“Juliet, you can do whatever you’d like to me and there’s no way I’ll ever object.”
With a smile of my own, I leaned forward to press my lips against his.
CHAPTER TWENTY
That kiss lasted slightly longer than the first one, and he talked me through the ensuing anxiety attack. He kept his hands on my shoulders, and I wrapped my hands around his wrists, holding on for dear life. That contact was another thing to ground me, to tether me to the here and now so that I could center and focus on what was real. I wasn’t in danger. Noah would never hurt me. He had promised he’d never do any of the things that ran through my head before I’d almost kissed other guys—that I’d be mocked or tormented or found lacking.
When the attack had subsided, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“I wasn’t as scared as before. I was still afraid, but not as intensely. I still wanted to vomit at the end and it felt like I was going to hyperventilate for a while there, but it seemed better? Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.”
“I was reading that another part of trying to overcome this is to challenge negative thoughts about your phobia. If your brain tells you that it’s awful and you hate it, you remind your brain that I’m a great kisser who cares about you and will help you through this.”
I smiled. Again I was touched at all that he’d done to help me. How much time and effort he was putting into this. Why was he doing all that? Was it just for the part? To be as realistic as possible? This could hardly be worth it. I felt bad for putting him in this position. I reminded myself that he’d volunteered and maybe instead of trying to figure out what his motives were, I should just appreciate that he was willing to do it and not get hung up on it.
There was one thing he’d said to me about himself that didn’t quite match what I was personally experiencing. “You told me you were impatient and easily annoyed. So far you’ve been incredibly patient and understanding with me. I don’t get it.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s just different with you.” Then he cleared his throat and said, “How was that kiss? Any change there?”
“I’m not really getting anything from that part yet. It’s almost like kissing the back of my own hand. And I still want to puke and have a faux heart attack right after.”
“You are doing so many wonderful things for my self-esteem.”
I laughed.
“Time for phase two,” he said. He reached for the remote and turned the television on and pulled up his InstaFlicks account while I wondered what phase two meant. “Anything in particular you want to watch?”
A new rom-com had recently premiered, and I’d been wanting to see it. I was actually supposed to watch it with Shelby, but if I explained to her that I’d watched it with Noah, she would be all kinds of understanding and excited about it. I told him the title and he found it, then turned toward me. “I know I’m no Magnus, but would you be interested in cuddling with me through the movie?”
Oh. That was phase two. I waited a second for my body to react, but no part of that scared me. I knew he wouldn’t try to kiss me suddenly, and I liked when he touched me. I scooted over to him. He leaned into the corner of the couch, extending his powerful legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. I snuggled against his broad chest, leaning my head against his shoulder and curling my legs up next to him. He put his arm around me, hugging me tightly for a moment before relaxing his arm.
There was that pleasure he’d been talking about, those happy hormones that were giddy about my current situation and filled me with endorphins that almost made me feel like I was floating. Warmth filled all of my veins, making me melt against him. I really did love the way he smelled.
He started the movie, and I listened to the sound of him breathing, mesmerized by the way his chest went up and down. Without thinking, I put my hand on his chest, just like last night. Now his heartbeat was solid and steady. Like I could rely on him for anything. He put his hand over mine, which somehow made it infinitely better.
I felt the fingers on his other hand playing with the ends of my hair again, and I wondered if he even realized that he was doing it. We were almost like this real couple, sitting here enjoying one another’s company.
And I had that feeling of belonging again, just like I had when we’d been close together for that picture.
My eyelids felt heavy, and I let them drift shut for just a moment.
The next thing I knew, Noah was gently shaking me awake. “Hey, sleepyhead. You missed the entire movie.”
I felt warm and cozy and safe, and it was difficult to drag my eyes open. But then I did and realized where I was and what had happened.
“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” I asked, realizing that I had drooled all over this poor man and he hadn’t said a word to me. Just stayed where he was and let me sleep and soak his hoodie. I was mortified.
“It seemed like you needed to sleep.”
He was still holding me; my hand was still on his chest with his on top. His head was resting against mine so that I could feel his words against my scalp. Which made my head feel all tingly and warm.
“It’s late,” I said. “I have an appointment early tomorrow. I should get home.”
I don’t know why I said this. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to go home and go right back to sleep. I was pretty sure I’d be up for hours dissecting this entire evening. And given the overwhelming desire I had to stay right where I was, that was a signal to me that I needed some space to get my head on straight. This wasn’t supposed to be about pretending Noah Douglas was my boyfriend. This was about fixing my fear of kissing and both of us moving on with our lives. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that we could do that together.
I started to disentangle myself from him, and I could sense his reluctance to do the same, but he did.
“I’m walking you home.” He didn’t ask, but he wasn’t commanding me, either. More like it was what was going to happen even if I objected. But I wasn’t going to object. He took me by the hand again while I briefly wondered how insane my hair looked at the moment.
We went outside and the stars overhead were bright, as were the lights in the valley below us. The air was cold and biting, and I sucked in a breath.
“Cold?” he asked.
When I nodded, he released my hand and stopped to take off his hoodie. He handed it to me, and I happily put it on. It was still warm from his body heat and smelled just like him.
He was never getting this thing back. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He took my hand again, and we started walking. We didn’t say anything else, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. More like a comfortable one where we didn’t need to speak and could just . . . be together.
Then we were on Gladys’s front porch with the half moon out and the crisp, slightly pine-scented air surrounding us. He took both of my hands, holding them gently.
“Good night, Miss Nolan. Thank you for allowing me to escort you home.”
He was such a dork, and I loved it. “Good night, Mr. Douglas.” Everything felt like a perfect romantic movie moment that I didn’t want to go to waste.
“I want to try something,” I told him. I couldn’t kiss him normally without losing it, but what if . . . ? I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. His skin felt warm underneath my lips, and I stayed there, breathing him in. I could feel his surprise, his sharp intake of breath as I stood there and waited.