Chapter 12

14 YEARS EARLIER

 

I’m on a date.

It’s my first date of college. Even though my crush on Noah Walsh is still very much present, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that our relationship will consist mostly of waving hello when we pass each other on campus, or maybe some small talk in the hallway. Noah isn’t really my type anyway—I’ve always preferred more artistic guys than clean-cut, athletic, pre-meds.

Derek Malone is more my type of guy.

He’s in my Visual Studies course, and he’s an art major like me. Long hair, ink-stained fingertips, a goatee. And I like him just as much after our dinner out at an Italian restaurant. We talked about our common class, although less about our visual relationship to nature and culture than we did about how our professor has the strangest, unidentifiable accent. Derek guessed he was French—I thought Russian. It was quite a debate.

As Derek walks me back to my dorm, I wonder if he’s going to kiss me goodnight. It will be my first kiss of college—something surely memorable. I wonder if Derek’s goatee will feel scratchy against my chin. I wonder if he’ll try to slip me some tongue. Or if I’ll let him.

“May I walk you upstairs?” Derek asks me as we approach the door to my dorm. The wind is blowing his long, brown hair into his face, and he looks very much the artist. If he were a musician, this could be his album cover.

I smile. “Of course you may.”

We make it up to my front door and that’s where our date will come to an end. Derek turns to face me, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “I had a great time, Bailey.”

“So did I,” I reply honestly.

We stare at each other for a minute while my heart pounds in my chest. Is he going to kiss me? I want him to kiss me. If he doesn’t kiss me, I’ll spend the next week wondering what I did wrong.

But I don’t have to worry much longer. Derek leans forward and presses his lips against mine. Derek’s tongue probes my mouth just a little more than I would have wanted, but I forgive him for that. It’s hard for guys to know the exact right amount of tongue. And bonus points for pulling back at exactly the right moment.

This is the perfect end to this date. All I can think about is when we’re going to have our next one.

Except then Derek leans forward and kisses me again. This kiss is more aggressive than the first one, his tongue more probing and insistent. I feel his body pressing me against the door to my room, getting closer than I’d want him to on a first date. Not that I’m a prude, but…

“How about we go inside?” he breathes in my ear.

I shake my head. “Not tonight.”

“Come on,” he whines. “Just for a little while.”

Before I can answer, he kisses me again. This time, I don’t allow my tongue to respond to him at all. This kiss is most certainly unwelcome. Especially the way he’s pressing his body against me so firmly that I can hardly move or breathe. Derek is thin but wiry.

“I’m just sort of tired,” I say when he pulls away for air. “I’d like to go home.”

“But we’re having such a great time,” he points out. “And it’s still early.”

“I think my roommate might be home,” I mumble, even though it’s eleven o’clock on a Saturday night, which means there’s no way in hell Carla’s home. She calls me pathetic when she comes home at three in the morning to find me already asleep in bed.

“Why don’t you check?”

I swallow. My perfect date is completely ruined. Why is Derek being so goddamn pushy?

“Listen,” I say, “like I said, I’m tired, so…”

“But I bought you dinner,” he says.

I frown at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that maybe you should stop being a cocktease.”

I stare at Derek. I can’t believe the guy I was thinking was so romantic only minutes earlier is turning into the biggest jerk I’ve ever met. All I want is for him to leave.

But Derek isn’t taking the cue. He pushes me against the door again, kissing me more roughly. That’s when I notice that nobody whatsoever is in the hallway. It’s Saturday night, and every single person is out with friends or at a party or just gone. I’m all alone here with Derek.

I try to shove him off me, but his fingers grab my wrists and further pin me against the door. He’s kissing my face and my neck and his body is pressed against me so hard that I can feel his erection. I try to struggle against him, but I can’t budge. He’s so goddamn strong—at least compared to me.

Shit, what am I supposed to do in this situation? Why didn’t I take that campus self-defense course when I had a chance?

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he’ll get sick of it when he sees I’m not responding, but he doesn’t. He’s kissing me more roughly while I squirm helplessly under his grip. “Please stop,” I beg him.

“Oh, cut it out, Bailey,” he says. “You know you want this.”

Tears are forming in my eyes. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe Derek is going to assault me right in the hallway outside my dorm room.

