Page 60 of When in Rome

I nod quietly then and hold on until his feet make purchase with the sandy bank, giving him the support he needs to hold me without treading water. The sunshine combined with Noah’s gaze sweeping over my skin is scorching. He pulls me tightly against his body and I hold on tighter around his neck. It’s heaven and torture rolled into one. His mouth hovers over mine, his breath whispering promises against my lips. I adjust impatiently and press my fingers into the heavy slopes of his shoulders because he won’t kiss me yet and I’m feeling greedy. His smile is soft and taunting as he clearly enjoys drawing this out—proving that he doesn’t just show restraint with his words, he shows it with his body.

I, however, have no restraint because it’s been too long since we kissed. I’m also not sure I’ve ever been kissed or held like this by a man I liked this much. I cinch my legs tightly around his torso, making him grunt a laugh. I angle my face for the optimal kiss.Ifyou’re going to do it, do it.His eyes turn absolutely black now. One of his hands splays out against my back and the other moves up to grasp the side of my jaw. His hold is as possessive as mine.

I hold my breath as his lips close the gap and press into mine.Bliss. Wonder. Magic.The soft scratch of his facial hair is a match strike against my senses. Tactile evidence that he’s real and his skin is colliding with mine. My heart kicks frantically against my ribs, and my skin is set ablaze with pleasure and desire. As if it’s possible, I hold him tighter. His hands press into my back, my hips, my thighs. Not frantic, but measured and intentional—just likeNoah.Our mouths explore this new intimacy in unhurried caresses. His tongue teases my lips and I surrender willingly. I make a soft noise that lands somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and it spurs his hands into a more thorough exploration, sending a tingle through every part of me. We find that unique rhythm of kissing that feels like surrendering to a riptide. It’s dangerous and there’s nothing to do but let it build and carry you wherever it wants.

He tilts his head and I match his angle. I retreat and he follows. He retreats and I follow. His touch brands me, carves his name everywhere, and I hold on to him like letting go would mean certain death. Kissing Noah is more than I bargained for. It’s more than I could have hoped—and it convinces me of something that it shouldn’t: we’re good together.

His wonderful calloused hands slide up the soft skin of my back as he lifts my shirt off my body and I raise my hands in the air to aid him. I’m wearing a simple, cotton, navy bralette, and although I’ve always felt insecure about the small size of my chest, Noah looks at me as if I hold the keys to the world. As if I am so precious and desirable that he is afraid to touchme.

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, while kissing me softly down the line of my throat and over my collarbones. He trembles as he holds me and I don’t think it’s because he’s getting tired. And suddenly, this all feels too much. I let go. One of us needs to be thinkingstraight, and now I’m angry it has to be me. But I won’t let this get too carried away and turn into something that even remotely resembles heartache in the end. A kiss is one thing—butmoreis off the table.

When our mouths separate, I take in his rugged face and swollen lips. I trace the line of his strong jaw and neck and collarbones with my finger. He must see the pain in my face—the turmoil boiling below my skin—because the delicious bite of his fingers softens. His hold on me loosens and he pinches his eyes shut, breathing deeply before opening them. “This was not a good idea, was it?” His eyes linger over my mouth again like he’s a fraction of a second away from continuing what we started. The look in his eyes says he would carry me up on that bank and make love to me here and now if I gave him the okay.

I swim backward to put some distance between us, dragging my shirt with me. “It was a very good idea—but now we have to forget it.”Again.

He nods and watches as I wring my shirt out and wrangle it back over my head.

Scraping both his hands through his hair, he stands a little higher in the water to where I’m privileged with the sight of his chest, abs, and sinewy flesh all expanding and shifting with the motion. His ribs push against his skin and water beads over his taut body and I’m afraid my tongue is hanging out the side of my mouth. I’m the overheated emoji. Face red and panting.

We both take a few minutes to settle ourselves and then dry off in the sun while finally doing the thing we came here to do: fish. But guess what? Fishing is boring, and it turns out I’d much rather be making out with Noah. Which is why I need to get away from him for a bit. I look over my shoulder at Noah, opening my mouth to ask him if he could take me back home where I’ll plan to lock myself in my room for the rest of the day, but he says something first.

