Page 52 of Becoming Us
“Let’s just stay in,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my throat, then lower.
I reached for his hands, trying—halfheartedly—to peel them off me.
“You smell nice,” he whispered against my pulse point.
And that was all it took to get me hard.
“We’re going to be late,” I tried again, voice uneven.
“We don’t have to leave…”
I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. Come on. Let’s go.”
His grip on my waist tightened, and his lips froze mid-kiss. His breath spilled warm against my neck. “Noah…”
“Yeah?”
His fingers pressed harder into my side. “Why don’t you want me anymore?” The words came out low and fragile, hitting dead center in my chest.
“What?” I asked, thrown.
He sighed deeply. “As long as we’re being vulnerable…you keep pushing me back. You never used to—” He cut himself off, breathing in again. “You keep pushing me back.”
“Atty, of course I want you. I love you. Where’s this coming from?”
“You never want anything more than a couple of kisses. I don’t understand. You just stop.”
“Because I’m trying to keep things slow.”
“But you left,” he said, voice cracking. “You left, and it almost killed me.”
Forget speared—those words tore straight through me.
“I didn’t think something could hurt that bad. And now we’re here—you’re here—and it feels like I’m trying to grasp air. Like I can’t hold on to you, and it’s not real. It doesn’t feel real,” he kept going, clutching me harder around the waist.
I held on to his neck just as tight. “Atty?—”
“There’s so much space between us.”
“You know why?—”
He pulled back abruptly, cupping my face in both hands. He held me there, locking our eyes together. “Promise me you’re not going to leave again.”
“I’m not going to leave.”
“Swear it, Noah. On your life, mine, whoever—but mean it. Swear you’re never going to do that again.”
“I swear, Atty. I’m not going to leave.” I tried to meet his gaze, but my vision blurred. The hurt was etched so clearly on his face—in that tiny crease between his brows, in the sadness spilling from the depths of his blue eyes.
“Swear that you’re mine. That this is real.”
“I’m yours. Forever, if you want me. I’m always going to be yours. Atty, I’m—” He stopped me with a kiss; a hard one.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. “I don’t need more apologies. I just need you. Please,” he whispered, breath shaky against my lips. “Stop holding up this wall. I need you, Noah. I need?—”
That’s as far as I let him go.
I kissed him fiercely, one hand fisting in his hair, holding him there. Harsh. Deep. Consuming. I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed over him, pausing only long enough to flick off the light. The moonlight poured softly through the window, draping us both in shifting shadows. Just enough to see each other without revealing every detail.
