30
Looking Back at Mistakes
~Claire~
Hearing what Noah felt right before he disappeared, I saw him in a different light. It’s like he finally tore down this barrier I never knew he had. I never knew his jealousy ran so deeply that he could be jealous of a thing and not just people.
As he talked, I remembered back to when we first came to New York. I remember him telling me his fears then, but I never listened.
“You seem like a different person.”
“It scares me.”
“I’m afraid we’ll drift apart. You’re finding yourself, and we won’t fit anymore.”
“I’m afraid I won’t fit anymore. I’m afraid you’ll see that, and where will that leave me?”
“I’m selfish, Claire. So damn selfish when it comes to you.”
I was too caught up in the excitement, too happy to be away from my hometown, living with Noah, being on my own, looking forward to the future, school, new friends. I didn’t see then how scared Noah was. I brushed off his fears, thinking it was fleeting.
Then I thought back to the last weeks of my mom’s life, when I wasn’t having fun and hanging out with new friends. Noah was there for me in a way no one else could, and he seemed happier than he had been before I found out about my mom. We were closer, like we had been before coming to the city. That’s why it hit me so hard when he disappeared. And now I can see perfectly clear what I didn’t before.
Noah’s words, him telling me what he will do if there is a next time when his nature gets the best of him, almost made me smile. Not because of what he said, but how he said it, like a petulant child who was being taught a lesson by their parent. It reminded me so much of Nico.
As for his comments about things being different this time in the city, I can see that. This time, there is no excitement and changes. I have been settled in for a long time, and Noah had months to settle himself in before we ran into each other at that bar. He read the letters. He had time to prepare himself for the changes, which makes me wonder if I instinctively knew he would need that. Living apart—mostly—he can go home and get away from me and Nico if it’s too much, though he hasn’t.
He kept true to his promise to me. For the past five months, he has been randomly sending me flowers and little gifts. It gets embarrassing sometimes, like when he sends them to the theater. That’s not really me. I don’t need those things, though it is nice to know I am thought of on a regular basis.
What I love are the little things, like how Nico and Noah always have dinner waiting for me when I get home. Or sometimes they pick me up from the theater and take me out. I love watching the two of them interact; that’s the kind of gift I want. Or the fun times, like when Noah is relentless in his pursuit to rub my feet, which turns into a huge tickling fight that includes Nico jumping on the both of us, taking my side and attacking Noah with me. Or the mornings when I wake up to find Nico had found his way to sleep with his daddy on the couch. I swear Noah stays at our house more than his.
Sometimes Noah has me meet him somewhere while Nico is with Giuliana. I was a little uncomfortable with that at first, being tricked, thinking Nico would be there, too, but I’m used to it now. The first time he set me up was a week after Nico’s birthday and after our talk and kisses.
I asked him what he was doing with the whole wooing and dinner thing, and his response was, “You’re the one who kissed me back.” I couldn’t argue that, but I still told him it was a bad idea. In the end, he convinced me to take a night off, stating I was already there, so I might as well take advantage.
He kept the conversations on Nico, asking about our time in Italy. I’m sure this was to make me comfortable. It was a nice time, and then he dropped me off at home and went back to his place.
The sneak attacks became a game after that. I went out with him and Nico so much that I never knew when Nico wouldn’t be there. The times Nico wasn’t, I would sigh and shake my head at Noah before leaving it alone and enjoying the night.
Truth is, I am slowly falling in love with Noah again, and I adore every minute of it. I don’t want the game to end.
However, there is one more test I want to put Noah through. It was a sore spot in the beginning of our first relationship. It seems like the same game is being played, yet I haven’t voiced any complaint because I have been playing it back on him. That’s going to change soon. It’s going to be the game changer.
All our “dates,” the months of spending time as a family, we have not been physical. The mood hasn’t been like that. It’s more of a friendly nature, though I know we both want to cross that bridge. Noah finds ways to cuddle on the couch. Fall asleep there, too. Sometimes we hold hands, which he always initiates. We always sit close to each other, finding ourselves in our own little world and forgetting our surroundings and the people watching us. I never realized this until it was brought to my attention when we went to my dad’s house for Christmas.
I only had three days to be home before having to return to work. Unbeknownst to Noah, my dad has been spending Christmases with his family. Either his family goes to Dad’s house or he goes to Mark and Katy’s. Except for when I was in Italy and couldn’t get away, then my dad and Kyle went to visit me there. This year, my dad held Christmas and all our family was there, plus Giuliana, who I guess is practically family now since Kyle proposed to her a few months ago.
