When we all start yawning, one setting off the next like dominoes, we take the hint and gather ourselves. Abbie pulls on her coat and hugs me. “You look lighter,” she says into my shoulder. “It suits you.”
Ciarán kisses both my cheeks, then smirks. “Make sure to tell Aiden I miss him.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I will not.”
“No fun,” he says smoothly, walking us to the door.
Abbie steps into the garden, and I turn back to Ciarán. “I’m sorry.”
He tilts his head. “For what?”
“Not telling you.” I clear my throat. “About Noah.”
“Ah.” A sad expression crosses his face. “I understand. I just… you know you can tell me anything, right?”
There’s a heavy, sinking sensation in my stomach when I think of everything I keep from him. I give him a tight smile, wishing I could give him more. Wishing I could tell him everything. “I know. It was just so new.”
He sags a bit, and the smile I get in return looks tired. “I get it.” He holds his head a little higher. “Text me later, okay?”
“I will.”
I step into the cool night. The garden smells green and damp, and a scatter of stars hangs over the roof. I walk Abbie to her car as she digs in her bag for her keys with the same little huff as always, the one that says she will never develop a system and she’s fine with that.
“Ride?” she asks, glancing up. “I can take you up to Main.”
“I’m okay,” I say. “I want to walk. It’s been a while since I just… walked alone. I think it’s good for me.”
She studies my face, then nods. “Text when you get home.”
“Will do.”
The night folds around me when her taillights turn the corner. I feel calm walking home. They always pull me out of my own self-designed cage and remind me I’m not just the worst thoughts in my head.
As I walk, I think of Noah. The last few nights. The way he kisses me. His mouth moving with quiet intent, lips dragging just enough to make my pulse spike. It’s all-consuming, the kind of kisses that leave everything else fading out around the edges. The way he looks at my mouth like he’s memorizing it. The wayhe breathes my name against my lips when he’s turned on, like it tastes good.
My cheeks heat in the cold air. I let myself picture his palm at my hipbone. The slide of his fingers under the hem of my shirt to the warm skin of my lower back. His mouth at my throat. The pressure of him pressing against me. He wouldn’t be rough, just present, letting me feel the weight and heat of him, and knowing I can tell him when. The thought sends a line of heat low in my belly.
The bookstore comes into view. I unlatch the door and step inside. Warmth envelops around me as I head upstairs, already rehearsing the words I’ll say if my mouth doesn’t fail me.
I want more.
I want this.
I wantyou.
The apartment is silent when I reach it. He's not here. No hoodie on the chair. No crooked smile in the kitchen. I brush my teeth, change, and crawl into bed. A flicker of disappointment crosses me. As much as I want more, it would have been enough just to say goodnight and receive one of those tender presses of his lips to my cheek. Whenever he kisses my scar like that, it makes me feel beautiful. Like he’s taking a part of me that was made from something dark and turning it light.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand as my eyes start to close.
Noah:Still hanging at Aiden’s. If I don’t make it home before you go to bed, then goodnight x
Home. He called it home.
I fall asleep smiling.
23
NOAH
