Page 30 of The Photo
“I think you’ll find yourself going to prison for murder.” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.
Chelsea cackles. “It would be worth it. Now, say your goodbyes and hurry back here.”
“I’ll be there soon. I promise.” I end the call and stomp across the room, tossing the phone into my bag.
This is it.
No steamy shower finale.
I whip off his t-shirt and reach for my dress. He brought it into the room last night when he went to get fresh water. It’s draped over his chest of drawers because he didn’t want it to get creased. It was a simple gesture. Considerate and thoughtful.
Noah and I never spoke of happily ever after’s or anything past the morning. There was no mention of a future, either alone or together. We both danced around the ending which ultimately leads to a handshake and a fond farewell.
“Are you leaving?” His voice is spiky, coming up behind me with the sound of tapping dog nails.
I smooth the dress over my hips and keep my gaze to the twisted bedsheets. “Yeah. Chelsea just rang. Our tutor wants to have a meeting before we leave the hotel. I have to go now, or I’ll get both of us in trouble.”
“Right. No time for a shower?”
I turn around on the spot, accepting that the vein to my heart is even more exposed. “Afraid not.”
His lashes lower. “How about a coffee or breakfast?”
“I’ll grab something at the hotel. I should get my travel bag from the room before checking out. I’d better go.” I gather my handbag at a snail’s pace, light-headed and woozy. My pulse crashes, and my tummy aches. “Is it weird to follow your social media account again?” I take a few quick steps away, then loiter in the doorway, wondering how to do this.
Noah runs a hand across his jaw. Those dark eyes cut to mine, and his face tightens. “I’d be offended if you didn’t follow me.” Suddenly, he stalks towards me. A hand fastens around my wrist. He jerks me into his chest. “I want your number, so I can call you anytime of the day or night, without the social media bullshit.”
“Sure.” That’s all I can say, entranced by soapy clean waft of man. I offer him my phone and watch him tap in his digits. “Noah.” His name comes out with a breath. I can’t define it. I know how I feel inside. “I’m leaving Canada today.”
He sweeps my hair up in a ponytail and secures my head in place right before him. Light pressure pushes my lips, stopping my undertone. “I know, and I promise you, Rowan, we’ll see each other again.” After his promise, I’m shocked by the intensity of our kiss. It’s slow, deep and sensual, then he suddenly breaks away. “We’ll figure something out.” The confident rumble reaches right inside me. I take a second to catch my breath. “One kiss with you isn’t enough, and one night wasn’t enough either.”
“We’d be foolish to think a long distance—” I stop myself short. The word relationship is such a binding word.
“Relationship? Is that what you’re searching for?” he says with a shy smile.
“Look, I think it's better if we don't make any promises.” He just stands there, staring at me with rich chocolate eyes searching mine. “This was a dream, Noah. And you know what happens when you dream, you wake up and realize it wasn’t real.”
“Don’t you think dreams can come true?”
“I’d love to believe wishes and dreams come true and magic wands are real. I would, but I’m going back to Ireland to finish college, and you have a life here.” I shrug dismissively.
I’m not trying to be so damn practical, but let’s face facts, there’s an airplane with my name on it, ready to leave Canada in a few hours.
My eyes scan his bare chest momentarily, and I moisten my lips like I’m preparing to lick him all over again.
“So that’s it then?” The sexy grin I love so much fades. “There’s no point trying. Is that what you’re saying?” Tension tightens his jaw, and his shoulders round.
A thick, fretful lump sticks in my throat. I swallow it loudly. “I’ll follow your account, Noah, like I’ve always done.”
He looks away for a brief second, and when he glances back, there’s emotion hidden in the depths of his stare. “You can follow me. But, I have your number and intend to use it.”
“It’s not like that. I’m scared it won’t be enough for you. You’ll get fed up. I mean, how can it work when we’re separated by land and sea.” I hate how tears want to sting my eyes.
He grins and tenderly brushes hair behind my shoulder. “I’ve never had phone sex before.” That word makes my heart leap. “The thought of watching you finger yourself is making my dick ache.” I giggle in a fluster. “You could wear sexy lingerie and parade up and down your bedroom for me.”
“I have four-leaf clover underpants,” I confess.
“Underpants?”
