“I’m sorry that happened,” I say, but she shrugs it off.
“He’s the one who can’t seem to get over it,” she says. “And honestly, I barely had time to think about it. Because right after, Ellis left. The Shack started going under.” She groans, leaning her head back on the couch to stare at the ceiling. “The last two years have just been a perfect storm of shit,” she says. “It’s like everything fell apart after you.”
To this, I can relate. I look again at the picture of us on the dock.
“I haven’t been happy since that last night I was with you,” I admit, studying our photo. “That was the last time I felt like anything mattered. Including myself.”
Noa sighs, and then she shifts to lean her head on my shoulder. I rest my cheek on the top of her head.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”
“I know you are, Jamie,” she replies.
We stay like this for a while, just the two of us. No television, no music. Just the comfort of being next to each other.
When her fingers slowly start to trace over my hand, the small cuts on my knuckles from the fight, I close my eyes. Her touch is tender, loving.
“I’m still not over you,” she whispers quietly, and I feel myself smile.
“Good,” I say. She laughs softly, and then buries her face in my neck, embarrassed.
When I look down at her, she gazes up at me with those gorgeous eyes. Her cheeks flushed. I lick my lips, and she smiles slowly. And when she kisses me, my entire body reacts and I gather her up.
And it’s not slow or tentative. It’s our lips and our tongues; it’s years of silence and regret and missing each other so bad that it hurts. Her fingers knot in the front my shirt, pulling me closer still, as my hand slides up her thigh.
“Noa,” I murmur against her mouth like I’m going to lose myself.
Then she’s kissing me again, breathing in small gasps as our bodies tangle together like we can’t get enough. She is perfection. She is desire. She is summer.
And then, our kisses become deeper. More certain. Like we’ve finally both accepted thatthisis it. This is how it’s supposed to be, no matter how much I’ve fucked it up in the past. We were always going to end up here, together.
In this moment, I am hers. I always have been.
And just as I lay her back on the sofa, there is a sharp knock at the kitchen door.
Startled, we quickly pull apart, the spell broken. Noa slips out from underneath me, getting to her feet as she adjusts her clothes. She touches her lips, as if she can still feel me. Then, as if just remembering I’m still here, she looks over, wide-eyed.
I’m a bit out of breath, my heart still pounding wildly as I watch her. I try to think of something funny to say… but instead, I just smile. She matches it, even if she looks slightly embarrassed.
“That was dangerous,” she says, pointing at me, and then starts for the door.
We’re past dangerous. I don’t think either of us can go back to pretending now.
I rest into the couch, smiling and waiting for my blood pressure to come down.
There’s another sharp knock followed by the sound of Tech’s voice. I laugh, a bit annoyed that he’s the reason for the interruption.
As Noa dashes through the kitchen to answer the door, I press the ice to my eye, wincing again.
There is the sound of a lock turning and then Noa says, “What the hell?”
“Why is the door locked?” I hear Tech say. “You never…” But ashe enters the living room and sees me on the couch, he pauses. “Never mind,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” He spins back to Noa. “We have to go,” he says.
“Go where?” she asks, putting her hand on her hip. “We’re supposed to be lying low.”
“We need to go to Naples.”
Noa’s lips downturn. “Tonight? Why would we go to Naples?”
