Chapter Seven
I’d love to be one of those people who claim the days started flying by once they fell in love, but that would be a lie. For one, I still wasn’t sure exactly how “in love” I was, if at all. I was at least falling hard for Noah, who had come seeming out of nowhere in a blast from the recent past to commandeer my thoughts. But my faith in such miracles as he seemed to be was still very shaky. The panicky, nay-saying section of my brain that drove me to abandon my degree was convinced it couldn’t last. Not to mention, the month and a half between me and the recital stretched on like a desert. If I had thought time was slow before, it was crawling now.
There was one significant change that made the time bearable, and I think it was that I’d begun accepting happiness back into my life. It was impossible not to feel good when I was with Noah, and some of that goodness started to follow me back into the other parts of my life. The parents trundled their kids into my store, and I smiled at them. I asked questions. I started giving the piano kids some helpful tips, or recommending sheet music at their level. In short, I started doing my job the way I should have been doing it all along, and that felt almost as nice as Noah’s hand in mine.
Plus, I got a raise. That never hurts. My boss shook his head and said, “Whatever you’re doing, kiddo, keep it up.”
I laughed. “I will.”
I used to be afraid of the campus in a weird way, paranoid that if I spent too much time there, someone would recognize me and call me out. I guess that actually is what happened, but in the best way possible. And it set me free of that fear. Doors were opening again for me in the sense that I was no longer trapped in my apartment by my own hand.
Also, catching Noah between classes was often the only way to see him during the week. He let slip that he was currently taking six classes, plus a work study, a burden I found frankly ludicrous. “Are you okay?” I asked him once as we sat in one of the little studying nooks in the library. “Like, are you dying? Do you need to see a medical professional?” There was no way, in my opinion, that he couldn’t be suffering somehow.
He smiled, like I’d said something adorable. “It’s fine. I’m used to being busy.” He had his arm comfortably around me, the two of us snug in the booth.
“I don’t want to be a distraction,” I lied. I totally wanted to be a distraction, but I also wanted to respect the importance of his work like a good person would. “Feel free to tell me if I’m distracting you. I swear I’m not trying to sabotage your grades.” I was maybe protesting too much…and giving myself too much credit.
“Only a little.” He ran his thumb along the inside of my arm. I shivered and used that as an excuse to scoot closer. Honestly, I have no idea how he got anything done like that. For me, it would’ve been impossible. I was a mess of feelings inside, but I actually liked it. It was a nice mess, warm and comfortable.
I won’t bore you with every single detail of those six weeks leading into May. We managed to carve out little bits of time to see each other, and we made the momentous leap to talking verbally on the phone instead of just texting. I kept expecting to find him knocked out in the library, but it never happened. His dedication was almost inspiring.
The most exciting thing was when he came into my apartment for the first time. I was worried about whether or not he had any food to go with his coffee and energy drinks, so I ordered us some takeout and laid it out in my living room. We ate and talked, and I tried not to feel self-conscious about how much of my life was on display around him. Could he tell I’d basically been a hermit for a year? Did he know he was the first person other than me to set foot in the place since…forever? The person I had been until very recently lurked in the back of my mind, despite my best efforts to push all that away.
Noah stayed over that night. He slept on the left side of the bed, and in the morning, he spent some time kissing me before he left to start his day. We were both wearing shirts, but as his tongue quested gently between my lips, he slid one hand up under the cotton, his bare palm against my stomach. Not wanting to seem too eager, but starved for affection and physical attention, I held in a moan. His hand climbed to my chest, and then he lifted the shirt and kissed my collarbone. I let my fingers sink into his hair.
“Feels good?” he whispered. His lips moved in the hollow of my shoulder.
“Yeah.” I sighed softly. “Yeah, it does.” He traced the outside of my neck with his tongue. The moan I was holding slipped out. I couldn’t help it. Our hips rested dangerously close on the bed. One tiny move and we’d be touching. And he’d feel me getting hard.
Noah’s mouth pressed harder into my skin. I made a gentle fist in his thick black hair. He drew a breath. “What time is it?” We both glanced at my alarm clock.
“You woke me up at 7:40?” I asked, feigning shock.
“I don’t hear you complaining.” He dropped one last searing kiss on my lips and sat up. “Seriously though, I’m sorry if you think I’m teasing. I don’t have enough hours in the day to do you and all my school stuff. So I have to compromise, you know?”
“Did you just say…?” I trailed off. He held my gaze for a moment. We burst out laughing. “It’s okay.” I drew a soft pattern on his back with my fingertips. “Think about school. I’ll be here when it’s over.”
“I’m counting on it,” Noah said. He reached over his shoulder and took my hand, pressed my knuckles to his lips.