Page 160 of Under the Lies

An art thief. Wow. The more I think about it, the more I say it, the more I come to terms with it. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t have questions. I have so many.

But I don’t want to talk anymore.

With careful fingers I reach up to take Noah’s glasses off, placing them on the coffee table.

This morning I woke up so happy. So content. But all of a sudden I feel like I did my first week back. Wandering with no destination.

Until Noah.

He gave me a destination that wasn’t on any map. An off-road I don’t mind getting lost on.

But right now, I feel stuck in a ditch. I don’t want that. I want to be back on the drive.

Usually, he’s the one that feels so far away. But now his secrets are out. Oh, I’m sure he has more, but right now I don’t care about those. This time it’s me, I’m the one with the wall up.

A disconnect has been created between us and I want it gone.

My hands go to his shoulders, climbing into his lap. Straddling him.

“What’re you doing?” He’s cautious, hands going to the back of my thighs.

“I don’t want to talk anymore.” My lips find his. Tasting him, needing him.

He lets me take the lead, letting me guide…until my tongue traces his lips, seeking entrance. With a groan, Noah flips me onto the couch, covering his body with mine.

Devouring me.

This kiss feels different. Feels free.

And I lose myself in it. Lose myself in him. Sitting up, I pull off my shirt, then Noah’s.

Everything else is forgotten…at least for now.

Twenty-five.

A quarter of a century.

That’s how long I’ve been alive as of today. Somehow I thought it would feel different. More revolutionary. Ground-breaking.

Unfortunately for me, that happened a few days prior. Which I’m still trying to come to grips with.

I’ve never cared about my birthday.

Growing up it was a spectacle for my mother to plan some elaborate party that would somehow focus more on her than me.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the party she’s throwing me, I would’ve had a pretty relaxing, if not a subtle day, with me staying in bed for most of it. Pan curled on one side and a box of chocolates Thea sent over on the other.

Noah spent the morning with me although it wasn’t the kind of morning where we did a lot of talking. And after making me a breakfast of French toast and peach bellinis, he left. Saying he had some business he had to take care of.

I was left to wonder exactly what kind of work he was going to take care of.

Was it with his company or with his army? Legal or illicit?

Whatever it was, Noah made it back in time to escort me to my birthday party at my childhood home.

Which is where we are now.

“Remind me why we’re here?” I ask Noah, who glares at everything. Personally offended with what he sees.

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