Page 123 of Wanted You More

He walks in and kisses my temple. “Hard to believe you’re going back. I had the dealership check over the car after they changed the oil. It’s all set and shouldn’t give you any issues.”

“Thank you for getting it seen. I know I was supposed to do it earlier this summer.”

“What are dads for?”

I smile, glancing down at the shirt on my bed before sighing. “Can I ask you something?”

There’s an arch to his brows as he sits down, helping me fold some of my clothes. When he sees the grip I have on the large black shirt, he slowly nods. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“I’d normally ask one of my friends about this, but they’re busy with their own stuff. And you’d probably be able to tell me how it is more than them because they’d only tell me what I want to hear.”

Dad blinks. “Is this about Noah?”

Frowning, I nod as I stare at the article of clothing. “I get this weird feeling that he doesn’t want to be seen with me around certain people. Like at work. He doesn’t hesitate when he’s around you or his family, but he pulled away when I brought him lunch and it’s messed with me.”

He gives me the logical question. “Did you talk to him about it?”

“Well…no.”

A soft smile lifts the corners of his mouth as if he expected the answer. “I know you, Austen. You’re going to assume the worst if you don’t ask. Has he given you any other reason to think something is wrong?”

I don’t doubt that he loves me. We talk every day, but not as much. Sometimes I’ll overthink the lack of emojis he uses in a text message like the pathetic girl I am. I mean, Noah rarely ever uses them. Why should I fixate on something so stupid? There are other things too. Little things. Lately, it’s taken him longer to get back, and I know it has to do with how much he’s got on his plate. He’s stressed. He’s told me as much. Maybe if he hadn’t pulled back, I wouldn’t be so hyper-focused on it now.

But I am.

“No, I guess not. We’re supposed to have dinner tonight before I head back to campus.” I haven’t heard from him since this morning, so I’m not sure if those plans are still on.

Bailey’s mother’s funeral is today, which he attended for moral support. I haven’t reached out since I knew he’d be there with her and her family. I figure giving him space will show that I’m cool, calm, and collected about him being around his ex.

“As much as I wish you weren’t old enough to date, I think you chose well with the person you’re seeing. Noah is a good man, from a good family.”

I know that means a lot coming from Dad, who’s had his reservations about the Kingsleys simply because of our shared history.

It seems like time has healed a lot.

“Thanks,” I tell him quietly, folding up the shirt and setting it aside. It’s one of Noah’s favorites, which is why I took it. I know he feels its absence, but he’s never asked me for it back, which I give him credit for.

Dad says, “He loves you.”

Those three words swell my chest. They aren’t foreign to me or ones I struggle to believe. Noah wouldn’t touch me, wouldn’t so much as let a move be made, until he accepted that himself.

But love and sex are exclusive things. I’ve had plenty of one without the other long before Noah truly gave me a chance.

The anxiety I felt before intensifies when I start wondering how true that is. Because if I had him, wouldn’t I have him everywhere we go?

Swallowing, I nod. “I know he does.”

An hour and a half later, I’m putting the last of my bags in the car, hugging Dad and Wolfe goodbye, and climbing in to go to Noah’s place when I get a text from the man himself.

Noah:I’m sorry, but I can’t make it tonight. Something came up

The thick tension balled into my chest moves its way up to cram in my throat. Instead of letting my family see that, I wave them off as if the plans never changed and back out of the driveway and toward campus without a clue as to what, orwho, is preventing me from being with him on my last night of freedom before the new semester begins.

I pop two pills into my mouth on the drive to school, swallowing them in hopes they’ll ease the shake in my hands. To still them, I tighten my fingers around the wheel and pray that the medication kicks in soon.

Because I hate feeling this way.

Damaged.

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