Noah releases a slow breath, pondering his answer. “I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times. From the moment Iwatched you take down that man who tried to run off with you, I—”
“What?” I bark out, flabbergasted. “I took down the kidnapper?”
Noah stares at me incredulously. When he realizes I’m seriously asking him, he runs his hand down his face as if he’s shocked I didn’t remember that. “Yes, Esme. A middle-aged bald Hispanic guy tried to take you. I was about to intervene because you looked really uncomfortable with his arm around you, but right as I moved to take care of it, you spun out of his grip and punched him square in the nose. He ran off, and I swooped in to check on you. You mentioned he had a knife, but he’d disappeared into the crowd so we called the police and gave them everything we knew.”
I soak in every word, attempting to unravel the threads between fiction and reality as he tells me the tale of what really happened when a man tried to take me away in Bora Bora.
Our real meet-cute.
A punch of a thousand Bora Bora suns…I throw my head back and laugh in disbelief. “I can’t believe I fought him. I’m usually one to freeze in high-stress situations.”Way to go, me!I mentally pat myself on the back.
Noah arches a brow and crosses his arms. “You? Afraid? That’s not the woman I remember. You were a grumpy firecracker on that island. Mad at the world while trying to prove to it that you were fun, flirty, and free. Once I wiggled my way through your defenses, we had the time of our lives.” He winks.
That sobers me up.Not the woman he remembers.Just as I was afraid would be the case. Island Esme was, in fact, much different than the person I am.
“Noah,” I lead, nervously picking at my fingernails. I bite the inside of my cheek before meeting his eyes. He needs to hear this. Maybe it will change his mind about me, and he can stopfeeling hurt over losing me. Because I was never the woman he thought I was from the offset. “I’m not that woman. I never was. The girl you met in Bora Bora was going through a difficult time, as I imagine getting left at the altar would do to someone. I’m not fun, flirty, and free. I’m a little timid, though I’m working on being bolder. I prefer plans and schedules to spontaneity. I have anxiety and get nervous easily. And flirting, well… I have no game. Not like you do, as I’m told.”
Noah’s enigmatic expression has me on pins and needles. After seconds pass, I blurt, “Say something.”
And he laughs.Belly laughs. Teeters on the edge of falling off the bench because he’s laughing so hard. Agenuinelaugh.
“Noah Ashley Prewitt,” I scold, catching myself by surprise. Did I really just use his full name like I’m his mother? But why in the sweet stars above is this man laughing at me?
“I’m sorry, Esme. I—” He breaks into another round of laughter that lasts minutes as I stare incredulously. Finally, he gets out, “I’m sorry. I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”
My frustration diffuses. Of course he hasn’t. He’s been depressed over a woman who doesn’t truly exist.
Noah breathes deeply and smiles softly, his eyes sparking. “May I put my hands on your face so that I can make sure you hear every word of what I’m about to say?”
Confused, I nod.
He stands, straddles the bench, and sits, his knees knocking into mine. Warmth from his large hands settles on either side of my face as he stares into my soul. “Esme Lorraine Jenkins,” he breathes my name, his breath smelling like mint toothpaste. “I know just the sort of woman you are. You freaked out when I asked you to continue dating me when we returned home. You were going on about how I didn’t really know you and that I might not like you when we were off the island. I’ll tell you now what I told you back then.” He clears his throat. “You think Icouldn’t tell that you are timid and anxious and settled? You hardly made a decision that week because you went along with whatever I suggested, huffing and puffing through climbing a mountain with me and everything. I picked up on the cues that told me when you didn’t really want to do something. I identified your plastic smile and what set it apart from the genuine one. I saw your planner. I noticed the way you got nervous in large crowds and preferred quieter environments. And most importantly, you opened up to me about your past with Lane and Bryan. You told me how they said your romantic expectations were too high and that no man could ever meet them.”
My hands fly to cover my opened mouth. Noah removes one of his hands to gently move mine away from my face. He doesn’t let go of it as he continues. “And then I told you that they were emotionally unintelligent boys who didn’t know what to do with a woman like you. A brave, intelligent, beautiful, meek, and kind woman.”
Tears run down my cheeks, and Noah gently wipes one away with the pad of his thumb. I’m at a loss for words, so he fills the silence. “And also like I told you that day… I know I have so much more to learn about you, so please, take me to school, Miss Jenkins, because I want to learn. I want to do it every day by your side. I want to learn your soul.” I’m a statue as Noah gently places his hand over my heart. I should swat it away, but I can’t. I won’t. “Your heart.” He moves his hand to stroke my oily, airplane hair. “Your mind.”
I know what comes next. I wrote this scene.Real.
Noah asks permission with his eyes when they drop down to my lips and back up to me. I should say no.
When I draftedForgetting My Vacation Fling, I never imagined he was real. I wrote about instant love because I believe it exists and is beautiful, but I never imagined it was something that could happen to me because of my personality.
But it did. And as my title suggests, I forgot about it.
A little string in my soul tugs as if it’s telling me he’s the one.He’s it. He’s the one who I’ve searched for. Waited for. Longed for. My missing person. My missing memories.
I close my eyes and lean toward him involuntarily.
Does he kiss like I imagined?
His lips press featherlight to mine. A breath, and then he pulls away, a small reverent smile lifting his full cheekbones. “And eventually, one day when I finally coerce you into marrying me, every inch of your body.”
“Real,” I murmur out loud, swiping my thumb across my bottom lip where it still feels the imprint of his soft mouth against mine. I should feel off-kilter for a thousand other reasons than the one currently taking precedent.
Noah makes a humming sound. “Very real.”
At that moment, Nick calls for us, saying his moose lasagna is ready. I’m shaken out of my stupor and jolt back from Noah.
