Emma woke up the next morning feeling warm, rested, kind of fluttery.

She realized why even before she opened her eyes because she could feel Noah’s presence beside her in the bed. She could hear him breathing.

He was still asleep, his eyes closed, his face relaxed, one arm slung out to the side.

Her heart exploded with feeling.

There was no sense in denying it. There was no sense in trying to be smart.

She was all in with Noah.

It felt like every breath she took, every beat of her heart, was pulling her closer to him.

She thought he must have slept all night because she hadn’t been aware of his moving or getting up. She hoped he had. He’d needed it desperately.

He’d been so real last night, so needy. She’d never really believed she could offer Noah anything important, but he’d needed her.

That knowledge felt like it changed everything.

When her emotions started to whirl out of control, she slipped out of the bed and went to the bathroom. After she’d gone, she washed her face and put some toothpaste on her finger to rub over her teeth before she rinsed out her mouth.

She cringed at her reflection in the mirror. Her face had a few blotches of red on it from how she’d slept, and her hair was a tangled mess.

With a little shrug, she left the bathroom and went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee with Ginny’s one-cup brewer.

Her heart was still fluttering wildly as she took her first sip.

“Emma.”

She jerked slightly as she turned around to see Noah standing in the entrance to the kitchen. He still wore the pajama pants and old T-shirt, and his brown hair was sticking out straight in all directions. He desperately needed to shave, and his eyelids were heavy.

He was big and adorable and sexy and real and still tired.

He was so utterly human, standing in front of her like that, and her heart lodged hard in her throat in response to the flood of feeling.

“I thought you might have left,” he said, rubbing his face in what looked like an effort to wake up.

“Of course I didn’t leave.” She took a step forward, unable to stop herself from touching his arm. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Good. Better this morning.” He stood in place, an expression of something close to uncertainty flickering across her face. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“You didn’t have to stay.”

She dropped her eyes. “I wanted to.”

He reached out to cup her cheek. “I’m glad you did.”

She smiled at him, a little trembly, and his smile in return was so sweet, so earnest, that her eyes blurred with a sheen of tears.

He moved his hand to his own face and rubbed it vigorously. “I guess I should take a shower.”

He didn’t look like he wanted to. He looked like he wanted to fall back into bed.

Glancing at the clock, she replied, “It’s still early. We can lie in bed for a little while longer.”

He hesitated just briefly before he went to get his own cup of coffee. “Sounds good to me.”

They took their coffee back to the bedroom and climbed into bed. Emma wasn’t sure what to do until Noah pulled her over against him, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“You feel better?” she asked, adjusting so she could study his face.

“I do. A lot better. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking you had to suffer to make up for things.” She said the words automatically, not even thinking through whether they were smart or careful.

Noah didn’t seem to mind. His face was so strangely open, vulnerable this morning. “Yeah.”

“Nan doesn’t resent you for staying away so long, you know. She’s not holding any sort of grudge.”

“I know she’s not.”

“She doesn’t want you to suffer.”

“I know.”

She stroked his chest gently. “So maybe just accept that you made a mistake but are ready to spend more time with her now. Maybe just accept that she loves you anyway.”

“That easy, huh?” His tone was slightly dry, but it wasn’t sharp at all. It was… fond.

She gave him a little smile. “Yes. That easy.”

“It never seems that easy for me,” he said with a sigh. His arm was still around her, although he reached with his other hand for his coffee. “It’s still so hard to believe that people really love me, that people won’t… won’t leave.”

Like his father had.

Noah hadn’t said the words, but she knew he meant them.

Some wounds went so deep you spent a lifetime trying to recover from them.

“Nan’s never going to give up on you,” she said softly, emotion evident in her voice. “Neither is Ginny.”

He met her eyes quietly.

And Emma couldn’t help but add, “And neither will I.”

He sucked in a breath. “Do you mean that?”

“I do. You know I do. No matter how many times I try to talk myself out of it, I don’t think there’s ever been anyone else for me but you.”

She shouldn’t have said so much. It wasn’t what women were supposed to do, not in as tentative a relationship as she had with Noah.

She didn’t regret it, though. The words meant something to Noah. His expression cracked for just a moment, and then he put his coffee down so he could pull her closer to him.

He nuzzled her face, her hair. “Baby,” he murmured thickly. “I don’t know why or how it happened, but it feels like there was a missing piece—a… a vacancy—in my heart, in my soul. All my life it’s been there, waiting only for you.”

She practically melted at the earnest words, spoken with such naked sincerity. She whimpered slightly and pulled his face up so she could kiss him.

