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the table. “What makes you think that?”
This woman is insane. “You said it. You told me if I try to fix you, you’ll disappear. It’s frustrating.” I pause to make sure her eyes are on mine. “It’s frustrating that I want to be around you, but I feel like I’m walking on eggshells while wearing cleats. I don’t know how to talk to you, or what to say. I know that you aren’t ready to let me in yet, but you have to at least crack the door, because I’m out here reeling, hoping you’ll at least consider letting me in.”
Nora studies my face. Her eyes move from my mouth to my eyes and back to my mouth again. Her eyes are softer now, her brows slightly furrowed. “Landon”—she takes the seat next to me—“I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I don’t want you to hide the way you feel or be afraid that I’m going to run at a moment’s notice.”
My finger runs across the wood sticker on the table, which is peeling off. Another IKEA fail, but this time I’m grateful to have it as a distraction.
“Landon, look at me.” Nora’s fingers are warm when they touch my chin, lifting my face. “Let’s play a game. Okay?” She moves her chair toward me. I want her fingers on my skin once more. Before I agree, she starts again. “The only rule in this game is that we tell the truth, okay?”
I like the sound of this game, but it seems too easy. “The whole truth?”
“And nothing but the truth.”
“So help you God?”
She gives me that smile that makes me think I love her. “For as long as you both shall live?” Nora says, and we both laugh. “I think those are wedding vows.” Her laugh is natural, like her beauty. “Oops.” She smiles humorously.
I try to stop my laughter. “I like the idea of this game. But what’s the prize?”
Nora licks her lips and pulls her pouty bottom lip between her teeth. I watch her suck it for a second. “The truth,” she says.
I can’t think of anything I would rather be doing than touching those lips. With my lips, with my tongue. Even with my finger. I just want to touch her. I need to.
I need to touch her like I need to breathe.
“Whose truth? Mine or yours?” I know that they aren’t the same.
“Both,” she says with certainty.
I stare at her with steady eyes. “And when do we begin?”
The braid on her shoulder is falling loose, tiny hairs sticking out of the bundle. She runs her fingers over it as if she can hear my thoughts. “Now. I go first.”
I nod in agreement. That’s fine with me.
She takes a deep breath and tugs on her hair tie. Her fingers pull through her dark hair, unknotting the waves. “When we were at the station in Scarsdale, you said that you missed me. Was that true or not true?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes. True.”
She smiles. I watch her fingers weave her thick hair back into a braid.
“My turn.” I continue to pick at the chipped edge of the table. “Did you miss me? Truth or not truth?”
She nods. This feels an awful lot like Katniss and Peeta’s Real or Not Real game. I stare at Nora, waiting for her to actually say the words. She doesn’t.
“Words aren’t real until you say them.”
She stares back at me appreciatively. “Not true.” Watching her say so, I can feel my chest ache. She holds her hand up. “I meant that what you just said isn’t true. Words are real when we write them down. Taking the time to make them permanent makes them real.”
I shake my head to disagree. “Words can still be erased if you write them down. But if you say
