Page 61 of Into The Light
"You're smart. Beautiful. Hard-working. Successful. About to own your own business." I swallow bitterness rather than let it infect my words. "I'm an ex-con working demolition. My recordain’t going anywhere, Noelle. You may see more in me, and that means a whole fuckin' lot to me, but not everyone else will. I get that. Can't change it, and neither can you."
Noelle squeezes my hand. "My sisters are good people. They just… sometimes have their own way of expressing themselves about things. They’ve also been through a lot of their stuff. They meant well."
"I know. Can't say it doesn’t bother me a little, but that's on me. They didn't say anything that wasn't true. The part about you being able to do better is subjective." I let out a breath. "I like spending time with you. I wanna get to know you. We can back off on the physical stuff till you're comfortable with it. You wanna keep hanging out with me, I'll gladly take all the time you're willing to give me."
She smiles. "I like spending time with you, too, Bear. Very, very much. So you'll see a lot more of me, okay? Promise."
Ten
NOELLE
Over the next couple of months, Bear and I find a rhythm. After he’s done working, he goes home to shower and change, and I meet him at the shelter when I’m done. We take Panzer to the dog park, go somewhere to eat, or go to one of the local hiking trails outside town and walk together and talk.
The more I get to know Bear, the more I appreciate the man he is. He's considerate, thoughtful, and sweet. He has a very dry, subtle sense of humor, and is quite articulate and intelligent.
On Fridays, he joins me and my crew for Trivia night, and with his added voice, we win several times.
We aren't alone in private together—which is hard for me. I crave him. It's honestly a little scary how much I want him. Every minute I’m around him, I'm hyperaware of his presence. His warmth. his strength. We hold hands a lot, but that's about as far as it goes, physically. He never pushes. Never seems impatient.
I dream of him. Naughty dreams—kissing him. His hands on me. His mouth.
Frustratingly, though, the dreams never go beyond that—I wake up horny, overheated, and impatient.
And I can't bring myself to bring myself the release I need—it feels wrong to go there without him, even in the privacy of my mind.
I'm not sure what the female version of blue balls is, but I have it. Badly.
Ugh.
I find myself wondering if he thinks of me like that—if he wants me as badly as I want him.
I catch him looking at me a lot—I feel his eyes on me.
Part of me wants him to just grab me and kiss me and not stop. Push me past my hangup. But he's respecting the boundaries I've set.
What a pickle.
When is it enough? How long do I wait?
Around two months after the cookout at my parents, I meet Raina for lunch.
Of my friend group, Raina is the most like me. Raised conservative and religious—her Muslim to my Christian—despite our differences in orthodoxy, we share a lot in common. She, too, left the faith to a degree; like me, she hasn’t completely abandoned her beliefs, she just doesn’t adhere to the legalistic restrictions she was born into. She doesn’t wear the hijab regularly—she does wear it to go to the mosque and when visiting her with her family. She does date, but she’s careful about whom and takes things very slowly.
So, if any of my friends can understand what I'm struggling with, it's her.
We meet at The Alt Cafe, an adorable little farm-to-table spot at the south end of town just off Main Street overlooking Crooked Trout River, specializing in vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free offerings. It's a bright, open, airy space with eclectic, mismatched furniture, handmade industrial lighting, and local artwork for sale on the walls. Owned by Lainey and LaylaCartwright, sisters a few years older than me, it’s a popular hangout for the less mainstream crowd.
Lainey is behind the counter taking orders while Layla makes the food. Most of the tables are full, leaving us a small two-top in the corner. We sip our green juice smoothies while we wait for our food.
At the table next to us, a young woman around our age sits alone. She's got white-blond hair, skin tanned a lovely golden color, wearing a boho, hippy, patchwork skirt and a bandeau around her chest, exposing a pierced belly button. She's reading a giant text on veterinary medicine and taking notes, earbuds in her ear and a pair of knitting needles keeping her long, thick, herringbone-pattern braided hair in a coiled bun. If I had to guess, the vintage VW Bus with all the stickers parked out front belongs to her.
Raina smiles as she glances at our table neighbor. "She must be new in town—I’ve seen her here several times over the past few months.” She sips her smoothie. "So. What's up with you and Bear?"
I sigh, sit back, and rub my face with both hands. "I'm stuck, Raina."
She leans forward, grabbing my wrist. "Stuck how? Tell me everything."
I grin. "Why do you think we're meeting for lunch?" I shake my head, my grin fading. "I just don't know what to do. When we first met, I was…I dunno. All in. Super attracted to him right off the bat."