He sank into the kiss immediately, sliding his hands down to her ribs so he could adjust her body, get her even closer to him.

They kissed for a long time, their lips and tongues playing together, until Emma’s body started to react to his touch, to the deep feeling that had overwhelmed her.

Noah’s body was responding too. His muscles had tightened. His skin had heated up. When she slid a hand down, she could feel that he had hardened almost completely.

She stroked him through the fabric of his pajama pants, and he groaned into her mouth.

It was an utterly helpless sound. No control. No inhibitions. No defenses.

He’d given himself to her completely—she knew it for sure as she heard his moan, as she felt his body against hers—and she wasn’t going to let him go.

***

Noah had never been so out of control in his life.

Even when he and Emma had had sex before, it had been wild and passionate and urgent, but it had still felt like he had held on to the basic limits of his restraint, of his self-imposed character.

Nothing was holding him back now. He was giving everything to Emma.

And she was giving everything to him.

He wanted it. All of it.

He wanted all of her.

Unable to stay still under the pressure of her little hand, he rolled them both over and buried his face in her neck, in her hair, rocking his arousal against her.

She was panting, whimpering slightly. Her fingernails were now digging into his back.

His erection had become a throbbing compulsion, urging him to rock, to thrust, to move. She was moving with him, one of her legs wrapping around his thighs in that shameless way she had, making it clear that she was just as urgent as he was.

He found her lips again, and they kissed deeply as they moved together. Before he knew what was happening, they were fumbling with each other’s clothes. He managed to get off her shirt and sweat pants, and she’d pulled his erection out of his pants.

He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her, even as he pulled her legs apart, nudged at her warm, wet entrance, and finally sank inside her completely.

She was hot and tight and perfect, and he released another helpless groan as she wrapped both of her legs around him. She was already arching, grinding against him, trying to get him to move.

He gasped against her mouth, his vision nearly whiting out with pleasure, with bone-deep need.

It felt like home—sweet, perfect home—buried in her body this way.

“Noah, please,” she begged hoarsely, clawing at the bare skin of his back under the shirt he still wore.

She was naked beneath him, soft and eager and responsive. She was Emma.

His Emma.

He never wanted this to end.

“Noah!” she panted again. “I need… I need…” She bucked her hips up against his and tightened her legs around him.

He couldn’t hold back an unrestrained exclamation at the ache of pleasure as she clamped down around him. There was no holding him back after that. He started to move, to thrust, to take her the way he wanted, the way she obviously wanted too.

She urged him on with a matching motion, making little sobbing sounds every time he pushed into her.

He was so out of control that he was afraid he might hurt her. He took her fast, hard, almost rough. But she wanted it. She kept begging for more. And the knowledge that she wanted—needed—this as much as he did was nearly as intoxicating as the physical pleasure.

She was his. And she wanted him to make her his.

He wanted to be completely hers too.

He felt her body starting to tense up, and the sounds she was making got louder, like she couldn’t hold them back.

“I love you, baby,” he heard himself rasping. He had no idea how he was saying those words, but they had to come out. They had to. “I love you, baby. Come for me.”

Her whole body shook as the orgasm finally broke. Her arms, her legs, her inner muscles all clamped down around him.

He shouted out in response to the pressure, and his own climax ripped through him with almost frightening power.

He could barely take a full breath as the pleasure washed over him and his body finally started to relax. He’d come really hard, letting go of everything. It was wet between them now, and he had to fight back an instinctive rise of pride that he’d come inside her body, as if that claimed her as his completely.

She was panting just as desperately as he was, but her clawing on his back had turned to gentle caresses.

He found her mouth clumsily, and they kissed for another minute until both of them were completely relaxed, still tangled up together.

When reality finally caught up to him, he muttered, “Damn it. The condom.”

“It’s probably all right,” Emma said, her voice sounding a little raw from all the crying out she’d done earlier. “I’m on birth control.”

“I thought you were on a Man-Fast.”

“I am.” She giggled a little. “I was. I was supposed to be. But I didn’t stop with the birth control because… because…”

“Because why?”

“Because you were in town.”

He smiled, his heart warming at this little confession. He nuzzled her gently, wishing he didn’t have to move.

“So assuming you don’t have any diseases,” she continued, “we should be okay.”

“Yeah. We should be fine.”

He groaned as he finally rolled off her and stretched out on his back. “Oh, God. Patrick is going to hate me.”

She giggled again, turning onto her side so she could look at him. “He won’t. He’ll get used to it. As long as we’re… we’re…”

He knew why she was hesitating. “We’re together,” he said. “For real.”

