She frowns, puzzled, and then wrinkles her nose and shakes her head.“Yeah, ‘just don't be’ isn't gonna work, Noah.I'm so fucking embarrassed it hurts.I want to crawl into a hole and never come out.Or move to…to…to fuckingCleveland."
"Please don't do any of that," I say, grinning."I like you very much not in a hole and very muchnotin Cleveland."I hesitate."You fell asleep, Morgan.It happens."
She pulls away, paces to the sliding glass door."Not just that."She touches a smudge on the glass—a mark left by her bare skin."I thought I could…"
I stay where I am, even though all I want is to take her in my arms and hold her.Kiss her.Reassure her that my desire is undimmed."Morgan, about last night.I…I'm so fucking sorry.I feel awful."
She pivots, looking utterly baffled."What the hell areyousorry for?Youdidn't totally fall apart like a wet napkin, Noah.I wanted…Iwant—but I couldn't—and I—" she lets out a high-pitched, frustrated growl."See?I can't even make sense!”
"I shouldn't have rushed it.I should have seen that you were scared.I should've…" I look away, then turn away, shaking my head."I'm sorry, Morgan.If I'd been thinking more about you and less about myself, I'd have realized you weren't ready and you wouldn't have had a panic attack, and…"
I hear her sigh softly, feel her draw up close against my right side, one hand flat on my chest."You didn't rush anything, Noah.You didn’t pressure me.You didn't push me.You did everything you could to make sure I was on board every step of the way.I never, ever felt anything less than comfortable with you.What happened wasnotyour fault."
"Then it's not yours either."
This gets her attention."But…"
"Morgan,you had a panic attack.That's not something you can just decide not to…do," I finish lamely.I hold up my hands to forestall her response."This is a lot of serious conversation for two extremely uncaffeinated people.Let's have coffee before we go there, yeah?"
Morgan sighs in relief as I head into the kitchen."I would do unholy things for a cup of coffee right now."
I get the coffeemaker chugging away."What kind of unholy things?"I ask.
She joins me in the kitchen, gnawing on her lower lip, leaning back against the island while I lean back against the sink, opposite her."Noah, after the way I was last night, I can understand if you're not…"
"Morgan," I interrupt.“Don't be ridiculous."
"But I—"
I hold out my hand; she hesitates, swallows hard, stares at it, and then places her hand in mine.I yank her off-balance, so she stumbles forward and lands sprawling against me.Her pale green eyes are wide and full of roiling emotion—a coruscating frenzy of worry, desire, fear, nerves, delight, arousal…all at once, warring, tangled, intermixed.
"Noah," she breathes."You…you still…want me?"
I hold her wrists in my hands, pinned against my chest.Gaze down at her."Fuck yes, I do."
"Icrumbled, Noah."
"And I hate that you felt that way—so scared, so…I don't know.I hate that things were said to you and done to you to make you feel that way.I can't stand the idea of triggering those feelings in you.Making you feel scared or…or pressured.Or judged."
"You didn't!"She finds her footing and steadies herself without putting any distance between us—if anything, she gives me more of her weight."You made me feel…beautiful…for the first time in a long, long time, Noah.You were a gentleman.Nothing about last night—absolutelynothing—was triggered byanythingyou did.I promise."
Chug-chug, hiss, splutter.I need a new coffeemaker as I'm fairly certain I’ve had that one since the first Obama administration, and it’s slow, messy, and the hot plate turns off after an hour, whether by design or an electrical fault.
Her eyes slide over my jaw, fix upon my lips."Coffee is done," she murmurs.
"So it is," I agree.
I tilt one of her hands toward my lips, kiss the center of her palm.Place it against my cheek.
Her eyes widen and shimmer, search me."Noah?"
"Yeah, honey?"
"I'm afraid that if you really want to keep hanging out with me, you're gonna be in for a bit of a ride.Because I can't guarantee I won't freak out again.It's not that I don't want you or don't trust you, I'm just…I'm a mess, I guess."
"And I'm not?"
She licks her lips, and my eyes follow the movement."I don't know."