Christmas morning, everyone gathered together for a morning brunch, and then we watched as Nico and Abigail tore into their gifts; too many gifts if you ask me. Being the only babies, they were both spoiled.
Noah gave me a locket with my birthstone in the center and Nico’s at the top. Diamonds were scattered around the rest of it. It looked like an antique, and I loved it. Noah explained to me why he got it, what everything meant, opening the locket to show a single picture of Nico, both of us having one of those moments when we were lost in our own world.
Katy pointed this out to me later, asking me what was going on. I told her we were just friends, while inside I yearned for more.
My doubts and insecurities were fast being locked in a box. Seeing Noah with Nico, my heart told me he would never leave us. He would never leave his son. However, Katy’s concern had let a bit of doubt seep back in.
She told me I had missed all the looks everyone was shooting at each other while we were in our bubble. Everyone was afraid of Noah running off again. They were afraid of what would happen to me, to Nico, if he did. No one trusted him anymore.
I stood up for Noah, telling her that wasn’t going to happen again. I told her I was more aware of him now than I ever was. That we were older, life was more settled. We weren’t kids anymore. Noah was a father, and he was doing everything possible to prove that we could depend on him. And Noah overheard.
He stopped in the doorway of my dad’s office, having come to look for me. I knew he was there, though Katy didn’t. When I was done with my tirade, he walked away, and I followed after him. I knew that look on his face, and I didn’t need him to feel the self-loathing I saw there. He needed to know his family was as concerned to lose him as they were of Nico and I being left behind.
I knew now how he ticked in a way I never knew before. Maybe I was too young then to see it. I know I was certainly in my own world then. Now I knew better. Age and experience had taught me—opened my eyes—to pay attention to those around me. And I watched Noah incessantly.
Catching up to him, I led him into the solarium at the back of the house. I thought of ways to explain to him what everyone was thinking, making excuses for them, but in the end, I simply told him, “I trust you,” and then I kissed him. Just like that. It was the only thing I knew to give him to turn around his mood. Not the kiss, but the words. Because, it was true. It didn’t take years, as I thought it would. It only took months.
And Noah kissed me back. He kissed me back. And it was like everything I remembered, plus more.
He cupped my face with both hands, using almost bruising force, and I tangled my hands in his hair, holding him to me. It was several moments before we broke apart, me ending up on a table with him between my legs, both of us out of breath. We were inseparable after that.
Noah and I went from having a love at first sight, practically dive right into a relationship the first time, to building trust and establishing friendship this go-around. Love has always been there. How could it not? He was my first love, and we created a child together. I couldn’t let go of that. There was also a lot of pain attached to that, and years of never letting go, dwelling on the bad, never forgetting the good.
I hope tonight we can get past all of that and continue to bury the bad with all the good. Noah has to give me one more thing. I am being the selfish one now.
After dragging our suitcases in and Noah gets a sleepy Nico to bed, he grabs his bag and starts to empty out some of Nico’s Christmas gifts that wouldn’t fit in the extra suitcase my dad let us borrow. I wasn’t kidding about the spoiling this year. It was too much.
“You think I should take these with me so he has more to play with at my place?”
I look up from uploading the Christmas pictures onto my laptop, seeing Noah look at the extra suitcase then at the bin of toys that keeps residence in the living room.
I bite my lip, not knowing how to answer that. I want to tell him no. I want to tell him that I don’t want Nico staying at his place anymore. I don’t want Noah staying at his own place anymore. I want him here. I hold my tongue, though, because that won’t happen anytime soon.
Noah bought a bigger place a few months ago. I must say, he makes a lot more money than I ever will. His condo is gorgeous with its open floorplan, hardwood floors, and four bedrooms. It’s about four times the size of my dinky apartment. I don’t know why he would buy it when he spends all his time here. He hasn’t even completely furnished the place yet. Last time I was there, all he had were the basics, besides Nico’s room. That’s the only room that seems finished.
“Yeah, I guess,” I answer, looking away from him. I don’t want him to see the disappointment in my eyes.
He doesn’t say anything, which makes me look up at him again from my position on the couch. He’s studying me in that way of his. His head is tilted to the side, his eyes penetrating. I know it’s because I’m sending mixed signals again, but so is he.
He stays here so often, yet he acts like he’s getting ready to leave. Our flight didn’t come in until after eleven p.m., and now it’s closing in on one o’clock in the morning, so why does he seem like he is in a hurry to get out of here? I thought we hit some pinnacle after our kiss at my dad’s house.
“Well, I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Noah stands, bag in hand.
Before he can take a step, I stand, too, and say, “Wait.” He remains where he is as I walk up to him, arms folded across my chest in a protective stance. “Why are you leaving?” comes out more timorous than I wanted it to.
