Page 43 of Going the Distance
I still couldn’t believe he was here! Actuallyhere.I felt so dizzy with it; it completely overwhelmed all the nervousness I’d felt around our relationship lately.
Noah had talked to me through the bathroom door—his classes on Monday were canceled, so he’d decided to come home for the weekend and surprise me (which, he gloated, he’d done a damn good job of).
He said that after our (admittedly mostly one-sided) argument a couple weeks ago, about the incident with the photo, he’d decided to come visit, because he missed me and said that things were probably so tense between us because we hadn’t seen each other in so long.
“You could’ve picked a more opportune moment to show up. Like, five minutes later would’ve been great,” I’d called through the bathroom door, tearing off the last waxing strip. “Seriously. I’m mortified.”
“Because I saw you looking a little bit like Princess Fiona fromShrek?”
“Because I’m trying to maintain the illusion that I achieve this flawless beauty with absolutely no effort,” I’d joked, opening the door back up to him. “And now you know my secret.”
He bent his head to kiss me again. “You always look beautiful, Elle. Even with hairy legs and zits.”
Now I ran my fingertips over his cheek—he’d washed the face mask off—and over his nose, along the edge of his two-day beard, up around the shape of his eyebrows.
“What are you doing?”
“Just admiring my gorgeous boyfriend.” I kissed him. I’d forgotten how good it felt. Had kissing him always been like this? “I’ve missed you so much. Like, words could notdescribe.”
“I missed you more,” he protested, smirking a little. I shook my head and kissed him again, slowly and softly, trying to memorize how his tongue moved with mine. Who knew how long it’d be until I got to do this again? I was going to make every minute with him count.
When we did stop kissing, it was because a car pulled up outside: my dad and brother were back. We sat up. I straightened my shirt, and Noah stole another brief kiss before the door opened.
“We’re back,” my dad called out.
“In here.”
Brad was already running upstairs, yelling, “Hey, Elle! Hey, Levi!” He was probably under instructions to change out of a muddy soccer kit straightaway (healwaysgot muddy, and I was sure he did it on purpose) but my dad came into the living room—not before Noah raised an eyebrow at me for Brad yelling hi to Levi. I shrugged. He’d hung out here a lot over the last few weeks…more than Lee, actually.
Dad did a double take, staring at Noah with his mouth slack and eyes squinting. Noah’s arm was slung around me and he lifted it to wave. “Hey, Mr.Evans.”
Then he cleared his throat, composed his face. “Good to see you, Noah. Home for the weekend?”
“Yep. I haven’t got any classes on Monday, so figured I’d come see Elle for a couple days.” He punctuated it with a smile at me—with an expression so eerily like the soppy look I caught on Lee’s face when he was looking at Rachel that it made me blush.
Dad nodded. “And how is college? Your mom said you seem to have settled in well.”
Noah answered quickly, enthusiastically, and not at all like himself. “Yeah, it’s great. I’ve made some really good friends, and the football team is great, and my classes are really interesting. The only downside is having to do my own laundry,” he added, and they both laughed.
We stuck around for a while, and when my dad was out making himself some decaf coffee, and Brad was in bed, Noah’s lips grazed over my neck and his hand slid under my shirt. Warm and heavy and familiar and making my heart flip. He said softly, “Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?”
“Your parents won’t mind?”
“Have they ever? You have a toothbrush and deodorant in our bathroom. You have a drawer full of clothes in Lee’s room.”
“Yeah, but…I dunno, I feel like I have to check. It’s different now.”
He kissed my cheek, lips grazing over my skin toward my ear. “Hey, if you want to stay here instead, all by yourself…” He kissed my neck, just below my ear.
“Give me two minutes.”
I hurried upstairs to put on some appropriate clothes to leave the house in, and threw some essentials in an oversized purse—namely, clean (and cute) underwear and my cell phone charger—before putting on some shoes and heading back downstairs.
“I’m gonna stay over at Lee’s house,” I said to my dad. Then, seeing he was about to make some cringe-inducing comment about “being careful,” I added, “In the spare room.”
I had exactly zero intention of staying in the spare room: the box of condoms in my purse was a testament to that.
He nodded, like he didn’t want to hear more about it, but I didn’t miss the mildly disapproving look he cast me over the top of his glasses. “What time are you coming home?”
