Page 24 of Echoes of Us

“That’s pretty cool.”

“What about your family, Atty?”

“What about them?”

He took another drink of his beer. “I’ve only ever heard you talk about your mom.”

“It’s pretty much just my mom and me. My parents split when I was ten. I still see him. We’re just not close,” I told him.

“How come?” he wanted to know.

“I take after him.We’re not the best communicators.”

He snorted with amusement. He pushed back on the bed, lying down and looking at the ceiling. It was surreal seeing him here.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

I shrugged. “This dorm always smells like weed. Gofor it.”

He rolled back on his front, pulled out a joint, and lit it. I hated how good he looked doing that.

“Do you want to?” he asked me.

I thought about Colin and Ezra again. It’s not like I wanted to do it. I just liked him getting closer to me when I did. I agreed. I moved closer to the bed, leaning my back on it. He handed it to me, and I took a drag, then fell into a coughing fit. He patted my back again.

“I thought it got better,” I told him.

He smirked slightly, grabbing it again and taking a drag. His hand stayed on my shoulder. If only for those touches, it would have been worth it. He took another drag and crushed the tip on an empty can. He leaned on his hand, resting his elbow on the edge of the bed, and I turned a little to face him. He was close but didn’t move or take his hand back. I drank my beer.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

His eyes were still focused, though he seemed more relaxed. I watched them running over my face, taking in every detail. His gaze was intense, almost like he was trying to read my thoughts. He moved his hand and reached for my hair, his eyes following the movement with an almost hypnotic focus. A pit formed in my stomach, and I tried to force myself not to flinch away from the contact.

He started hesitantly, almost waiting for me to pull back, and then he went from just touching it to tangling his fingers in it and keeping them there. The sensation of his fingers threading through my hair was unexpectedly soothing. It felt nice. I sighed, and his smile grew a little, warming his entire face.

“Thanks for inviting me over, Atty. I don’t usually do things like this. It’s been nice,” he said as he stroked my hair gently. His voice was softer, more intimate.

“This is what I normally do. You can come over whenever you like,” I told him.

His eyes met mine. A jolt went through me. He was so close. Noah’s eyes were beautiful. They looked like the leaves when it was turning into fall, a burnt, light green with specks of gold and brown. I had never been close enough to notice that or how his dark lashes made them look brighter in contrast.

“Do you mind that?” he asked.

“What?”

He put a little more pressure on his fingers as they moved through my hair.

“No,” I told him. What was this? What was he doing? My heart wouldn’t sit still.

“You don’t usually let people this close,” he said, his voice lower but somehow louder in the quiet room.

“You’re different,” I managed to say.

One corner of his lips pulled upwards. “Am I?”

“Yeah,” I replied as he smiled.

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