
“The hardest part is over. You know his response to the situation. From here, the two of you will decide how to move forward.”
Standing, I walk to the window and stare out—a quiet home behind me and the early morning sounds of the city waking up outside. “Mom?”
“I’m here,” she whispers as if we’re surrounded by eavesdroppers. She lives alone, so I glance behind me once more to make sure I still am.
The coast is clear. “Am I being too trusting? Should I be worried?”
“If you trust Noah, it’s because he’s proven you can.
I think you’re worried about the unknown, which is natural.
” There’s a pause, and then she says, “You told him the truth. You told him because you knew it would be best for Maxwell. Focus on that. How it plays out with custody is currently out of your hands.”
Is it out of my hands?
I have no doubt she’ll hire the best lawyers if this ends up in a court battle, but I really hope it doesn’t.
“I have a confession.” Really, I’m just bursting at the seams to tell someone.
“What is it?”
“I slept with him.” I’m met with silence.
“Oh.” Another pause sucks the air out of the conversation. “Well, once won’t do any—”
“A couple of times.” I wobble my head back and forth. “And a few other acts that would fall under the same categories.”
“Oh, um . . . Alright.” She’s flustered and stumbling through her thoughts. Out loud. I wasn’t trying to shock her. I need advice. “Hmm.”
“I’m telling you because I need to share it with someone, Mom. If it’s too much . . .”
“No, it’s not too much. It’s not something I want to think about either, but you’re a woman with needs that should be met. That’s where your father struggled.”
“I hate to be mean, but I don’t think I can handle a conversation about you and Dad having sex.”
“That was the problem. We weren’t having sex.”
La la la la la.
It’s tempting to plug my ears, though I know I’m in the wrong. I’m a grown woman who should be able to talk about these things. It’s just so weird when it comes to my own parents.
She says, “This isn’t something I want to relive. Just know that I understand. You’re twenty-seven. You should have an active sex life, Olivia.”
The woman is gorgeous and funny, endearing and wise beyond her years. I can’t imagine life without her, but I also want her to find happiness as well. “So should you, Mom.”
“Oh, I do,” she replies. Was that a giggle?
“You do? I thought—”
“I don’t need a husband or even a boyfriend, for that matter. I don’t even need a human to have an active sex life—”
“Mom.” I shake my head, needing not to have these images populating my mind.
“I’m just saying that some great products are on the market these days.”
Wait, what? Did she just say . . . oh God. “Okay. I got it.”
“I can send you one of my favorites.”
“I’m good.” Noticing a pigeon on a window ledge across the street, I’m glad for the distraction from this conversation and the other reason is because the coffee’s ready and I need to down a cup. “I’ve got all that covered.”
“And I have a few regulars on speed dial.”
“A few? Mom . . .”
“Sorry, TMI. Let’s get back to you and Noah.”
I almost feel bad for cutting her off, but damn, this is a lot to process about your sweet, innocent mom. Apparently, she’s not so innocent, and I’m kind of proud of her.
Returning to the chair, I wrap my hands around the hot cup.
My thoughts are all over the place. As much as it’s been interesting and eye-opening to talk to my mom so openly about our love and lack of love lives, my worries are always nipping at my happiness.
“I’m worried that . . .” I want to harness my feelings and turn them into words with meaning.
I struggle under the halo of last night and the warmth that’s come over me when I think of Noah.
But taking a breath, I then ask, “What if he’s being nice to—”
“You just told me you’re happy. Happy, Olivia,” she reminds me. “You can worry about this to the point of pushing him away, but don’t ignore how he makes you feel. Your intuition matters.”
“What if my intuition is wrong about Noah?”
“Honey, you can run a million what-ifs around your head, but until you two talk, it won’t do you any good.”
I know that’s true, but it won’t change anything until I get answers. I don’t want to be blindsided. We need to get this settled. “I don’t want to lose Maxwell.”
“You won’t, but you may have to offer Maxwell the opportunity to get to know his father alone.”
Maxwell spending time with Noah means I’d be alone as well. I’d miss him so much that my heart aches simply from the thought. “I hate the idea of the alone part.”
“Let’s not get caught up in guessing and focus on what’s real.” I nod, though she can’t see me. “What are you and Maxwell doing today?”
It’s a good transition to get me out of my head. My mom knows me too well. “He’s still sleeping, but no official plans.”
“I could come over and spend some time with my grandbaby. That might give you and Noah a chance to talk privately and sort out some details before going into the week ahead.”
Have I mentioned she’s the best? She is. Who needs a dad when you have a Trudy? “Thank you. Let me talk to him when he gets up, and I’ll let you know.”
“He stayed over? Oh my, dear daughter.” She sighs, but I can almost hear her joy. “You both are moving fast.”
“Having a kid together pretty much sealed that fate.”
She laughs. “I guess it did. Well, my little Maxie is just the sweetest boy. I can come over, or you can drop him off at mine. Just let me know in a little while.”
“I will, and thank you.”
“Good morning.” Deep and sultry. Noah’s voice carries across the room and caresses me just before his arms do. Kissing the side of my head, he applies a gentle pressure to give him better access. So I do because when I close my eyes, this is what I imagine heaven to feel like.
“Gotta run,” I say, getting sucked into his world. Happily.
“By—”
I leave the phone on the sill and turn to face him, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck and staring into the hazel of his eyes.
The gold is brighter in the diffused morning light.
A lazy grin slides into place as his hands hold my waist and then slide lower to my ass.
He gives a good squeeze and asks, “Why are you up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”