Page 98 of Your Fault

“Now what am I supposed to do?” I asked, leaning on my forearms to keep from crushing her. Her hand climbed to my face and stroked my hair.

“Leave and show my masterpiece to the world,” she answered with mischievous glee on her face. I pushed my thighs into her, feeling her so fragile beneath me, so small, so perfect… I felt the urge to cry when I realized these moments weren’t going to come as often as I wished now. I had to let her go, had to let her live on campus surrounded by a bunch of dickheads who would be fighting to get her attention. Neither those kisses nor anything she could tell me were enough to make me believe no one would ever steal her from me.

Losing her…just the thought of it hurt me inside, scared me. The feeling weighing on my chest was terrifying, like two giants sitting on my heart. Ever since my mother had left, I had kept that feeling stuffed away, closing myself off from everyone else. I’d told myself I would never feel that again…but now I was so vulnerable, so exposed with that beautiful girl who could have crushed my heart to dust if she’d wanted to.

I looked down at what she’d written on my wrist, and a warm, gentle tingle ran over my body. I was hers… She had written that on my very skin, and I realized nothing would make me happier than belonging to her, body and soul.

I knew she’d seen the darkness in me, my weakness, my irrational desire to clutch her close, to keep her within reach at all times. I couldn’t help it—I couldn’t help my feelings or the way my love for her kept growing with every second.

“I’m going to let you go…for now…” I said when I saw her blink with surprise. “But you know, Freckles, this can’t last. When I want something…I get it, and I don’t care who I have to get through to do it.”

She half closed her eyes as she shifted beneath me. “So what if you have to get through me?”

Her question distracted me for a moment.

“You’re in my heart, babe. I think I’ve already gone through you.”

She smiled, and I sat up in bed, getting ready to dress.

“You’re not going to shower?” she asked as I pulled a T-shirt over my head.

“Are you hinting at something? Do I smell bad?” I said, grinning and looking down as I tied my shoes.

Noah was still wearing one of my T-shirts, and her hair was sticking out in every direction. We were always late, and I didn’t understand why she didn’t take the opportunity to get dressed when I was doing the same. Instead, she was sitting there on my bed giving me a goofy stare.

“I figured you’d want to run and wash off my Monet,” she said.

I smiled and stood in front of her at the foot of the bed. Her foot was lolling on the white sheet, perfect like every part of her.

“I’m happy to wear this artwork of yours, Freckles; it bears your signature. It’ll stick around until it fades away.” I stretched out a hand and grabbed her foot, pressing it into my chest and massaging her ankle. “Honestly,” I went on, lifting my shirt and pointing to one of my obliques, “I think this elephant right here gives me a sort of interesting macho air.”

She stared at my bare skin, and I smirked, pulling on her ankle until she was almost falling off the bed and her shirt had slid up to reveal the bottoms of her breasts. Her firm flat stomach was there for me to see, along with that lace underwear that could give me a heart attack.

“You see something you like?” I asked, bending over and kissing her belly button tenderly.

She closed her eyes for a moment. How could she smell so fucking good?

“You,” she responded simply.

But there was no time for that. I grinned and let her wrap her legs around my back. I needed to get her out of that room. I walked down the hall and into the kitchen, smiling as I deposited her on the counter. She frowned as she felt the cold marble on her skin. I left her there and started taking food out of the fridge to make breakfast. I could tell she was watching my every move.

I made a fruit salad, juiced some oranges, and whipped the eggs before scrambling them.

“Can I help you?” she asked, but I refused.

“Let me make you breakfast one last time,” I responded with an unavoidable slight scowl. She shrugged and said nothing.

When everything was ready on the island in the kitchen, I grabbed her again and sat her in my lap. She wrapped her arm around my neck and played with my hair, and I fed her, lost in thought. As she ate, she, too, seemed distracted, her mind probably racing.

I knew that however much the two of us tried to put on a happy face, what had happened the night before was still there with us, inhabiting the apartment like a ghost. Nervously, I pushed her head back and kissed her, savoring the delicious taste of freshly squeezed oranges on her lips.

She was surprised by this sudden fit of passion, but evidently it pleased her. Her tongue wrapped around mine as I jerked her into me.

When I pulled away, my forehead was still touching hers, and our eyes locked. That shade of honey in her irises made me melt, and I felt the irrational urge to shut her up in my bedroom and never let her go.

“I love you, Noah… Don’t you ever forget that.”

Her eyes shone with unbelievable brightness while her fingers stroked my cheeks and lower lip. She seemed to be lostin thought. She started to lower her hand, but I stopped her and brought it to my lips. I kissed every knuckle carefully and then let her finish eating.

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