“I have someone I need to go meet. But…I was hoping you’d come withme?”

That is the opposite of space. The opposite of forgetting. And definitely the opposite of locking myself in my room.

And yet…

“Yes!” I say immediately.

Chapter 28

Amelia

Noah pulls into the parking lot of an assisted-living home and cuts the engine. His face is full of worry, and if I had to guess, he might be regretting his choice to bring me here.

I look toward the long one-story building and back to Noah. “Who are we visiting?”

After our little lake adventure, Noah took me home so we could both quickly change and hop back in the truck. I took a little longer than anticipated, though, because while brushing out my tangled, wet hair, a new song lyric popped in my head. It’s been months and months since I’ve felt musically inspired, so after running to my room and quickly typing out the verse in a note on my phone, I fell back on the bed and laughed like you do when joy is just too much to contain. I wanted to call my mom and tell her since she used to be the first person I’d share songs with, but we haven’t had that kind of relationship in years. It would be too awkward and out of the blue to call and tell her I felt my first creative spark in a while, so I just kept it to myself instead.

Now, in the truck, Noah takes off the hat he’s been wearing all day and sets it aside. “My grandma.”

“Your—” I’m stunned. My head is reeling. I thought Noah’s grandma had already passed away based on the way he talks about her. “The grandma who raised you?”

He nods, weary eyes darting to the assisted-living entrance and back to me. “I know you thought she had already died, and I let you believe that, because honestly, it’s just easier than launching into everything. And I can’t stand it when I tell people and then they startawwing like I’m some saint or they give me these pity eyes for having to take care of my grandmother. So now when I meet someone new, I don’t tell them. Or at least…not until I can fully trust them.”

My mind grabs on to that last sentence like a support bar on a subway. “And you trust me now?”

He smiles and nods again. “I do. And if you’re up for it, I want you to meet her. But…she’s not the grandma that raised me anymore. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s three years ago. That’s when my sisters and I moved her into this assisted-living home. It was such a difficult decision, but she’s so much safer here, and they have incredible care for Alzheimer’s patients.”

The last of the puzzle pieces snap together. “Your grandma is why you came home from New York?”

“Yeah. Her memory started getting really bad the year I was gone, and my sisters would call me almost daily saying how worried they were. Grandma would drive to the market and not remember how she got there or how to get home. Luckily, everyone in the town knows and loves her, so she was usually safe. But it was getting pretty scary. And after Emily took her to the doctor and had a confirmed diagnosis, I couldn’t stay away any longer.” He frowns, looking like his mind dipped back to a place that he tries to avoid. “Merritt—my ex-fiancée…” He clarifies as if I actually needed for him to remind me even though I already carved her name on myhate, hate, hatelist. “She couldn’t understand why I needed to move home. She thought I should let my sistershandleher and live myown life.” He scoffs. “I still can’t believe she used that word. So demeaning. Like the woman who sacrificed her life, to raise and love me after my parents died, deserved to be reduced to beinghandled.” His hands clench into fists.

At a loss for words, I put my hand on his and squeeze. Noah looks down at it, and his fist relaxes. I can see the moment he lets go of some of that pain. “Anyway, it was for the best. Merritt wasn’t right for me in the end. Not even in the beginning if I’m being honest.”

There’s more to that story. I remember Jeanine at the diner saying Noah was cheated on, but I’m not going to bring that up now. Feels like a bit much. “Thanks for telling me,” I say, genuinely meaning it. “So this is who you come to have lunch with so often?”

“Yeah. My sisters and I rotate so she has someone here almost every day. And Mabel comes most evenings. In the summer it’s a pretty even schedule, but when school starts back, Emily and Madison can’t get out here in the afternoons, so Annie and I come more often.” He nods toward the facility. “The staff is incredible to my grandma. But…we still want to make sure she’s okay. That she’s not lonely.”

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