He nodded, his grip on my hip tightening. “It’s extremely difficult for me.”
“And it’s extremely difficult for me to trust you enough to let you do the things you’ve been doing to me.”
I saw a flicker of displeasure cross his face, and I could tell he didn’t like me saying I didn’t trust him. I remembered how he made me say I trust him while he was fucking me, how it excited him.
“Why is it so hard for you?” I asked gently.
He took a deep breath and his jaw clenched. “Everyone I’ve ever let in has left.”
The statement was so simple, so clear, that for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say back.
“Nora?” I asked finally.
He flinched at her name, and his face set again, and I was afraid his walls were going to come back up. But then he nodded. “Nora. My father. My mother. My brother.”
“Oh.” I wanted to ask him if his family was dead, like Nora, or if it was something else. But I could tell from the pain in his voice that it was extremely hard for him to talk about this, and I didn’t want to push him too hard.
“Are you close with your family, Charlotte?” he asked me.
I thought about it. “I’m close with my sister,” I said finally. “My mother and I have a complicated relationship.”
“And your father?”
“He died when I was sixteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” It was the standard response I gave whenever anyone said they were sorry about my dad. It had never made sense to me, people saying they were sorry. How could they be so sorry when they never even knew him?
“Charlotte,” Noah said, running his hand up my side. “I’m sorry about your father.”
I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I sent a silent prayer that Noah wouldn’t ask me how my father died, that I wouldn’t have to relive those horrible moments, even just in memory.
“And your mother? What does that mean, you have a complicated relationship?”
“It means that it’s complicated. I love her, but I’m not sure I like her.”
This made Noah smile. “Why don’t you like her?”
“She’s made some life choices that I don’t agree with. And she expects me to just accept her for them, and yet when I make choices she doesn’t agree with, she has no problem telling me that I’m ruining my life. Plus she remarried after my dad died, and I don’t care much for my stepfather.”
“Why? Did he hurt you?” Noah demanded.
“What? No. He’s just sort of … an asshole. I’m supposed to be going to his birthday party tomorrow night. It wasn’t a good night for anyone, but he insisted on it because it had to be on his actual birthday.” I shook my head, realizing what a baby I sounded like. “Anyway.”
I reached out and touched Noah’s chest, letting my fingers linger on his pecs, his shoulders, his abs. Now that we weren’t caught up in a frenzy of lust, I had time to feel him, really feel him, and appreciate how firm and fit his body was.
“I’d like to go with you,” Noah said, his voice serious and quiet.
My hands stopped at his biceps. “To the party?”
“Yes. If it’s all right.”
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “That would be nice.”
He nodded, like it was all settled.
I settled back into the crook of his arm, and he pulled me against him and kissed me on the forehead.
“What time is it?” I murmured.
He rolled over and looked at the clock. “It’s almost two.”
“Crap,” I said. “I have a meeting with Professor Worthington soon. About your case.” I moaned. “I’m so not in the mood for that.”
“What are you in the mood for, Charlotte?” he asked, pulling my hips into his.
I felt his erection against my leg and shook my head, pulling away from him. “You are insatiable,” I said.
“Only for you.”
“But if I’m going to get to my meeting on time, I have to shower.” I stood up, suddenly bashful about the fact that I was naked, even though obviously Noah had seen me naked and in many unmentionable positions.
I tried to keep the blanket wrapped around me, but Noah reached over and grabbed at it until it slid into a pool on the floor.
“I want to look at you,” he said. “Anytime I want.”
I felt exposed and vulnerable as I walked to the bathroom, but I loved knowing that he liked looking at my body, that he was so turned on by it that he could get hard just by being close to me.
After I showered, I dried my hair and dressed in some of the clothes I’d brought from my apartment. It felt a bit weird, wearing different clothes to see Professor Worthington than what I’d worn this morning, but my other clothes were strewn about the kitchen, wrinkled and in no condition to wear to a meeting.