Page 71 of Falling for Fury

“You know, my mom used to have bad thoughts.” He gives me a knowing look, and my face drops. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but snap it closed as he continues. “My dad… he died about eight years ago. But they were in real-love.” He says it in a way that makes me jealous. That it is the kind of love out of reach for us. Like everyone else in the world has no idea what that is. “The kind they write movies and romance novels about. He’d get up every single morning to make her a cup of tea—yes, tea, not coffee. She was super into gardening and her flower beds were luscious as all heck, and yet he bought her a bunch of flowers every Sunday.” His eyes go vacant as though he is back there, watching his parents. He slides back against the headboard, sitting up more and pulling me with him. “Every time he got her flowers, she would have this look on her face, like he was the first man to ever buy her something. She would make him his favorite desserts, and he would tell her there was nothing that made his heart sing like her cooking.” He pauses and I wait for him, feeling his body shiver as he tries to compose himself, his hold on me growing tighter. “I think… I think when he died, a piece of her died, too. Of course, me and my sister were devastated, but I think the love my mom lost when she lost dad was like losing a physical part of her heart, like losing her soul.” He runs a hand down my arm and shivers cross my body as I try to blink back tears. “The two-ish years after he died were the hardest. My sister had walked in on her with some pills and she had to be rushed to the hospital.” Oh god. I tilt my head to look up at him and the battle against my tears is lost as I see the single tear falling down his cheek. He stares up at the ceiling as if he is back there, and I just… I need to take away his pain. I bring my hand to his check and pull his face to mine. He squeezes his eyes closed as I press a soft kiss to his lips. He lingers in the kiss, like a lifeline, his arm tightening to pull me against him. I release him and look at him, nodding to continue.

“I felt… I felt lost. I had my own grief, my little sister shut down on herself, too, and then there was mom. She didn’t want to stay here with us. Hell, I guess I didn’t either. But that feeling. Being helpless and having no idea how to help it sent me into a tailspin. Mom’s medical bills ate up a lot of our spare funds. Dad did well for himself, but he wasn’t saving for us when he died. He hadn’t made a plan because no one expected it. I knew I needed to be the one to do it. So I left. I let my grief get to me, I avoided them because I thought every time I saw them and spoke to them it would just be a reminder of my responsibility, a reminder that Dad was gone and that Mom tried to leave, too. I didn’t know staying away just hurt them more. I thought… I somehow thought it would just be better. Over the years, we still spoke, of course, and saw each other, but we just pretended like I didn’t bail, and I think it put a distance between us. I’m still trying to repair that distance, but… I don’t know how. I wanted to fix Mom, to fix Evie, and make sure that… well, that they didn’t actually leave me, too.”

My heart breaks into a thousand pieces for him. I know pressure, but I can’t imagine being shouldered with so much and so quickly, having no idea how to process any of it. I can certainly understand wanting to escape.

I know he wants to help. His heart is huge, and I know how he hates when I’m in pain. How do I explain to him that his mom, me, we don’t need fixing, that he doesn’t have to worry about me leaving him, not like that. That this is who we are, and sometimes just being there, being consistent, has to be enough.

“I think she eventually realized that my sister was still here and still needed her. She started seeing a therapist regularly, still does every other week. She told me about her love with Dad, and… and I think it was the first time I truly understood how she thought death was easier than living without him, it was why I told myself I’d never love, never have someone need me like that, or never risk losing my heart like that, too.”

“What changed?” He looks down at me, eyes nailing me with all the vulnerability he is trying to rope back in.

“I met you.” My heart lurches, and I struggle to hold back my tears.

Holding his gaze, I urge him to continue. For all the pain he feels, I can tell talking about it is helping. “Tell me what she said about love,” I whisper.

“She said the way he loved her was like standing on the edge of a cliff, the thrill of almost falling, but also like the weightlessness and the pressure of the deepest parts of the ocean. Feeling your skin burn, your heart beating in time with theirs, like your souls are joined by a piece of string. Losing him was like slicing through flesh, through every sensitive nerve, and leaving the endings open to the wind. The agony she felt went so deep it ached in every bone, in every muscle. Being in agonizing pain, while also being completely numb to everything around you.”