Noah shifts in place, looking down and avoiding eye contact before searing me with one look. “Because I want to sleep in a bed for once.”
“Oh.” I feel like a bitch now. Noah sleeps on my couch more than he sleeps in his own bed, and while my couch is pretty comfy, it doesn’t compare to an actual bed. If he leaves, though, I can’t proceed with my plan. “Um, you want to take my bed?”
Noah shakes his head. “No, Claire, I’m not going to take your bed from you.” Now he looks tortured.
Tightening my arms around myself, my toes curling and relaxing in a nervous habit, I take a deep breath and sputter, “I mean … with me.” I close my eyes after saying that, unable to believe how foolish I sound. I haven’t initiated anything in a long time. Not at all with Jesse. He was always the one to go there. Noah was the only one, but that seems like forever ago. I feel inexperienced once again.
Just imagining what sharing a bed with Noah used to be like causes liquid heat to pool between my thighs. I clench at the memory and open my eyes, seeing the arousal I feel reflected back at me.
“Are you sure?” Noah asks, his eyes smoldering, his entire body so taut that it vibrates.
Maintaining eye contact, I answer, “Yes.”
Quicker than I can compute, Noah drops his bag and, in the next second, he grips my hips and hauls me up his body. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist then rest my arms on his shoulders, staring eye level with him as he carries me down the hall and into the bathroom.
I am visually shaking with nerves at this point. I want this. I need this. And by the eagerness in Noah’s movements, he wants this, too. By the yearning in his eyes, he needs this. By the wariness in the way he watches me, he can’t believe this is real.
“Um … Why the bathroom?” I ask when he sets me down on the vanity.
“Because it will give me time to reacquaint myself with your body while washing off all that airport funk,” he says, sounding out of breath and visibly shaking as much as me.
I giggle, more out of nervousness than humor. “I forgot about that phobia.”
Noah turns on the shower then steps toward me, peeling off his socks with each step. “Why do you say it like that? That phobia,” he mocks, grabbing the hem of my off-the-shoulder sweater and peeling it up my body. I unsteadily raise my hands in the air. It feels like prom night all over again, just a vastly different setting.
Smiling like an idiot, I say, “Well, there’s your animal phobia—I will never forget that one. Your ‘dude’ phobia, kissing the rest of the world pho—”
Noah kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, and I moan, feeling him slip his fingers into my waistband before he presses his thumb right there, through my comfy leggings.
“Oh, God,” I moan, already so close to climaxing after working myself up all day thinking about this moment.
Noah removes his thumb, and then I feel both his hands at my waist. “Lift up,” he orders, and I brace myself on the counter, lifting my hips so Noah can peel my leggings and panties down.
The tease doesn’t touch me again as I watch him take off the rest of his clothes, adding them to the growing pile on the floor at our feet. His body is so much different than it used to be. Broader, more filled out, yet still so familiar. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me, if he sees differences in me, too.
Never taking his eyes off me, he then steps toward me again, reaching up to unfasten my hair from the many pins holding my messy bun in place. I hear them chink on the countertop before he runs his hands through my hair, massaging my scalp and checking for any more pins. Another moan escapes me at the feel of his hands, and I shut my eyes at the ecstasy of it.
“I miss your hair being long,” he whispers as he caresses his lips along my forehead and down one cheek. The hot steam from the shower is already drenching my skin, perspiring the counter, the mirror, making everything a slick surface.
I open my eyes, seeing his chest in front of me. Reaching out, I rove the back of both hands down his chest, down his waist, his hips, before circling one hand around the engorged part of him.
My breaths quickening, I stroke him, a small smile coming to my lips when I hear his sharp intake of air. Then he is pulling away from me, bracing his hands on either side of me on the counter, bent over and taking gasping breaths.
“Not yet,” he stresses, whereas my body demands differently. I need him inside me unlike I have ever needed anything else.
On shaky legs, I hop off the counter, forcing him to straighten and back away as he eyes me warily, probably wondering what I am about to do.
Instead of giving in to my body’s needs, I turn and step into the shower. The hot water is painful to every sensitive nerve ending, making my need so much more pronounced.
I feel Noah step in behind me, and then I feel his hands at my hips, pulling me back until our bodies are pressed close. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly as the water sprays down on us.
“Jesus, Claire, I never thought we would be here again. I hoped and prayed, but …”
“Hush,” I tell him, turning in his embrace and wrapping my arms around his waist.
I feel him against my abdomen, but before I can move to attend to our needs, he again steps away from me.
