I grin widely at him before kissing the top of his head, and he hums happily. “You’re my best friend, too.”
“You know,” he begins, looking up at me with that boyish twinkle in his eyes, “I only started reading so I could have a reason to talk to you.”
My face is getting red again. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did! I would have done anything for your attention to be on me.” He nestles his nose against my neck. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”
I bite back the giddy squeal I want to let out. I’m almost thirty, I can’t go around squealing. But the happiness has to go somewhere, so I squeeze him tight and bask in the feeling of being loved by Noah Richards.
We need to move and clean up, but not yet; everything feels so right lying here with him in my arms. I look out the window, Autumn darkness creeping in, but it’s still early evening.
“Want to do something tonight?” I ask him, eyes still on the sky.
“Sure, movie?”
I smile to myself. A movie sounds perfect. “Yeah, let’s go to the movies. We’re due for another date.”
It’s Tuesday evening, so it won’t be too busy.
Noah props himself up on an elbow, blue eyes searching mine. “Wanna invite the others?”
I take a moment to think about it, I’m always more comfortable with the people closest to me around, it’s made it easier to get back out and do things knowing they’re close. It’s sweet of him to offer to invite them, but… no, I don’t want them there. I want to go on a date with Noah, just the two of us like normal couples do.
I shake my head, a simple, “No,” falling from my lips.
He smiles softly. “Date night sounds perfect.”
Firefly Reelhouse smells like popcorn and too-sweet soda syrup, and normally that alone would make my shoulders creep up toward my ears. Tonight… not so much. The nerves are still there, just quieter, easier to work through. Therapy has been helping. Noah has been helping even more.
He squeezes my hand as we walk in. “You doing okay?” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I tell him honestly. “Just… finding my footing.”
The line for tickets is short, but the people feel too close, and instinctively, I angle toward the side, giving myself space. Noah leans in and puts an arm around my waist. When we reach the counter, he starts to pull out his wallet. I beat him to it, sliding my card across before he even gets the chance.
“Baby—” he starts.
“No.” I try to say firmly, but it comes out more earnest. “I want to. I want to take you on a date.”
His eyes warm so much I feel my cheeks do the same. Will I ever not blush over this man? Honestly, I hope that never changes. I love feeling so warm under his gaze.
“Okay,” he says with a nod, a pleased glint in his eyes.
Tickets secured, he tugs me toward the theater. Inside, the darkness makes me wobble for a minute, my heart rate picking up with not being fully aware of my surroundings or seeing if anyone is too close, then my eyes adjust, and I see it’s not too busy. I exhale in relief. The aisle seats are empty, and I guide us there. Noah says nothing about it, just settles in beside me as though sitting on the aisle has always been the plan.
He flips the armrest up between us and when I lean into him, he throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer.
“I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs, lips brushing my temple.
My throat tightens. Something gentle blooms behind my ribs. “I… I’m proud of myself, too.”
Saying the words out loud makes me realize how true they are. I’ve come so far; I don’t think my trauma and fears will ever completely leave me, but I’m able to be happy now. Still not every day, but most days, and that’s worth being proud of.
The movie starts, but I don’t really pay attention, my mind in a happy daze just being here. Throughout it, Noah’s fingers trace lazy shapes on my arm, and I feel myself unwind against him, piece by piece. The theatre is half-full, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t check over my shoulder. I don’t shrink into my seat. I don’t watch exits.
I just… exist. With him.
Halfway through, he tilts his head, whispering, “You’re doing amazing.”
