Then I lean up and meet his mouth with mine.
Noah’s lips are fire warm and feather soft, and the contact makes heat rush through my body. The way we’re positioned makes our kiss entirely PG—something my brother could see without freaking out, but somehow it still feels like…everything. Like something intangible is happening.
After several moments of gentle, tender kisses, I sit up a little taller, bringing myself closer. I want more of him. More ofthis.But I can’t get close enough. I’m still sitting, and he’s still standing, andonlyour lips are touching.
It’s maddening.
Sensing my frustration, or maybe feeling it himself, Noah breaks the kiss long enough to stand to his full height and pull me to my feet. Wordlessly, he spins us around and sits in the chair I just vacated, then slips his hands around my waist and tugs me onto his lap so I’m facing him, my knees bracketing his hips.
“Is this okay?” he whispers as his fingers slide into my hair and press into my scalp.
“Perfect,” I whisper back. Then I find his lips again.
I’m not sure I have ever believed in love at first sight. Or even love at first kiss. But I do know that I have kissed my fair share of men over the years, and no kiss has ever felt like this.
I lift my hands to Noah’s cheeks and cradle his face, willing him to sense what I’m sensing, to pick up on the same intensity that’s making my limbs feel molten. This kiss is rewiring my body, rewriting my programming to be tuned in to him like I’ve never been tuned in to anyone before.
When I deepen the kiss, my tongue brushing against his bottom lip, Noah lets out a low groan that makes my blood runeven hotter. This man is impossibly attractive, sexy in ways that make it very easy to imagine forgetting everything but the feel of his body under my hands.
But something else is happening here. Something bigger.
Somehow, I know with utter certainty.
This kiss—this moment—it’s a beginning for both of us.
When our lips finally part, I’m almost afraid to meet Noah’s eye. But then he brushes a kiss to my forehead and utters a simple, “Wow.”
I chuckle into his chest, wrapping my arms around him while his hands settle against my back. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
After I begrudgingly let Noah get up long enough to put another log on the fire, we settle back into the same chair and talk for hours.
We touch on almost everything. The big things—politics, religion, world views. But we also talk about food and pets and vacations. We list our favorite books and our favorite movies and talk about how we like to spend our free time. We discover we both love hiking, though I’d rather die than sleep on the ground, and he’s an avid backpacker, happy to stay on the trail for days.
I tell him about Juno and how much I loved watching my best friend become a mom. He tells me about his three younger brothers. About being the oldest in a family of boys. He talks about med school and his decision to practice emergency medicine. How he feels like the ER is the one place where decisions and words come to him easily.
Except, the words are also coming easilynow.No long pauses, no more hesitation. I’m not sure he’s noticed, butI’mnoticing, and it’s really making my heart happy.
“You’re getting sleepy,” Noah says after a particularly long lull in the conversation. It isn’t a bad lull. Not awkward at all. But he’s right. Iamgetting sleepy.
I drop my head onto his shoulder and close my eyes. “Yeah. But I don’t want to go to bed. You’re good company.”
“Come on,” he says, giving my hip a good-natured squeeze. “Sleep. We have all day tomorrow.”
I grumble as I shift and stand, but I also let out an enormous yawn, so I can’t truly argue.
Once he’s on his feet, Noah picks up the blanket that fell on the floor and wraps it around my shoulders, pulling it closed just under my chin.
“Stay warm tonight,” he says, the firelight flickering across his face.
I push up on my toes and press my lips against his. “I will because of you.”
He lingers, kissing me one more time, then he steps away and moves toward the door. The absence of his warmth triggers a sudden and intense longing, and a tiny sense of panic wells up in my chest. Like him leaving might end whatever magic we’ve felt tonight.
“Noah,” I say just as he reaches the door. He turns, one hand on the doorknob, and looks at me over his shoulder.
I lick my lips. “What are you thinking right now?”
I’m not sure what sort of answer I’m looking for. Maybe just confirmation that he’s feeling this too.
