Page 76 of The Girl I Once Loved

“About what?”

“I thought I left being scared behind. But really, I’ve still been hiding all these years. I’m—I’m trying to work on that.”

“I’m still trying to work on shit too,” he replies, and there is that ache again.

No words. Just us. Just this. I chant in my head, trying to ingrain it in my spine, so I don’t get too attached, so I don’t forget how much he hurt me.

But as I lay there on his chest, our hands running hungrily over each other’s bodies, I’m afraid that my heart has decided not to listen to any goddamn order I give it.

Chapter Eighteen

Noah

We’re at where we first began…The Scarlet Letter Cafe…and it feels symbolic really. The place holds some big memories for us, awkward—in the case of my blowjob escapades—and bittersweet–courtesy of what feels like a million nights spent just like this, sitting with our family, enjoying dinner. It feels like no time has passed at all as I sit across from her, playing footsie with her under the table, our family none the wiser.

Okay, maybe Daisy suspects something’s going on. It’s always been hard to get anything past that girl.

Skylar’s doing her best to pretend to ignore me, but I won’t let her. Not when I’m currently dying inside because all I want to do is spend every second of every day by her side.

She’s so hard to read. There’s moments when I’m inside of her, and I see something in her eyes, something that tells me she’s feeling this too—this thread between us that’s never faded. But then she blinks…and her emotions are hidden from me again, leaving me cold and hopeless.

One thing’s for sure though, after the past week spent touching her, loving her, breathing her in…I can’t let her go.

Skylar Ames has to forgive me. There’s no other option.

I won’t survive any other way.

She orders a salad, since there’s not really anything else on the menu that qualifies as vegan, and the server has the nerve to flirt with her. He’s a few years younger than us, but I recognize him from school. He stares at her like he’s in a trance, his gaze flicking to the way her t-shirt strains against her breasts, making me want to kill him.

Sky pushes away her chair, like she can sense I’m nearing the edge of insanity—the one where I leap across the table and stab him in the eyes with my dinner fork for lusting over what’s mine.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” she says, avoiding eye contact with me. The server stares after her longingly.

I wait about thirty seconds, and then I decide I don’t give a fuck and push away from the table too.

“Be right back,” I say with my most innocent look, trying to avoid Daisy’s questioning gaze that’s bouncing back and forth between me and where her sister’s just left the room.

I wind my way through the restaurant, but instead of taking a left into the men’s restroom…I take a right.

Sky’s standing in front of the mirror, not doing anything, and I decide it’s a good thing I followed her. She’s off in her head right now, and I can’t let that happen. Nothing good can come from her thinking too hard. Not until I have time to make up everything, to explain why I ruined us all those years ago.

I don’t let myself wonder if she’ll forgive me. Like I said…there’s no other option. I won’t stop trying until she’s forgiven me and we’re riding off to the sunset together…or whatever the equivalent looks like for me and her.

I don’t care about the end destination, I just want her.

“Noah! What are you doing here?” she hisses as I close the door to the bathroom and snap the lock into place.

“I decided I’m hungry for something else besides food,” I growl, stalking towards her. She backs away, like I’m a lion and she’s the lamb. But she should know after this past week…there’s nowhere I won’t follow her.

“Sky,” I murmur as I corner her against the wall. My voice comes out thick and heavy, because I can’t even say her name without it being blazingly, blindingly obvious that I’m in love with her.

I can’t stop looking at her. Every time I do, I see something else I’m crazy about. From the dusting of freckles that’s new since she arrived, courtesy of weeks spent under the sun. Or the flicks of dark silver in her gray gaze that I’d forgotten about. Or the way she scrunches her nose, like she’s doing now, whenever I get caught up staring at her because I’ve never seen anything more perfect than her.

I want to scream that I love her. I want to yell it from the rooftops. Hell, I’ll even take whispering it in her ear.

But I can’t yet. Because she’s not ready. My secret is hovering between us, just waiting to be uncovered.

And I’m the wimp who just hasn’t found the courage to let that secret out yet.

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