My fingers move to the elastic of my pajama shorts first, then to the straps of my tank top. When I’m finished, I’m standing in my underwear before him. And still, his gaze worships me.
Transfixed, I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it on the floor. When I embrace him once more, the heat of his skin sears mine—everywhere—each point of contact electrifying.
“I love you,” Noah declares as I drag him toward the bed.
My reply comes easily. “I love you too.”
Our lips meet a thousand times, and our bodies connect in a way I didn’t even know was possible before tonight, despite all the sex we’d had in the past. The connection is desperate, bone-deep.
And when he walks away from me later that evening, I know this night will be etched on my heart forever.
8Late Bloomer
At the crack of dawn, Mom and I leave for Lizbeth while Dad stays behind to take Gideon and Everly to school. He almost breaks a rib hugging me before I clamber into the car with all of my stuff and watch him as he waves goodbye, finally succumbing to the tears he’d successfully held at bay. My throat feels like it might collapse in on itself as I fight against hot, stinging tears of my own.
Out of nowhere, Mom asks matter-of-factly, “Did you and Noah get to say goodbye the way you wanted?” A knowing smirk hints at the corner of her lips.
The heat pricking my eyes drains to my cheeks. “Um, yeah. We did.”
“Good, I’m glad.” She winks and I recoil in my seat, mortified. If I could sink into the cracked asphalt beneath the car, right now, never to resurface, I’d be only too happy. She peers at me sidelong and laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask for the details.”
I release a relieved breath, but the burn in my cheeks still rivals the surface of the sun.
“Did you guys talk about your relationship at all?” she asks.
I sigh, settling back into a comfortable position. “Yeah, a bit. We both want to stay together.”
I think back to the conversation we had last night. He’d beenadamant he didn’t want to break up, and I’ll be the first to admit, I was grateful. I didn’t want to either.
Mom refocuses her attention on the road. “That’s good then. You’re both on the same page.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m just worried it’ll be hard. It’s been so much harder than I thought it’d be with Alexis.”
“The best things in life are usually difficult,” Mom says sagely. “Think about your art. Painting isn’t always easy, is it?”
My nod morphs into a shake. “No way. It’s always difficult.”
“And yet, it brings you joy and happiness regardless, right?” Her eyebrows slide up her forehead as she makes her point.
I consider that for a moment.Does it?The act of painting is a high, for sure, but do I love painting as much as the praise I get on the back end? I’m not sure, and yet I decide to agree anyway. Regardless of how I feel about painting, I know Mom’s right. She usually is.
“Right,” I say after a moment’s hesitation.
“Noah’s a nice young man, and you’re so easy to love, honey. So I wouldn’t worry too much. I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
We drive in comfortable silence for a few minutes, listening to the rhythmic hum of the car’s engine before she speaks again.
“I’ve been thinking about something important this past week. Maeve, I think your father and I owe you an apology,” she starts, her voice breaking a bit on the last word. “We haven’t supported you and your dreams the way you deserve. We’ve been so focused on Grayson’s accomplishments and caring for the younger two that we’ve let you get lost in the shuffle.” She pauses and I’m stunned silent, my mind wiped clean of thought. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on, I promise. Just give me a chance to prove it to you, okay?”
Mom’s dark eyes swim with tears as I stare at her and struggle to restart my brain, and process her words.
“Mom,” I say, my voice quivering, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, sweetie,” she replies, grasping my hand in one of hers. “And I’m damn proud of you. You’re setting such an amazing example for your brother and sister.”
My face breaks into a watery smile, but I don’t say anything else. No words feel big enough. This is unbelievable. Just last Saturday—six fucking days ago—I was wishing for everything I have right now, in this moment.