He can be so frustrating. It’s starting to feel like the same game all over again, yet on a much bigger scale here.
I feel my face heating further at the annoyance, until he lathers his hands, and then they are everywhere: my breasts, my waist, between my legs … I tremble from the most delicious feel of him touching me everywhere I have longed for.
As he kneels in front of me, I grip his hair, watching as he stares at the most private part of me. He licks his lips as he slides his hand up the inside of my thigh. When he reaches his target, he looks up at me, watching me react to the play of his talented fingers. The desire in his eyes alone makes me want to release.
Needing to brace myself from the orgasm already near the surface, I lean against the wall, closing my eyes as I tilt my head back, focusing on touch alone—his touch. I can hardly bear it, my hips moving of their own accord, thrusting into his touch. Then his mouth joins in, and I am done, biting my lip and bearing down against his ministrations as I hold a scream in check, breathing unsteadily through my nose. Noah continues as my body wrings out every sap of energy I have and then some, until I feel another climax coming.
Out of fear of my own body, unable to stand the sensations any longer, I try to move away from him, but he grabs one of my legs and holds it over his shoulder, which gives him even more access. This time, I can’t hold back the shout of surprise when my body tightens and releases with another orgasm. I call out his name repeatedly as my body fights to get closer to him and what he is doing to me. I can’t control my own thoughts; simple pleasure overrides every action.
Finally, finally, Noah gives up his torture, sinuously rising from his knees. His eyes are so dark with lust, fervid with desire. It’s a look I missed, though I barely remember. At any rate, my memory didn’t do the look justice.
He braces his hands on the wall beside my head then leans over until we are eye level, our lips so close that, when he talks, they brush against mine, eliciting another moan from me.
“I need to get cleaned up. Why don’t you dry off and wait for me?”
Reaching for his erection, I say, “Why don’t I return the favor instead?”
Chuckling, a grin tips up half his lips. “Angel, you already did.” When I look at him in confusion, my brows furrowing, he explains, “It’s, uh … been a while, so …”
Understanding dawns, and I blush. I try to cover it by looking down, seeing that, despite that, he is still hard. I bite my lip before looking back at him, grinning in excitement that I have that effect on him. I didn’t even need to touch him.
“I’ll check on Nico while you finish.” I grimace, thinking about our kid possibly hearing me. “I hope I didn’t wake him.”
Noah chuckles again before pressing a kiss to my lips, and then I’m slipping past him.
~Noah~
Faster than I ever have before, I quickly lather my body and rinse off, thinking back to my determination to win Claire over.
For the past five months, her sweet kisses and thank you after I told her my reasoning for leaving took over everything else. All my songwriting went into that time we spent in her bedroom, writing about letting go of the past, admitting to mistakes. And my determination finally paid off when she told me she trusted me.
No words have ever sounded sweeter. Not words of love, exculpation, adoration. Hearing her say she trusted me after working so hard to earn that trust means more to me than anything else. And when she kissed me, I felt spiritually exalted. I took that kiss and filled in all the years we spent apart. I wanted her to feel how much regret, self-hatred, and loss I felt before I found my way back. And how much adoration, gratefulness, and fortitude I feel to be back and to make sure to never wander a separate path from hers again. Because she is where I belong. She is my home.
She is the only one who has ever made me feel cherished, important. She is the only woman who can bring me to my knees. She is the only one who makes me feel like I matter. And I know I do … to her, to Nico, and that’s all that matters to me. They are my entire world.
Stepping out of the shower, I briskly dry myself off. Then I walk out of the bathroom, steam rolling out with me until it meets its end with the cooler temperature. I press my ear against Nico’s door, not hearing anything. I don’t want to go in there, knowing Claire probably did already. Too much risk waking him up.
In Claire’s bedroom, a place I hardly ever step foot in, I find her combing her hair on the edge of the bed, wearing a silk robe I once bought her long ago in Chinatown. She loved that little adventure.
I silently watch as she runs the comb through her long locks, and then soaks up the water at the ends with a towel before repeating the combing process. I remember how she always hated to sleep with wet hair, how she would wait until morning to wash it, and then spend half an hour blowing it out, though it never seemed to dry all the way. I always loved watching her routine. Watching her like I am now, watching as she gets lost in her own thoughts, looking at the wall but not seeing it, seeing something I am not privy to.
I shut the door, locking it, and then walk over to her. She finally notices me, turning her head to watch me as I once again kneel at the feet of my angel.
The comb slips from her fingers as I part her robe, finding her still completely bare and now open to me. I run my hands along her hips, digging my fingers in as I slide her back farther onto the bed then follow her up. The towel slips off my waist as I maneuver her, situating her back against the pillows before shadowing over her, covering her body with mine.
