Chapter Five
I can’t say I remember much of the movie, aside from sparkling swatches of the cosmos. Not because we got into any sort of trouble at the theater—that would have been too PDA-heavy for me—but because the weight of Noah’s hand in mine was just so…real. It was difficult to focus on anything except his fingers laced with mine, or the feel of his palm against my own. It had been forever since I’d had any sort of physical contact, however chaste, with a guy. I may have been a little bit drunk on affection.
We lingered in the theater while the credits rolled and seats emptied out around us. I glanced over and saw Noah’s face bathed in the light from the screen. Then he met my eyes. “What did you think?” he asked.
I was all set to give rave reviews to his hand-holding skills until I remembered the film we just saw. “I liked it,” I said with false confidence. “There was a lot of…space.”
Noah chuckled. The lights came up. We tossed our cups and popcorn cartons into the trash, and as we made our way out to the parking lot, he threaded his hand through mine yet again. If this was his way of conveying interest, it was working big time.
Outside the lobby, the sun was sliding down toward the horizon, leaving a spread of cotton-candy clouds in its wake. We stopped to look up, linked at the wrist. The sunset dyed Noah’s cheekbones. “Let me walk you home,” he said. His voice was low, almost gentle. A little smile flitted over his lips. “That is, assuming you walked here.”
“I did.” Our faces were inches apart. He smelled like popcorn and Irish Spring. My heart raced in my chest. Where was this going? Did he want to drop me off, or come home with me? Was I ready for that? Okay, okay. I knew my body was ready for that, but my mind had its doubts. I’ve never been a fast mover.
The walk back was slow and companionable. Noah did not make mention of the fact that we were still holding hands, so I didn’t either. I think we both felt that whatever this was between us had just entered a new phase of being, but I wasn’t prepared to try and put a label on it just yet. For now, it was enough to have it happening. The tightly wound spring that had been powering my life for the last year started to relax. “Noah,” I said.
“Hmm?” He glanced at me.
“What’s your major?”
“Oh.” He tilted his lip. “Music theory and composition.” There was a pause. “Why? Did you think it was something weird?”
I gave him a look. “No. I just realized I never asked.”
“Fair enough.” Our footsteps were the only sounds on the street now, echoing faintly against the night. The streetlamps came on above our heads. We stepped into a yellow pool of light. “I’ve still got a year left after this,” he added. Nothing else was said, but I heard the implication. If you’re going to be around.
At least, that was the implication I wanted. The logical side of me said that the things I was feeling for a guy who’d been little more than an acquaintance two weeks ago were nothing more than infatuation, a symptom of my terrible loneliness. But my heart? Hell, my heart didn’t care even a little bit. We were getting closer to the edge of something with every step.
I wondered if Noah felt it too.
My apartment seemed to sneak up on me in the dark, so much so that I almost let Noah walk me right past it. After I pointed it out, he led me up the walkway to the front door. Then he looked me in the eye and said, “I had a good time tonight, Colin.”
I let my gaze fall to our hands, still pressed together. He was very close, closer than he had been at the movies. I could see his chest rise and fall with every breath. “Me too,” I said softly. Then, “Sorry if I don’t invite you in. I can’t…yet.”
Noah grinned. I wasn’t sure if the spell broke or intensified, but in the next instant it no longer mattered. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. I caught a teasing hint of his tongue, but no more than that. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “There’ll be another time.”
My insecurity got the best of me. “You sure?” I blushed under the door light and tried to hide how damn vulnerable I felt. I’d been a fortress of solitude for long enough that the slightest human touch was apparently enough to undo me entirely.
“I promise.” He squeezed my hand and turned to go.
“Text me when you get home safe,” I said. The words sounded foreign coming out of my mouth. Had I ever said them before, to anyone? But I meant them. I wanted to know he was still around, and that this weird, wonderful night had really happened.
“Sure.”
I stood in front of the door just long enough to see him disappear down the street. Then I went inside, took my shoes off, sat on the bed, and waited for him to let me know everything was still real. Not a dream. Not a fantasy.
Real.