Except before the tears can escape, I feel the weight of Derek’s body being lifted off me. At first I think that Derek realized I didn’t want his advances and decided to leave me alone. Then I open my eyes and see none other than Noah Walsh throwing Derek against the wall, so roughly that his body makes a resounding thump on impact. Derek tries to make a run for it, but Noah grabs him by the collar and shoves him backwards, pinning him against the wall.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing to her?” Noah practically spits in his face. I can see the anger in his blue eyes—if it were directed at me, I would have been terrified.

“Listen, this is none of your business,” Derek says weakly. “Bailey and I were out on a date.”

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?” Noah releases Derek for a second, then buries his fist in Derek’s stomach. Derek doubles over, gasping with pain. Derek might have been able to overpower me, but Noah’s both taller and stronger than he is.

“You listen to me, you little shit,” Noah hisses at Derek. “If I ever see or hear about you laying a finger on Bailey ever again, I will personally break every bone in your puny little body. You don’t touch her, you don’t speak to her, you don’t even breathe on her. You got me, asshole?”

Derek nods, still hunched over and clutching his stomach.

“Now get the fuck out of here,” Noah growls at him.

Derek doesn’t need to be told twice. He limps off in the direction of the staircase, still holding his belly. He doesn’t look back.

Noah turns to me, breathing hard. The fire has left his eyes and he furrows his brow. “Are you okay, Bailey?”

My legs have given way underneath me, and I crouch against the door, trembling. I manage to nod.

“I just…” He glances at his own room. “I was out at a party and came back to grab a bottle of vodka I had in my room, and I saw…”

I don’t say anything. I might never speak again.

He looks down at his right hand, as if in amazement. “I never hit anyone before,” he breathes.

His blue eyes meet mine, and they are so kind that the tears I’d been holding back all this time spill over. I wipe them self-consciously, as Noah crouches down beside me. This isn’t the most comfortable place to be sitting, but he stays there with me while I cry it out. At some point, he fishes a crumpled tissue out of his jacket pocket and hands it to me.

“Do you have your room key?” he asks gently.

I nod and fish around in my purse until I find it. I pass it over to him, and he gets to his feet. He holds his hand out to me to help me stand up—his hand is big and warm and safe. He opens the door for me and leads me inside.

“Go lie down, okay?” he tells me.

“Okay,” I murmur.

Noah closes the door behind him while I settle down on my bed. I’ve never been a stuffed animal kind of girl, but now I wish I were. I want something to cuddle to feel safe.

“You’re going to be fine,” Noah says gently, kneeling down by my bed.

“What if he comes back?” I manage to say.

Noah thinks for a moment. “I’ll stay. As long as you want. Keep guard.”

“What about your party?”

He shrugs. “So what? There are a million parties.”

“Aren’t they waiting for the vodka?”

He shakes his head and laughs. “So they’ll just have to make the supplies last a little longer. It’s fine.”

I look at Noah sitting cross-legged on the ground, leaning best he can against my desk. It looks incredibly uncomfortable. He’s watching me intently, an unreadable look in his eyes. I feel a sudden and almost overpowering rush of affection toward him, something far deeper than my Freshman Crush.

“Thanks for saving me tonight,” I whisper.

“No problem,” he whispers back, his eyes never leaving mine.

The truth is, I can’t stop looking at him either.

“You look uncomfortable on the floor,” I observe.

He waves his hand and smiles crookedly. “I’m fine.”

“You can lie next to me,” I say softly. “If you want.”

His eyes widen. “Uh… I don’t… I mean, you don’t need to feel like you have to…”

“I’d feel safer if you were next to me,” I say. I’m not sure if that’s true. I feel safe with Noah on the floor. But I still want him next to me.

He doesn’t have to be told again. He gets up off the floor, slips off his sneakers, and climbs into my bed next to me. His body feels warm and large next to mine. I scoot over to get closer to him, but I can tell he’s not entirely sure what to do. Which is weird, considering he hasn’t had any shortage of girls accompanying him to his room this year.

I slide into the crook of his arm, feeling safe and comforted by the heat of his body. I rest my arm on his chest, feeling the muscles of his abdomen under my hand. He puts his own arm around my shoulder, gently pulling me closer.

I look up at his face. God, he’s sexy. He lowers his head slightly, but I’m the one who bridges the gap. I kiss him first, and despite what nearly happened with Derek, I realize I want this. I want Noah desperately, and I can’t hold back another second. It feels so right to be here in Noah’s arms. I’ve never been kissed like this before.

And as he kisses me, the fleeting thought goes through my head that this is the boy I’m going to marry someday.