Page 121 of After All This Time

The butterflies are back, swarming my stomach so much it’s almost painful. A pain that I don’t mind suffering through if it’s because of Noah.

“I haven’t seen the guys because I’d rather spend time with you. They’re tired of me talking about you all the time.”

He’s been talking to Grayson and Xander about me. Oh my God.

He stares into my eyes. “Those romance books I have in my room, they remind me of you. I thought you hated me, but I’d buy them and read them anyway. It felt like I was there with you.”

I stare at him.

I’ve never been so hypnotized by this man until this very moment.

“I felt closer to you through the books you read,” he breathes.

Oh, fuck.

“You’ve been talking to the guys about me?” I hiccup.

My eyes are glassy. I can feel the tears that are begging to be released.

“That’s what you got out of this whole thing? Me talking about you to my friends?” He grins, turning into a smile.

I lean my head into his chest for a brief moment as air comes out of my nose.

“Remember how much of an asshole I was to you in sophomore year? When I said all those horrible things to you on the day of the one-year anniversary of your dad’s passing?”

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“After you stormed away from me, I felt so fucking bad. I knew I had to do something to make it up to you.”

“What did you have to do?”

“My dad wasn’t the one to send you the box.”

“What box?”

“The box.”

What box is he even talking about? The box. Wait…Oh. My. God.

I remember coming home from school the day after Noah blew up at me. There was a cardboard box sitting on my bed with a note taped onto it.

Hey Dani,

Noah’s really sorry for what he said to you at school today. It was completely inappropriate and heartless. Don’t worry, he’s in trouble. Big trouble. I hope the items in here make you feel something. I’m always here for you. Always.

Love, Ben.

“It was you.”

He nods. “It was me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I told my dad to write out the note and plaster his name on it because I knew you would’ve thrown the box out. Set it on fire. Stomp on it. I knew you wouldn’t have opened if my name was on the note.”

I chuckle. “I still use that journal to write down book ideas. Well, pretty much anything that has to do with my books. The mini Kit Kats were a nice touch by the way.” I wink at him. “You know, my addiction to Kit Kats started because of my dad. He used to buy the regular-sized ones all the time. Mom hated having that shit in the house, but Dad didn’t care because they made me happy.”

You make me happy.

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