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“I’m not leaving, Rory,” he says, his voice quiet, but firm.

“Okay,” I tell him, my eyes wide afraid to anger him further. He’s so forceful, so raw right now. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I’m not leaving and we’re not over,” he says, his head bending in close.

“Noah, I don’t—”

“I fucked up,” he says and I close my eyes, because his eyes seem to brighten and are like molten chocolate they are so intense. I have to block them out. “I warned you I had shit I was working through, Rory,” he says just as quietly, his breath fanning against the side of my face.

“You did, but to get mad because I knew…your name. We’re having sex with each other, I don’t understand—”

“Open your eyes, Gorgeous,” he orders, but I don’t. I’m not strong enough. His other hand moves to my hair, his fingers thrusting into it and tangling in the mass of waves. “Open your eyes, Rory,” he orders again.

I do slowly, feeling lost.

“We’re not having sex, Rory,” he says again and I nod—as much as I can because his hold has me pinned and it might not be painful, but it’s meant to make sure I don’t move.

“Okay.”

“We’re not having sex, Rory,” he says again.

“I heard you, Noah.”

“You need to understand it,” he says and I swallow.

“What are we doing then?” I ask him.

He studies me then, moving back just a little, taking me in. I can’t move and even if I could… I wouldn’t.

“We’re doing us,” he says and that doesn’t make sense, while at the same time it does.

“What happens the next time you—”

“I made a mistake, Rory. I straight up admit that. I got shit swirling in my head and sometimes that comes out and it oozes before I can cap it down. I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“Then, I—”

“I can promise that when it does, I’ll talk with you. I’ll do it gently and I’ll fight through it.”

“What if that’s not enough?” I ask quietly and I’m pretty sure I’m talking to myself this time, but Noah answers.

“It will be enough, because it’s us and it’s who we are.”

“I’m not sure, Noah.”

“I am,” he says and I close my eyes.

“Don’t hurt me, Noah,” I whisper.

“Give me your eyes, Gorgeous,” he urges, his voice softer—almost tender. I try to ignore him, but Noah brings out the big guns. He bends down and kisses the side of my neck, placing his lips right at my pulse point. I know he can feel the way it goes haywire at his touch. There’s nothing I can do to hide it. “Give me those eyes, Baby.” I slowly open them. “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again, Rory,” he says, giving me honesty that is painful to accept.

“I—”

“What I can promise is that you give me you, I give you me and whatever comes, we’ll work it out and I’ll cherish what you give me.”

My heart turns a somersault in my chest.

…I’ll cherish what you give me.

Noah’s complicated—beyond complicated. I don’t understand so much about him, but these last two days have been miserable. I’ve even admitted to myself that I love him. I’ve never loved anyone, except my brother but I was young, and that was before…

Then, there’s those words. The words still ringing inside of me.

...I’ll cherish what you give me.

I’ve never had anyone say those words to me before. I sure have never had anyone cherish me… or heck, even put forth a good effort. He’s working through things, but he missed me and he wasted no time calling me—even though I refused to answer and didn’t check my voicemail on purpose. The minute I got home he came to me and admitted he messed up. That has to count for something. There’s a chance that I’m fooling myself, because it’s what I want. There’s also a chance that I’m right and I am safe with Noah.

…I’ll cherish what you give me.

I take a deep breath, feeling like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.

“Rory?” he asks, and finally he’s the one sounding unsure of himself.

“I missed you, Noah,” I whisper. My eyes find his and I look into them as I say the words.

I feel his body shudder. It vibrates around me, and moves through the hands that are holding me. The hand in my hair tightens for a moment and I hear him drag air into his lungs.

“Rory,” he groans, moving his hold on my neck so he can tilt my head up.

“I missed the fuck out of you,” I whisper, using his words.

“Jesus, Baby,” he says right before his mouth comes down and brutally claims mine. I open for him, my hands going around him, holding him close to me. Giving in, because I want to, but also because I’m not sure I have a choice.

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