Noah just looked amused. “Given this a lot of thought, have you?”
“Yes. And now I’m getting upset all over again. So before that happens, we should just, you know, kiss or whatever. That’s what I’m here for, right?”
“That is why you’re here.” He set his bowl down in the sink and walked over to me. I was already pressed up against the wall, so there was nowhere for me to go. “So, Juliet Nolan, are you ready?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I was so not ready. My adrenaline grabbed me by the throat, making my heart beat out of control. “I want to say yes, but can we, like, be sitting down or something?”
“I should probably go brush my teeth. Like you already did.” He winked at me, and it annoyed me.
What was he implying? “Did you consider that maybe I just have a dedication to good oral hygiene?”
“You were getting ready for our kiss.”
“That wasn’t it.”
“Your minty breath says otherwise.” He said it as a parting shot as he left the kitchen. I made my way into the library and found Magnus already there, lying in his oversize dog bed near the fireplace.
I sat down on the couch, rubbing my wet palms against my pant legs. I tried telling myself that I was okay. Noah was a good guy and I had nothing to worry about.
Before I could get too into my own head, he returned. “Hey, would it help if I got you a drink?”
“No.” I shook my head harder than I needed to. “I’ve tried that before, and it didn’t work. If anything, alcohol just made things worse, because everything seemed even more out of control. I need to be sober for this.”
“Okay.” He sat on the couch next to me. “So I stayed up late last night doing research.”
“You did?” Why did that make my heart quiver? It seemed so sweet and thoughtful. I hadn’t bothered to look up my phobia at all, but he’d stayed up to do just that?
“Of course. You’re my friend. I want to help you. And from the things I read, your reaction to kissing is a hardwired, conditioned response, and you can’t just logic or reason your way out of it. That’s why it’s a phobia. It’s not supposed to be rational. There’s actually not a ton of information about philemaphobia, although it’s not supposed to be as severe as other phobias. With other phobias you might have to get cognitive behavioral therapy or exposure therapy. What we’re doing is kind of like a home version of exposure therapy. And supposedly just the act of kissing and getting through it can help you overcome it.”
I wanted that to be true so badly. I couldn’t picture myself going to a professional’s office and doing therapy. Not only because I couldn’t afford it, but it was so hard telling Noah the truth that I didn’t want to have to do it all over again. I realized that there was a possibility this wouldn’t work, but I was still hopeful that it would.
If things got worse instead of better, maybe I’d have to consider seeing a therapist. I hoped it didn’t come to that.
Noah was still talking, and I made myself pay attention. “One therapist called it sexual stage fright, and I know stage fright. You want to throw up and run away, but then you have to go out there and perform. And it gets a bit easier each night. You just start off small and then build up from there.”
There was a pounding in my head that was so loud it made it difficult to hear him. My lungs were starting to constrict as my body got itself ready to jump immediately into fight or flight. “That makes sense.”
“And I want to make some promises to you. I am not going to make fun of your kissing or tease you about how you do it, and I’ll never judge you. I won’t do anything that you haven’t asked me to do. You’re the director here—what you say goes. Nothing will happen unless you want it to, okay? So I’m promising that I’m never going to get caught up and forget myself.”
“Even if you really want to?”
“Even if I really, really want to,” he said, and there was a note in his voice that made my stomach feel like it was going to float away. “I promise that you’ll always be a hundred percent safe with me.”
“Thank you.” It seemed like such an inadequate thing to say, but his promises meant a lot to me. They didn’t stop my shins from sweating, though.
“I was also thinking that you should probably kiss me first. That way you’re totally in control.”
“But I don’t know what to do.” Didn’t he get that’s why all of this was happening?
“It will be fine. Don’t use your teeth. Ramming your teeth into someone is not sexy.”
Ha. Lies. His teeth were extremely sexy.
He was still talking, and I tried to concentrate. “And maybe no weird licking in the beginning.”
“What’s weird licking?” I asked, alarmed. “What if I do it by accident?”
“I’ll let you know if it happens. Just know that when you’re kissing someone you want to kiss, it can feel a lot like the sensations you’ve described from your attacks. Your heart beats fast, you’re out of breath, you feel light-headed, only you shouldn’t feel like you’re going to die. Those feelings should be happening in a pleasurable way instead of a frightening one. Which is why people keep doing it. I hope there comes a point that you fall on that side of the scale.”
“Me too.”
“Look. I want to show you something. Is it okay if I take your hand for a second?”
“Yes.”
He wrapped his long fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand to his chest, placing it over his heart. It was beating fast. “You’re not the only one affected.”
And we stayed in that moment, his chest feeling strong and sure, his heart pounding beneath my palm.
“Do you want to kiss me?” It wasn’t something I had asked him before. He’d volunteered to help me out, but I didn’t know if he was just being a nice guy or if he was actually into it.
His words were low, and I could feel them rumbling inside his chest. “Very much so. And you?”
“I want to want it, but it’s all sort of abject terror right now.”
“You’ll do it, and we’ll keep doing it. It’s why actors rehearse. We practice it over and over again until it feels natural. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day. We got this.”
“If you tell me ‘Go, team,’ I’m going to punch you,” I informed him.
“If I said that, I’d deserve it.” He shifted a little closer, but I kept my hand on his chest. I liked it there, liked the feeling of his strength and warmth. “So, come on. Let’s go, team!”
That made me laugh, and I realized that had been his intent all along. It did help me to relax slightly.
And then there was no more delaying. If I was going to do this, I was going to do this. I had to move quickly. So many of my alarms / warning bells were already sounding in my head. I wanted to make a move before they could stop me.
So I did it.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. There was a moment where I registered his warmth, the softness of his lips.
But before he could respond to me at all, I was moving away from him, crouching on the floor because I felt like I was falling. The room was spinning, and I was convinced I was going to pass out. My heart thumped hard against my chest, and my rib cage was constricted, like someone was sitting on me. I couldn’t breathe.