Joy transformed her face. “Then he’ll be fine.”

He hoped so. He didn’t want to lose one of his best friends, but he also didn’t want to let Emma go.

She hadn’t commented on the fact that he’d said he loved her.

He couldn’t help but wonder why.

***

Eventually, Noah had to get up and take a shower. He felt good, though. More relaxed and satisfied than he could ever remember feeling.

He didn’t deserve to be this happy. He didn’t deserve the warm, affectionate look in Emma’s eyes every time she looked at him. And he didn’t deserve the way she kissed him when she dropped him back at the hospital before she headed into work.

He told her he’d call her later, and he saw a brief expression flutter across her face.

That tiny expression—gone as soon as he had seen it—was like a stab in his heart.

She smiled at him. “You mean it this time?” Her voice was light, almost teasing.

“I mean it,” he told her, but his throat had clamped down with a raw ache.

He’d blown it last time.

He’d crushed her hope in him, her belief that he was worthy.

It was possible that he’d do it again.

As he walked into the hospital, this knowledge had grown into a lump in his throat, and his sated leisure started to feel something other than good.

It started to feel wrong.

Emma trusted him. She wasn’t holding anything back from him now, and he was responsible for taking care of the heart she had given him.

He’d never been good at taking care of things.

He’d never been good at responsibility.

What if he fell back into his old habits?

What if he destroyed this because he wasn’t capable of making good on his intentions?

Ginny had told him he always ran eventually.

She was right about him.

Emma thought he was good, faithful, worthy of love.

She could very well be wrong.

All these bleak reflections roiled into a tight knot in his gut as he rode the elevator up to Nan’s floor.

Ginny spoke to him briefly, telling him Nan had had a hard night. The medication she was on wasn’t agreeing with her.

When Ginny left, Noah sank into a chair, his eyes focused on Nan’s frail body. She was sleeping now. She looked so old. So weak.

And Noah had abandoned her for nine years.

He wanted to turn over a new leaf, but he wondered if he really could.

All morning he talked himself out of the irrational fear. He could make decisions. He could do better, as Nan and Emma believed he could.

He wanted to be there for the people who loved him.

He wanted to commit to Emma.

He was capable of doing so. He was capable of being a better man.

He might not have given anyone proof of that over the last nine years, but it was still possible.

It was around lunchtime, and he was starting to get hungry and think about leaving for a while to grab a bite. But he became aware of a presence behind him.

Thinking it was Ginny, he turned around with a smile.

He froze in place when he saw who it was.

His father. Older. Grayer. With more of a belly than he’d had before. But still looking like an older version of Noah himself.

“What are you doing here?” Noah asked coldly, when his shock finally transformed into resentment.

There was absolutely no reason for his father to be here. No one had invited him, and no one wanted to see him.

His father arched his eyebrows in a dry expression that looked a lot like Ginny—a lot like Noah himself. “I heard Nan was in the hospital so I thought I’d stop by to see her. It would have been nice if someone had let me know before.”

“Why would we let you know?” Noah stood up because he wasn’t going to let his father loom over him. “When have you shown any interest at all in Nan over the last fifteen years?”

Noah felt sick, physically ill. He thought for a moment he might actually throw up.

He hadn’t seen his father since his mother’s funeral.

He’d never wanted to see him again.

“That’s not fair,” his father said, moving over to look down on Nan, who was sleeping peacefully for the first time that morning. “I always liked Nan.”

“Right. You liked her. The way you liked me and Ginny. Just enough to ignore us completely.”

“If this is the welcome I’d get, then it’s just as well I haven’t been reaching out to you.”

Noah had to hold onto the top of a chair so he wouldn’t sway on his feet. “What do you want?”

“I told you. To check in on Nan.”

“Well, you can see her. She’s doing okay.”

“I didn’t even know you were back in town.”

“Of course you didn’t know. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think. I’ve followed your career. You’ve done really well for yourself.”

Noah almost choked, since his father appeared to be speaking sincerely. “And that’s supposed to mean something to me?”

His father let out a long sigh and closed his eyes briefly. “What do you want from me, Noah? I’m sorry about the way things worked out, but what exactly do you want from me now?”

“I want you to leave.” Noah gritted the words out, pausing between each one. “I don’t want to see you again.”

His father’s mouth twisted slightly. “Okay. If that’s what you want. I just wished you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“I wish you’d try to understand.”

If it was possible for Noah’s head to explode from an overload of emotion, it would have done so now. “Understand? Understand? How can I understand you abandoning me and Ginny, just throwing us away for a family that was more like you wanted? We were your children. Your children. How exactly am I supposed to understand that?”