“Are you sure?” I hate that the words slip out, but I have to know. This is like the first time all over again, and I don’t want her to have any regrets.
When she nods, I blow out a relieved breath then start trailing kisses over her breasts that are fuller than they were when she was eighteen. I then suck one peak into my mouth, earning a gasp and the arching of her back, pressing her breast more firmly against my mouth.
My dick is already pressing against where it wants to be as Claire rotates her hips, rubbing herself off on it, trying to notch it in place. My dick is telling me foreplay is over. That happened back in the shower. And it seems that Claire is thinking along the same lines.
Kissing and nipping my way up her neck, I finally press my lips against Claire’s, mimicking our kiss from this past summer, waiting for her move. She doesn’t disappoint.
Claire opens to me, one hand in my hair, holding my head where she wants it. Her other hand moves from my ass to my cock, where she lines it up, tilts her hips and, using her legs wrapped around me, slams me into her while pushing her hips up. We both groan and gasp into each other’s mouths.
The sensation of being inside her is so overwhelming I almost come again. My entire body shudders at the sensation, and then my eyes meet hers as I pull back, using my forearms to balance myself over her.
I watch as a tear escapes the side of her eye, running down to disappear in her hairline.
“I want to stay like this, but I need you to move, and I need it as hard as you can give.”
Brows drawn in, I ask, “Why?”
She licks her lips, and then I watch her mouth as she speaks. “Because there’s still too many angry and resentful emotions between us to be any other way. I want to get it all out before we move on.”
Understanding what she is asking for, I give her a look that I hope says she asked for it. Then, summing up all the self-hatred I have for myself, I pull back until the tip of my cock is in her before pounding back into her, and I don’t stop.
This is nothing like our first time when I was as gentle and careful as I could be. No, this time around, it’s bruising, uncontrollable, painful. It’s invigorating, embodying, heartbreaking. It’s a battle against all the pain I caused her and all the pain I caused myself. I pound away my insecurities into her, and then she takes control and rides all her anger out on me. It’s cleansing.
After she takes an orgasm from me, she collapses on my chest, sweat and maybe even residual shower droplets sucking our skin together. I roll her over, still inside her, and back to the position we started in. Locking her arms against her sides with mine, I brace myself so I don’t put too much weight on her.
Smoothing back all her matted hair, I ask, “Is that what you wanted?”
Her eyes closed, she hums her assent.
I grin, softly kissing her lips. She opens her eyes as I pull back, and my grin falls as I look back at her, the impact of what is happening hitting me.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” I wonder if she even knows she’s as beautiful inside. Only an angel would give me a second chance.
Her eyes soften at my words. Then she wiggles her hips, getting comfortable, and I groan at how it feels inside of her, closing my eyes as I feel my dick twitch and swell.
“I want to make love to you this time.”
She smirks, giving me a seductive look with her half-lidded eyes. “This time?”
I nod.
She’s clenching her inner muscles, which makes it hard to articulate anything. I already feel myself hardening. Soon, if not already, she will feel it, too.
“This time, and then again.”
Her eyes widen at that. “How many times do you plan on having sex tonight?”
“As many times as we can until Nico wakes up.” I am totally serious. I have years to make up for, which leads me to another thought. “Birth control?”
Claire sobers up at that, her smirk fading. “Same as last time, but I keep up with my appointments.” She pauses. “I guess it’s too late to ask, but are you—”
“I’m clean,” I tell her while nodding. “I would have told you otherwise before the whole trying-to-get-you-back mission.”
“ ’Kay.” She smiles back at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Playing with a strand of her hair, I start, “I—Claire … I can’t tell you enough—”
“Shh …” She lifts her head and presses a kiss to my lips. “Leave it in the past now, Noah. That’s all I want. That’s all we can do if we want to move forward. ’Kay?” When I nod, adoration for this angel making my chest feel like it’s going to burst, she wraps her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, and whispers against my lips, “Make love to me now.”
I don’t even hesitate. With my body sensitive to every touch, my heart pounding, and my soul soaring, I make good on my promise. I make love to her all night, taking my time, memorizing her body again. And when dawn breaks over the horizon, I hold her to me for a couple of hours, not letting sleep take me with her. I simply hold her, watching her peaceful, contented face, listening to her even breaths. Then I get up, get dressed, and wait for our son to wake up so I can share breakfast with him.
Such simple and mundane tasks follow me for the rest of the day, yet it’s the best day I have ever had, because it’s the first day I spend as an authentic family.