Page 115 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
“Yeah.” Even if I can’t fully explain why. In my world, we might not have been on many dates, but I feel, in my bones, like I know her—and I know she wouldn’t tell fantastical tales. I have to believe her, especially with those feelings of déjà vu.
And if I go back to last year, there were a few instances when I felt like I was missing someone without knowing who she was. That must have been Noelle, who would have been stuck in the loop then. Some other version of me would have already met her.
“Does it bother you,” she says, “that you can’t remember what I remember?”
“I wish it were otherwise, but I can manage.”
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t lived through it myself, and I still don’t like that I can’t fully understand how it happened.”
“That’s okay. Some things you can’t fully explain.” Like when a note in a song makes you cry, and it feels like magic. “That’s just the way it is. I think love often has some element of that.”
While I didn’t say that I love her, I still used the L-word. It’s a scary word for some people. Perhaps I shouldn’t even be thinking it when we’ve only been on a handful of dates. Except it’s actually dozens of dates, even if I can’t remember them, and maybe that explains my feelings.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” I set my coffee down and pull her into my lap. “Are you actually an alien princess from another galaxy?”
“You really believe me.” It’s not a question this time, but there’s wonder in her voice.
I don’t have any more words to assure her, so I tighten my arms around her and nuzzle the crook of her neck. More than ever before, it feels like a miracle that she’shere. With me.
She’s the one who begins the kiss, her lips moving urgently over mine.
“Cam,” she says.
Nothing more, just my name, and I think of all the times I must have introduced myself to her, unaware that she already knew who I was. It’s remarkable and ridiculous, all at the same time.
But the fact that I was still able to subconsciously recall things like her taste in beer? It’s like some part of me was trying, desperately, to hold on to the memory of her.
Maybe because, as I thought before, we really do just fit.
I take her to the bedroom, where I strip off her shirt and her bra. I grin when I look down at her, topless below me.
“Cam,” she says again, with more desperation in her voice.
She didn’t have to tell me, but I’m glad she did. I know sharing something like that takes a lot of guts, and she might not see herself as gutsy, but I do.
I dip my head and take one of her nipples in my mouth, and then I begin working at the button and zipper on her jeans.
“I need you,” she says.
“I know, sweetheart.” As I say those words, I feel like I know it in more than the here and now; I know it deep in my bones.
When I slide two fingers inside her, she arches against me and moans. I tug off the rest of her clothes, and then I set my mouth on her. I’ve been dreaming of tasting her again since Monday; I’ve thought about it far too much when I was in my office at work.
I lift my head. “Did we ever have sex in my office?”
“Once. The first time.”
I grin. “Was it hot?”
“Yeah. It was… ahhhh.” She groans as I lick her clit.
I love that her noises aren’t shy and tentative. I smile against her before I cup her ass and get down to business. Within a few minutes, she’s gripping and twisting the sheets, and I know she’s getting close.
I shuck off my clothes and roll on a condom. She pushes me onto my back, then lowers herself onto me in one smooth move. I hiss out a breath and look up at her, gorgeous and riding my cock.
I still don’t understand how I could ever forget this. Even if it was some other version of me who experienced it, I don’t understand.
But it doesn’t matter. I have her now.
