Page 64 of Echoes of Us

“Tell me about it. I got used to being the fumbling idiot in the relationship.”

He giggled, got up from bed and walked over to me. He grabbed me by my hips and nudged me into the room, closing the door behind me.

“Hey, we can’t do that here,” I told him as he pushed onto his tiptoes, pulling me down by my shirt and kissing my neck.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m serious. That’s why we have separate bedrooms. Did you think my mom would let you sleep in my bed?” I asked him.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “We live alone at college. Doesn’t she know we can do that there anyway?”

“She probably does, but this is her house, her rules,” I told him.

He fell back on the bed, the mattress sighing under his weight, and glanced up at me with a pout. “That sucks. What about harmless cuddling?” he asked, smiling up at me.

“Cuddling is never harmless with you.”

He snickered. He tugged on my hand, and I fell onto the bed with him.

“Come on, I missed you.” He kissed my cheek and fit himself to me.

I turned on my side and hugged him closer, kissing him. “I missed you too. I can’t believe you’re here.” I kissed his cheek and jaw, my lips brushing against his stubble.

He sighed. He had his eyes closed, a placid smile playing on his lips. “This is so much better.”

“What is?”

His expression softened. “Being with you. It’s much better than being trapped in the ice palace.” He rolled his eyes.

The knot in my chest made a sudden appearance as I looked down at the open V of his shirt. His collarbone was more pronounced.

“How were you really, Noah?”

His smile faded. “What are you asking me?” His tone lost all the playfulness it usually held.

“You were worried about using again while you were there. Did you?”

He met my eyes levelly but didn’t say anything. I closed mine and sat back up on the bed, running my hands through my hair.Damn it.

“She has a boyfriend, Atty,” he said weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

He was frowning, looking down at his lap. “I just couldn’t be in that house with her. I went to a friend’s house, and it wasn’t a lot,” he explained.

“When?” I tried to keep my voice steady.

“The day before Christmas.”

I turned away from him again, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders.

“Atty—” His voice was pleading.

“Noah, that was the day after you got there. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“I am trying. It’s just hard, okay? It’s harder than I thought.” His hands found my hips.

“Then you do need help.”

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