"There's nothing to really talk about, Share. I have no idea what's going on, so nothing I say will make any sense to you. Unless you've suddenly become Nolan's confidante, I doubt you'll have any insight for me. And I haven't been on my phone."
"You've checked the screen like every ten minutes. You're either waiting for someone to call, text, or email you … or you're looking at the time."
I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and turned to face her. "Nolan has been texting me, but I can't seem to figure any of it out. For two days now, I've been receiving these random messages from him. Today has been the first time he's actually responded to anything I've said to him."
"He hasn't called you?"
I shook my head. "After dinner on Sunday, I told him how he should start helping himself, and how I can't be his reason for survival anymore. I think he took it as me leaving him."
"But you said he's been sending you messages." Her voice lifted at the end, as if seeking confirmation on her statement.
I nodded, not sure how to respond. Instead of trying to explain, I handed her the phone and let her read them for herself.
Her chin jutted out while she read, and then her lips pursed. Finally, a smirk appeared before she handed me back the phone.
"Sounds like he's doing better. I know you didn't ask for my opinion, but you also know me better than that. I think he's figuring things out on his own-like you've asked him to do-and when he's ready, he'll share it with you. He just needs time."
I signed and leaned farther into the couch cushion. "I know. I just hate it because I feel so helpless. I didn't mean he couldn't share things with me. He put all this pressure on me … like he couldn't save himself. And I didn't like it. But not once did I ever want him to think he had to be completely alone. I only wanted him to learn he's capable of relying on himself."
"I think he knows that. And I think it's exactly what he's doing. He hasn't cut off ties with you, Novah. He's been texting you with things that make him happy. It's what you both wanted, right? I mean … he came to you because he's tired of seeing the ugliness in life. And you want him to discover this on his own. I honestly don't think you have anything to worry about."
Just then, both her phone and mine chirped at the same time.
Beautiful Boy: Bare feet in a puddle of water.
"Mike is on his way home. I can tell him I'll see him later if you want me to stay … " Shari watched me with soft eyes, letting me know how much she cares for me.
"No. I'll be fine. Go see your man and do things that will make Christian Grey look like a pansy." We both laughed, but by the flush in her cheeks, I knew my statement wasn't far off.
"You know I love you. I'm here for you anytime." She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a tight hug.
As soon as the front door closed, my phone chirped again from the couch.
Beautiful Boy: An elderly couple holding hands on the sidewalk.
Me: Are these things you've seen, or just thoughts that come to you?
Once again, he proved this was his game and not mine. He didn't respond. Instead of staring at my phone until his messages were blurred, I decided to clean up the living room.
After everything had been put away, I move on to my bedroom to keep me from obsessing. Although I was left to laugh at myself for how quickly I dove onto my bed once the text alert came through.
Beautiful Boy: I tell you things as I see them.
I wanted to know the places he'd gone in order to see these things, but I refused to ask. All I needed to understand was he'd gone out of his house. Even if he did nothing other than stand at the end of the boat slips behind his condo, at least he hadn't cooped himself up in his place. I had to be thankful for that.
Beautiful Boy: A silhouette in a window.
As I typed out my snarky remark about him turning into a peeping Tom, another text came in, forcing me to stop writing and read.
Beautiful Boy: Your front door.
My heart stopped. Time stopped. Everything stood completely still as I read and reread his text. My front door? Did he mean … ?
And then my doorbell rang.
I jumped off my bed faster than I'd thrown myself onto it and ran for the door. I flung it open without once checking to see who stood outside. But I didn't need to, because I knew exactly who it was. My quickened pulse could've only been caused by one person … and he now stood in front of me for the first time in five torturously long days.
Twenty-Three
My arms went around his neck on instinct. The moment he pulled me against him by my waist, I climbed his body like a monkey in a tree, locking my ankles behind his back. Not once did I think about the reasons for his absence or why I hadn't seen him in days, because all I could concentrate on was the fact he now stood in front of me.
Nolan stepped inside and kicked the door closed behind him. Then he pivoted in a semi-circle until he had my back pressed against the wall. I buried my face in his neck while his lips feathered kisses along the side of my head, instantly easing the ache in my chest.
It wasn't until he whispered in my ear and told me to calm down before I realized I'd been crying. I hadn't noticed the sobs racking my body or the tears wetting my face. The hiccups jolting my shoulders never once registered to me while I remained tightly in his comforting embrace.
When I finally managed to pull myself together enough, I lifted my head to see his eyes. The last time I'd looked into them, they were stormy, so full of turmoil I couldn't see their true color. But now … now they shined with the emotions I'd longed to witness for days.
So green.
So bright.
So full of love.
"What are you doing here?" My question was soundless, nothing but air squeaking past the knot in my throat. The sound only proved the desperation I harbored inside.
"I have so much to tell you. But let me start by saying I'm in love with you. I'm so fucking in love with you, and I believe I always have been. From the very first time I ever laid eyes on you, you've owned my heart and soul. You saved me when I couldn't save myself. You saw me when I thought of myself as invisible. You found value in me when I felt worthless. When I didn't have the strength to believe in myself, you did, and you saw the promise in me when I couldn't. Anytime I've ever needed you, you were always there."
I unhooked my legs from around his waist and slid down his body. Mayhem began to take hold of my mind, but instead of succumbing to it, I held his face in my hands and stared deeply into his eyes. The softness of them calmed the storm and eased the pressure in my chest caused by his words.
"Nolan … Please, stop giving me all this credit."
"That's never going to happen. This past week has opened my eyes to many things … but none of it would've ever happened without you. If you had never gotten me to where I was, or took off my training wheels, I more than likely never would've seen any of it. So I give credit where it's due; however, I have been able to admit that I, too, am responsible for standing on my own two feet. But it doesn't change the fact I never would've been able to do this without you. You've opened my eyes, whether you want to admit it or not."
I wanted to know everything, yet I had no idea where to begin the inquisition. I hadn't spoken to him much this week, and anytime I had heard from him, it hadn't involved any of this.
"It's been five days, Nolan. I don't mean to sound pessimistic, but I saw you on Sunday. I heard the things you said. How exactly do you expect me to believe you've overcome such deeply rooted issues in five days?"
"When it comes to hurdles, sometimes it's not about how fast you run, but about how high you jump. You offered me a decent head start, gave me the push I needed. All I had to do was plant my feet on the ground and rise above it."
My gaze traveled to his lips. The way they remained steadily parted told me how serious he was. He truly believed what he said, and not even the smallest part of me could find doubt in it.
Kiss me.
He must've read my mind, or my desires became evident in my expression, because he leaned forward and took my lips with his in the most passionate kiss I'd ever experienced.
It wasn't harsh or punishing, but light and soft, almost hesitant to begin with. Like a first kiss. The way his mouth slowly formed over mine-so carefully as if he worried I'd break-left my head reeling. I let him set the pace while I followed his lead. But truth be told, I wouldn't have been able to assert myself even if I wanted to. I'd grown too lost in his presence, in his touch, in the way his heat enveloped me like a fire on a cool night.
"I want you," I whispered once our lips separated.
The airiness of my voice proved how winded he made me. And the scratchiness solidified the lust weaving through my system like a vine, choking the life out of any rational thought.