“You Greeks really have a way with words.” He swipes a thumb under my eye, his face softening into a small smile, and he huffs a small laugh.

“Addison?”

“Hmm?” I am so beyond words at this point.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, about your experiences. But I want you to know I’ll always listen. And when you feel like it’s too much, I’ll always be there to pull you out. I just want you to know you can always come back to me. You can’t scare me away.” Tears break through my self-control as I pull myself out of his arms, turning to straddle his lap, and his hands link behind my back. The position feels practiced, like I belong here.

“I… I don’t know what triggered it. I have had this imbalance for as long as I can remember, but it kind of peaked not long after I graduated high school.”

“When you traveled?” he questions, and I nod softly, not making eye contact. His fingers tip my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. So much strength and encouragement pouring from him.

“It just sort of springs on me out of nowhere, the deep ache of being numb. The sense of defeat that tells me I just can’t do this anymore, this life. That it isn’t worth it.” His eyes change to an urgency and the pressure on my back increases. “Sometimes it comes in waves with panic attacks. Sometimes it hits me in a silence that catches me so off guard it scares the crap out of me. Like that night you found Jake in the hallway.” I tell him about my breakup with Jake, gory details and all, about the night after I was fired and giving him context, where the bath is concerned. I watch as he blinks back his rage and his tears, fighting for how to feel.

“Addy.” He reaches up and drags me to his chest, holding me as I nuzzle his neck.

“Don’t even get me started on my rage.”

His chuckle vibrates my chest. “I think I’ve seen enough of that to last me a lifetime.” Humor coats his words.

He reaches a finger up and bops me on the nose as I sit up and I swat his hand away. “Ugh, what was that for?”

“Your scowl is adorable. You went from seductress to emotional, to shy, to angry in the space of about ten minutes, and I am just… awed by you. There are so many layers to you, and I love every single one of them.” My expression softens as I roll my eyes and pretend not to be affected by his words.

I hold his eyes and his face changes, almost a smile, but it isn’t condescending or arrogant, it’s… is he turned on right now? My own smile grows and I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His face doesn’t change as he responds.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re ready to fuck me?” I give him a bigger smile, biting my bottom lip. The heat in his eyes already causing a pool in my lower belly. How did we go from depression and crying to this? He laughs and pulls me forward against him again, leaning his chin to the top of my head as I snuggle into his chest. “Oh, Addison… I don’t think I’ll ever not want to fuck you.”

“But…?”

“But right now… I just want to hold you.” He kisses the top of my head, and my heart grows two sizes as I take a deep breath and inhale the spring scent of him.

“For what it’s worth, I think your rage is sexy as hell. I wouldn’t change a thing.” He releases a deep sigh as I feel his body relax, but not before he dips a finger under my chin, tilting my head as he lowers his, bringing his lips to gently brush mine. “I want you to know that this world needs you Addy. I need you.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond as he presses his lips to mine in a gentle, lingering kiss. But I can’t take it anymore, I lean into it further, teasing his lips with my tongue to deepen the kiss. His lips part without hesitation, and the taste of him sweeps through me, increasing my desire, his hands moving to grip my ass and grind me down. “Addy.”

“I know,” I breathe into him, his desire now matching mine as our hands frantically search each other. The electricity between us sparks to life, the air thick with longing. Like a link, a string to my soul, that he just took for himself. He abruptly pulls back from the kiss and searches my eyes.

“I love you, Addison. Completely.” My control snaps and I kiss him desperately, reaching down to remove my underwear. Noah helps and his boxers shortly follow. He wraps his hands around my waist, and before I know what is happening, he has flipped me under him, giving me whiplash from the pace at which our desire has jumped. He hovers above me, trailing kisses down my neck to my breasts, and he draws my sensitive nipples into his mouth. He kisses his way back up to find my lips, his fingers sliding through the slit of my sex, eliciting a wave of pleasure through my body. “Always ready for me.” He slides a finger in slowly, so deliciously and painfully slow, as he continues his work on my neck, my legs wrapping around his hips.

“I need you, Noah. Now.”

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