There was a single, weightless moment where my stomach fluttered and I felt myself fall backward, utterly off balance.
I’d never quite trusted Leo to do this.
He would’ve dropped me or made a joke if I hesitated.
Maybe, later, I’d have to consider why this was so different. Because, with Noah, I didn’t even hesitate.
I just let go.
And any thoughts of Leo evaporated.
Because Noah was staring down at me like I was something greater than myself, something wonderful and inspiring. Like there was nothing else to look at. Nothing else he wanted to look at.
The smile tugging at his mouth made me want to pull him down and kiss him until we missed the next five stops on the itinerary.
Later, I wouldn’t remember the photo being taken.
I would just remember him.
And for the remainder of the stop, we were careful, but not…too careful.
A brush of hands when passing my water bottle. His fingers grazing the small of my back as we wandered through the vendor stalls.
That look he gave me when I asked a Navajo artisan if I could try on one of the handmade necklaces—and then, quiet, under his breath: “Looks good on you.”
By the time we were piling back on the bus, a few people in our group might have been watching me curiously. And then Tay shot me a questioning look in the rearview mirror. I answered with a shake of my head. She responded with a wink.
But Noah just stretched out in his seat beside me, one leg pressed lightly against mine, the other in the aisle, and said nothing.
Which somehow made me want to kiss him again even more.
FLOATING ALONG
Fumbling with the life jacket I’d just been handed, I glanced up to find Noah watching me. Not in a smug way or even amused, really.
Just…watching. As though he remembered the way I’d insisted on doing everything myself on the plane and then back in Moab—and now he was waiting to see if today would be the same.
Because I’d come on this trip by myself, and even though I hadn’t realized it at the time, once I’d set foot on that plane, I’d been determined to reclaim my independence.
For a second, I thought about being stubborn, just figuring out this web of straps by myself.
But instead, I gave him a small nod.
He stepped forward, fingers brushing mine as he took the straps from me.
“You don’t mind?”
I shook my head, and he didn’t say anything else. He just adjusted the fit, tightening here, loosening there, cinching the sides until everything was snug.
He was standing so close, his full focus locked on what he was doing, brows slightly drawn as he concentrated.
And I couldn’t stop watching him.
The way his lip caught briefly between his teeth.
The way his fingers moved—steady, sure, careful.
This close, I could almost count the whiskers along his jaw, every dark, perfect edge of scruff that made me want to run my fingers along it.
