Page 108 of Echoes of Us

I chuckled. “No, she wasn’t. If she’s into Chase, she’s not into me,” I countered.

“I think everybody is a little into you. Holly always had a thing for you too,” he added, making me smile. “Can’t say I blame them.”

There it was again—Noah’s involuntary side smile. His lips pressed together, one corner lifting higher than the other. The edges of his green eyes crinkled, barely hinting at his smile. His whole face was soft and relaxed. It was such a barely there gesture, and it still took my breath away.

I knew my self-control was shot, because my body acted before I even registered what it was doing. I grabbed his neck and guided him towards me. He stared, his face full of astonishment as his eyes dropped to my lips. I leaned down, our foreheads touching. His lips were parted, forming a silent “oh,” and for a second, I hesitated. I tried to listen to the voice in my head telling me to think about what I was doing before ignoring it and pressing my lips to his.

So fucking soft.We both melted into it. Noah’s hands rested on my back, just holding me, not pulling me closer, just there. He rose, probably lifting on the balls of his feet. I ran my thumb over his cheek.

I drew away slightly, our lips still touching, his warm breath mingling with mine. Pain constricted in my chest from the conflicting emotions. I had just kissed Noah. This was Noah pressed against me, holding my shirt. Noah, who had shattered my heart. Noah, who I had loved and still felt was a part of me. I moved farther away.

“Damn it,” I breathed out.

Noah’s hands moved to my face, to my hair. They felt good, familiar.

“I know you didn’t want to do it, Atty, but you have no idea how happy I am that you did. I still love you so much. I know I messed up, and I’ll never stop apologizing, but I love you so, so much,” he said, not moving an inch.

His words hit me hard. I still loved him too. I couldn’t help it.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

He leaned closer, pressing his lips to mine again. I thought about pushing him back but kissed him instead, feeling the comfort of his lips, the electricity he sparked in every cell in my body. I let my hand move to the back of his neck, holding him in place a little longer. He tilted his head and parted his lips, kissing me again, and I gave in for one more moment before pulling back.

He looked up at me, surprised at the lack of contact and trying to understand what had just happened.

“I can’t do this,” I repeated.

His hands dropped to my shoulders.

I pressed my palm to his chest and pushed him back gently. I licked my lips, still feeling his touch. “I can’t do this, Noah. I can’t.” I took a step back.

“We can try.” Noah was desperate.

“No, I’m not doing this.”

I slipped from his grasp and pushed my way back inside. He called after me, but I didn’t stop until I was out of the club and in a cab on my way home.

I couldn’t do this to myself, not again. I couldn’t fall for him again.

The next morning—or really, midday—we were all in the living room, miserable for different reasons. Ezra and Chase were suffering from their hangovers after practically drinking a bottle of tequila each. I had heard them come in at dawn, and about an hour later, somebody threw up in the bathroom. Chase had left, half dying as he caught an early flight back home. Colin and I were hungover, too—not as badly as them, but still enough to make it hard to move around. Colin had picked up a girl, and she had made her walk of shame out of the apartment in yesterday’s getup.

We sat in silence while a basketball game played in the background. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting harsh light on our disheveled state. I rubbed my temples, feeling the dull throb of a hangover settle behind my eyes.

“I think we should order food,” Colin said, breaking the silence.

“I hate food,” Ezra breathed out, slumped over on the couch like a ragdoll.

“You hate tequila,” I corrected.

He looked thoroughly defeated. “I hate tequilaandfood,” he declared.

“I’m ordering,” Colin insisted.

“Why is he so happy?” Ezra asked, rubbing his temples and wincing at the light.

“He got laid,” I said.

Ezra managed a weak laugh. “Oh god, I think I made out with one of the girls from the bar. I’m not even fucking sure,” Ezra confessed, grimacing at the thought.

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