“Are you?”
He had a point. It was about two hours until we were due to leave, as I had just found out, and chances were I’d remember something I’d forgotten to pack. Which was stupid, I knew, because I’d be back home every couple of days to help look after Brad, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t pick anything up, but—
“Aw, crap.” I smacked a palm against my forehead. “I didn’t pack any bras.”
Noah shot me a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Keep it in your pants, you. You’ve got packing to do.”
We sat quietly for a minute while Noah pulled a shirt out of his closet to fold and I went through a mental checklist of what else I might have forgotten to pack.
“You know,” he said with that suspicious, too-blasé tone that made it obvious he was ready to talk about something kind of serious, “I know this isn’t perfect because we’re selling the beach house, but I think this could be good for us. For me and you, I mean. Kind of like a…test ‘living together’ thing.”
I stared at him as he refolded his shirt for the third time.
“Living together…like a couple.”
“Why not, huh? We got through long-distance last year, right? So this should be a breeze.”
“A breeze,” I repeated. Long-distance hadn’t exactly been what I’d call a breeze. We’d broken up once. And it wasn’t like everything had been just peachy after that. It had been better, and good, but it hadn’t been easy.
I didn’t see how living together could be any harder, though.
And I couldn’t deny that my heart gave a little flutter at the idea.
“You’d really wanna live with me? At Harvard?”
“Well, I was thinking about it.” Noah sighed, finally looking at me. He was kind of shifty, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. When we’d first gotten together, he’d been totally awful at any kind of emotional conversation, but he’d become more comfortable with it in the time I’d known him—and, more noticeably, since he’d gone to college. This, apparently, was not one of the conversations he was comfortable with. “Obviously you’ll be in freshman dorms this year, but maybe…you know, if we stuck around in the summer for internships or maybe in your sophomore year…just, you know. You’ll be at Harvard. I’ll be at Harvard. We’ve already been together over a year. It’s not like it’d be…I mean, there were kids in my class sophomore year of high school who got married after being together for a month.”
“Have you been thinking about marrying me, Noah Flynn?” I teased, unable to help myself, reveling in the blush that colored his cheeks and feeling only a little bad about the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“It’s not like we’d be moving that quick. Unless you think we would. I…I just thought, you know, we could…save on rent.”
“So your decision for us to maybe move in together next year is based on…financial acumen.”
He met my gaze long enough to see me grinning at him, biting my tongue, and nodded gravely. “A hundred percent.”
He tossed aside the pile of underwear he’d just grabbed out of his drawer to kneel on the bed, his body stretching toward me. His bright blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and I could see the dimple in his left cheek I thought was so goddamn adorable.
“Elle Evans, I’m in love with you. And I would love to live with you in Boston next year.”
A quiet hum escaped my lips and I leaned toward him, too. “Say that again.”
“I’m in love with you.”
“Yeah, you are.” I grabbed his face, pulling his lips toward mine. I could taste the coffee on them he’d been drinking when I arrived, and I kissed him deeper, my fingers threading through his hair.
I leaned back and Noah moved with me, falling on top of me and just about catching his weight on one elbow, chuckling as his head shifted so he could kiss my neck.
“I thought you said I had packing to do?” he murmured against my skin.
I laughed, dragging his mouth back to mine. “Shut up.”
* * *
• • •
“Don’t forget to pack these,” I said, grabbing the pair of Superman underwear from the pile Noah had dumped on the bed earlier and throwing them at him. He caught them deftly in one hand just before they hit him in the face.
One day, I might stop finding it hilarious that badass Noah Flynn wore Superman undies, but that day wasn’t coming up anytime soon.
“Okay, so I’m gonna run back home to pick up some bras and then come back here so we can leave on time. I swear. Hand on heart.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hey, don’t forget this one.”
He picked my bra up off the floor to toss at me.
“Shoot. Thanks. And don’t you guys dare go without me.”
“Elle, you’re driving. And Lee won’t have room because he’s picking up Rachel, so I couldn’t leave without you even if I wanted to.”
He had a point, but we were still on a schedule—mainly enforced by Rachel. I gave him a brief kiss before hurrying home, where I shoved a handful of bras into my purse, relieved that my dad had taken Brad to a movie so I didn’t have to say goodbye again.
Back at Lee and Noah’s, I found them packing up the cars. Noah was loading our bags into the trunk of my beat-up old Ford. I joined him there, moving my stash of bras from my purse to my suitcase and pointedly ignoring the way they raised their eyebrows at each other.
“Told you she’d be late,” Lee said.
“I’m not late,” I objected. “You guys are just early.”
Lee’s phone pinged with a text and he waved his phone in our direction. “That’s Rachel, wondering if I’m on my way yet. You sure you’ve got everything this time, Shelly?”
“Uh, pretty sure,” I said, going back through my mental checklist. Wait—did I pack conditioner?
Lee must’ve known what I was doing, because he got quickly into his car and leaned out the window to say “We’ll see you guys there, yeah?”
“See ya,” we both called.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Noah asked as we got into my car.
“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad! And you just have to ignore that sputtering sound when I turn the engine on.” I patted the dash affectionately and started the car, not missing Noah’s uneasy grimace when the engine gave its trademark sputter.