“I don’t know what I liked.”
“We talked about some of it.”
“Facts.”
Bitterness sharpened the word.
“Not the feeling.”
He faced me.
“Did I want you all the time? Did I start things, or did you? Was I frightened the first time? Was it good? Did I ever tell you no?”
“Yes.”
His face changed.
I kept my voice steady.
“You told me no when you did not want something. I told you no too. We listened to each other.”
Noah looked down.
“Did you ever hurt me?”
The question hurt, but I answered without hesitation.
“Never without discussing it beforehand. Never beyond what you asked for. Never after you wanted me to stop.”
Color rose from his chest into his face.
“That sounds…”
“Complicated?”
“Yes.”
“We had years to understand one another.”
“I’ve had weeks.”
The truth softened something inside me.
“You do not have to reconstruct what we did.”
His gaze lifted. “What if you want it?”
“I want you safe.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
I stepped closer but stopped beyond reach.
“I want you,” I said. “I wake up wanting you. I think about kissing you. I think about putting my hands on you.”
His breath caught.
