Noah flips a pancake onto a plate before replying. “One of those things I haven’t gotten to yet.”
“Hmm.” I steal a frozen berry and pop it into my mouth. “How convenient.”
He spares me a glance before shaking his head. “Go sit down and I’ll bring you a plate.”
“Such a gentleman,” I mutter, stepping away. “Juice? Where are the glasses?”
Noah points to the overhead cabinet next to thefridge and I grab two glasses, as well as juice from the fridge. I guess the perks of losing power during a snowstorm is knowing the fridge will stay cold.
We eat between discussing his plans for the kitchen. We have maybe two more days before the snow thins out and we can brave the mountain roads into town, but I’m not ready to leave.
I’m not ready to give up this perfect little bubble just yet.
I don’t understandhow being with Noah can be so easy when everything else in my life had to be a struggle, but he doesn’t make me feel like any part of our time is hard.
“How does that feel?” he asks, holding my sprained wrist in front of me.
We’re curled up on the pull out, him behind me and me between his legs. His hardened dick presses against my lower back, and I can’t help but wonder what it might be like to turn around, push him onto his back, and reciprocate this morning’s fun.
However, Noah pinches my side when I don’t respond, making me yelp. “Hey!”
The giant man behind me chuckles, the soundgoing right through me. “I asked you a question, Angel. How does your wrist feel?”
I grunt but flex my fingers and give them a wiggle as he runs his finger over my palm. Just that touch alone makes me shiver. “Well, I feel…everything,” I start, turning my hand over and curling my fingers into a fist. “I don’t feel weak—well, any weaker than it should be, since we’ve had it bandaged. And the swelling has gone down well enough that I can tell it isn’t broken.”
Noah gently runs his thumb over my racing pulse, outlining the still bruised skin. “You sure?”
I nod once, leaning into his chest. “Absolutely. I’ll just ice it from here on out. It’s fine—I’m fine.”
Noah releases a noticeably relieved breath and winds both arms around my middle, holding me closer. “Good. That’s good.”
Warmth flares in my chest. “I am incredibly lucky.”
“Just because you can move your hand doesn’t mean there aren’t any underlying injuries,” he says darkly, voice stiff. “I really should have taken you to the hospital.”
My stomach tightens with the sudden seriousness of the moment and the lightness that is quickly washed away.
I manage to turn in his embrace so I’m kneeling infront of him. I rest my hands on his chest, which is hot from our shared warmth, but beneath my fingers I feel the harsh pounding of his chest.
There’s something dark in his eyes that I can’t read.
“Hey,” I murmur, moving to cup his jaw. “Look at me.”
Noah’s jaw ticks as he clenches it, but he does eventually meet my eye.
“I’m okay. You literally saved my life. There was no way to get to the hospital or call for help,” I tell him, voice low—gentle. “I’m okay because ofyou.”
His throat bobs as he swallows, but he doesn’t immediately respond. The darkness in his eyes doesn’t leave immediately, but I don’t push it. I’ve learned not to.
I don’t want to push him, but I do want him to trust me.
It’ll take time, but I know there’s a chance. The hopeful flame in my chest hasn’t gone out yet.
And I’ll fight for him for as long as he’ll allow me to.
NINE
NOAH
