Undeclared(52)

“Cab service is shit out here, and I don’t want you to leave,” Noah replied firmly.

I went to the bathroom and put on the borrowed shirt. Noah had also lent me a pair of cotton boxers that were too large in the waist. I rolled the waistband down twice so it settled on my hips, the extra fabric from the turns ensuring the boxers wouldn’t fall off. Noah definitely passed the“ not fitting into my jeans” rule.

He stood next to the bed holding the covers up for me. I exited the bathroom and slipped under them. If I were braver, with more experience, I’d have reached for him. He’d press his body into mine, and I’d run my hands over his broad back. I’d map the dips and peaks of his ridged chest, the one I’d stared at all day in the pool.

I was restless and unsatisfied, wanting something I knew only Noah could give me. My open expression was easy for him to read. Noah sank down on the edge of the bed and put one arm across my body. His head dipped low, and I saw his eyes darken. His descent was slow and measured, telegraphing that I could stop him at any time.

I must’ve known the day would lead to this, even if I hadn’t acknowledged it consciously. I placed a tentative hand on both of his forearms, braced at my sides. I felt him shudder and for a moment, I was filled with a strange sense of power. I could make him shudder for me.

I slid my hands up his arms and around his shoulders, enjoying the feel of hot flesh over hard muscle. My fingers laced around his neck. The first touch of his lips against mine was soft, almost like whispers of a kiss. His touch wasn’t tentative so much as patient. If we went any further, he was saying, it would be at my urging.

So I lifted up and pressed into him, using his body as leverage for mine. And that was enough. His arms swept around my body, lifting me flush against him. His hand came up into my hair and cradled my head against the now hard onslaught of his lips and then his tongue. I felt like he was a marauder, invading my mouth and my senses.

His other hand was braced around my ribs just under my breast. I felt my nipples tighten in anticipation of his touch. But when I thought he would move his hand, perhaps caress my breast, he stopped. He pulled his mouth away and rested his forehead against mine. We were both out of breath, but Noah was panting like he had run ten miles with his heavy rucksack.

His hand tightened in my hair and then let go. He ran his fingers over the strands, smoothing them down. I stared at him, trying to read his intentions, his thoughts, to divine the meaning of it all.

“I didn’t bring you here today for this,” he said finally. His thumbs were tracing patterns on my face, and it was hard to think or form coherent responses. I just wanted to lie down and draw him next to me. Do my own exploration.

But the separation of his lips from mine brought me a moment of clarity. Taking this path with Noah would make me far more vulnerable than I’d ever been. And suddenly the memory of the ache I had felt upon his rejection was piercing. The warm glow that had been fostered through out the day and the tender night was snuffed out by the chill of that memory.

“Don’t close up on me now, Grace,” Noah said. He held my face and leaned down to kiss me again, but I drew back.

“Maybe this is a mistake.”

“No, it’s not.” He sounded firm and convinced.

I took a deep breath. I was going to roll over and show my soft underbelly, but it shouldn’t be any surprise to him. He had to know he could hurt me. I hadn’t ever had a real relationship before, and I didn’t know all the rules and moves to make. I’d never been good at games, and I hated uncertainty even more.

“I thought I did know you, Noah, but I don’t. You show up here at Central without a word. You ignore me for two years and then you’re everywhere.” I waved a hand between us. “You even decide when we start kissing and when we stop.”

He began to open his mouth, but I interrupted, “If you really want something to work out between us, I’m going to need the whole story.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I think I was less nervous the first time I was deployed.” He waited for me to smile at this confession, but it was too serious to me for jokes. “There are thousands of colleges I could’ve gone to, Grace, but I came here because it had you.”

“What about two years ago?” I asked, my voice breaking slightly, and I turned away as I could feel my throat close up and the tears begin to form behind my eyes.

Noah sat up and leaned his forearms again his knees. His body was angled away from me, and I couldn’t see his face, only his profile. The skin seemed drawn tighter than usual against his jaw. “I went into the Marines when I was seventeen. I hadn’t ever lived a normal civilian life on my own. When I got out, I found out I had to apply for school, find an apartment, get a job. All the skills I had been taught as a Marine didn’t help in the civilian world.” He took a deep breath, and I wanted to hug him then and tell him he didn’t need to say another word. But he looked so tense I was afraid one touch would shatter him. I remained quiet and motionless, and he continued.