“No, I know the way. You stay here.” I told Magnus good night and gave Noah a dumb little wave and left. When I got outside, I thought about the enormity of what I’d done. I’d intentionally kissed someone. I’d intentionally kissed Noah Douglas. And that anxiety attack, where I’d really kissed someone and hadn’t just come close to doing it, had felt less intense than the others. Whether that was because of the method Noah had me use or just how he’d supported me through it, I didn’t know. All I did know was that it had been better.
He’d been right—I had accomplished something important, and I deserved a little celebration. So I jumped up and threw my fists in the air, feeling like I’d just won a battle. Well, maybe I hadn’t won it, but I hadn’t died in the end, so that was good, too.
Twirling around, it was then that I noticed Noah standing at the front window, apparently keeping an eye on me as I walked back to Gladys’s. I stopped my spinning, dropping my arms. His grin let me know he’d seen all of it.
Thankful he couldn’t see me blushing because it was dark, I bowed to him instead and laughed out loud when he bowed to me in return with a big, courtly hand flourish.
I nearly skipped the whole way back.
I’d forgotten what hope felt like.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next night Noah texted me to come by at nine. This time I decided to make a little effort. My clothes were pretty much the same, but I showered and actually blow-dried my hair so that it was soft and shiny. I left it down. I put on some eye makeup. Not a ton, but enough to give me a mental boost. I scrubbed my teeth again within an inch of their tiny white lives and left off the lip gloss, because I didn’t need to make an already difficult situation worse by adding pink stickiness on top of it.
When I got to his house, it was the same routine as the night before. I knocked, he yelled at me to come in, Magnus ran over to check things out. And Noah was in the same spot in the kitchen where he’d been before, again, eating a bowl of cereal.
“Your hair,” he said, with a mouthful of milk. He swallowed and then said, “I’ve never seen it down before. I like it.”
The look in his eyes was soft and appreciative, and it made my stomach do somersaults. I found my brain wanting to head into a sarcastic place where, to protect myself and my feelings, I’d say, “I didn’t do it for you,” but that was untrue. I’d totally done it for him and I’d wanted him to notice and I was glad that he did.
So I just said, “Thanks.” Then I cleared my throat and told him, “There are things you could eat besides cereal, you know.”
He shook his head. “It’s my favorite food.”
“Cereal is not anybody’s favorite food.”
“I know I should probably say it’s something sophisticated like sushi, but it is definitely cereal.” He drank the rest of the milk in his bowl before placing it in the sink. Then he started opening upper cabinets. And every single one of them was filled, top to bottom, side to side, with boxes of different brands of cereals.
“You’re some kind of weird cereal hoarder,” I said in awe. I liked that he wasn’t this stereotypical macho movie star but had these quirky and nerdy sides that he let me see. Because those were the parts of him I related to.
And liked.
“It’s not hoarding if I eat it all. Which I will.” He closed the cabinet doors and said, “I thought we should watch a movie tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“Come with me.” He stopped in front of me, offering his hand. My heart jumped up into my throat in both surprise and anticipation. He’d never done that before. But to be fair, our entire situation consisted of things happening between us that had never happened to me before. I slid my hand into his and loved the way his closed around mine, how strong and warm he felt.
I was holding hands with Noah Douglas. It was like my brain couldn’t process that this was actually happening. I wouldn’t want to be overly dramatic or anything, but my teenage self literally would have died if she could have seen what I was doing right now.
Tingling shivers were running up and down my arm as he led me into a room I hadn’t gone in before. There was a couch and a TV mounted to the wall, and other than yet another dog bed that Magnus was currently occupying, that was it.
He sat and pulled me down next to him. Really close next to him.
“I’ve been trying to think of ways to make this easier. Which made me think of when people typically get their first kisses. When they’re teenagers. So maybe part of the problem is that we’re not doing any teenage courtship rituals. There’s been no physical buildup to our kiss.”
I held up our still-connected hands. “Like holding hands?”
“Yes. I’ve held back from touching you before because you seemed so skittish. Which I understand now, but if you’re okay with it, I think we should try to do those physical things, like cuddling and holding hands, and I don’t really know what else we should be doing because all of my knowledge about what normal teens do is based on a TV show, so I’m guessing they’re not entirely accurate.”
My heart again had that glowy, fluttery feeling. “You are giving this an extraordinary amount of thought.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Honestly, I’m worried if I think about it too much, I’ll go running into the hills and never return. In case you didn’t notice, I’m all about avoidance as a coping mechanism.”
He nodded, serious. “I noticed. I told you, I tend to overanalyze things when left to my own devices, like our current circumstances.”
“I’m trying to be in the present with you. Not thinking about it but just doing it.”
“Would you be okay, then, with us touching each other?”
This was something I could definitely get on board with. I had been, like he said, skittish when it came to men touching me, because touching had always led us down a road that ended in kissing. So I stayed away from it to avoid the end result.
But this time I was trying to get to that place.
“I would be okay with it. And you don’t have to ask me every time. This is my blanket permission.”
His wolfish grin momentarily made me think maybe that had been the wrong decision. Then he reached up with his free hand and ran his fingertips along the edge of the sapphire pendant necklace I was wearing. I felt little tendrils of fire every place that he touched me. My skin was flushing from the sensation. “So you’d be okay if I told you this was pretty. That you look pretty wearing it.”
It was like somebody had slammed into me, leaving me momentarily breathless. “What?”
“Where did you get it?”
“It was a college graduation present. Sapphires are my birthstone. My mom worked extra hours to get it for me.”
The next thing that occurred to me was that this was just like the scene in the second Duel of the Fae movie where Malec ripped the truth-telling locket from Aliana’s neck, and instead of being upset with him for destroying a piece of her magic, she kissed him.
I was understanding her reasoning.
“Or you’re fine if I do this,” he said.
Now he moved his hand from my collarbone to my hair, running his fingers through the ends, watching the way the strands twined around his fingers. “So soft,” he murmured, saying it in a way that made me think he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.