“I tried.” His father looked even older now, as if he’d aged in the last two minutes.

“You did not try at all.”

“I did. You might not know it, but I tried to see you and Ginny after I left your mom. She didn’t want me around. I guess I can understand that. But one day maybe you’ll see that I just couldn’t stay in that marriage. It was… empty. It could never make me happy.”

“Fine.” Noah was still clutching at the top of the chair, trying not to let his father see how he was trembling slightly. “You made yourself happy at our expense. If that makes you feel better, then you can use that as an excuse.”

His father’s lips parted slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well, you did anyway.”

His father’s green eyes—exactly like Noah’s—narrowed now, as if he’d grown impatient and was tired of Noah’s attitude. “And you’re telling me you really can’t understand that? You’re saying you haven’t spent your life trying to make things better for yourself, even if you ended up hurting someone else? Hurting your sister. Hurting your grandmother.” He nodded at Nan.

Noah froze—more than physically. It was like every thought, every feeling, every flicker of existence inside him suddenly went ice cold.

He saw in that moment that his father—no matter how hypocritical and infuriating—was right.

He was appallingly right.

Noah had spent all his life trying to run from his father, and instead he’d turned into him.

He’d turned into his father.

He was never going to be a better man.

He was never going to be anything but what he’d always been.

He stared at his father blindly, the whole world shuddering in an icy blur.

Last night might as well have been a dream.

No matter how much he wanted Emma, no matter how much he wanted to protect her, take care of her, love her forever, he was never going to be able to not hurt her.

Exactly the way his father had hurt him.

***

Emma was still in her office at six-thirty that evening. She was supposed to be working—catching up on some things she’d let slide over the last few days—but instead she was just staring at her phone.

Noah hadn’t called.

She’d texted him this afternoon to check in, and he hadn’t replied. At four, she’d started to get worried, so she’d called Ginny to see what was going on.

Ginny said that Nan was doing better, but Noah had just disappeared.

It wasn’t an emergency keeping him from calling her or replying to her texts.

So it was really hard for her not to think the worst.

It was like déjà vu, but worse. So much worse.

She’d given herself to him. She’d believed him when he’d said he loved her last night when he was deep inside her body. She hadn’t said it back, but she’d felt it.

She’d trusted him. For real. For good.

But once again, she’d been wrong.

She was always, always wrong about men.

Taking a deep breath, she sent him another text and waited for five minutes.

No reply.

This had to be on purpose. Noah would never do this to her otherwise. He’d know what she would think.

He had a kind heart, despite everything. He wouldn’t hurt her like this unless he intended to.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?” a voice came from her office doorway.

She blinked up and saw Patrick. He’d been smiling, but his smile faded as he studied her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Nothing.” She sniffed slightly.

She couldn’t tell Patrick. She just couldn’t.

It would destroy his friendship with Noah. She knew it would.

She didn’t want to do that.

She didn’t want Noah to lose everyone.

“Damn it, Emma, tell me what’s wrong.” Patrick came over and sat down in the chair beside her desk.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

And then another.

And she couldn’t hold back a little sob.

Patrick was her brother, and he loved her. He cared that she was hurting.

She just couldn’t lie to him.

“It’s Noah,” she began.

***

That evening, Noah was nursing one too many glasses of scotch, slumped on a barstool at a rather grimy bar on the outskirts of Christiansburg, one town over from Blacksburg.

He hadn’t wanted to see anyone he knew, so he’d come all the way out here.

He wanted to forget everything and drink himself into a stupor.

He was getting there. The agonizing ache in his chest had finally dulled over slightly from the alcohol. He didn’t feel good, though.

He felt sick.

And dirty.

And everything he’d always hated.

And Emma’s texts were still unanswered on his phone, burning a scar into his soul like a brand.

He blinked when a motion from the front entrance drew his attention. He couldn’t see very clearly. He was way too drunk for that. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to sit upright if he hadn’t been propped on the bar.

A recognition flickered in his mind, however. Something he should know, notice.

It didn’t hit him until someone was standing right beside him.

Noah recognized the face.

Patrick. His best friend since he was twelve years old.

There was no friendship evident in Patrick’s expression. No laughter or understanding.

Patrick’s face was transformed with a look of anger, resentment, real animosity.

Of course Patrick hated him now. Noah hated himself too.

He swallowed down the last of the liquid in his glass. It didn’t even burn his throat anymore. “Hey there,” he slurred. “Old friend.”

Patrick sucked in an audible breath. Then he drew back his arm and levered it forward hard, slamming his fist into Noah’s face.