“Because I want this badly enough to be afraid of getting it wrong.”
His expression softened.
“You won’t.”
“You cannot know that.”
“I know you.”
I went still.
Those words had belonged to me once.
Now he offered them back.
Noah opened his arms.
I crossed the room.
We held each other before removing a single piece of clothing.
His face rested against my chest. My palm covered the back of his head. Beneath my hand, his hair was still slightly damp.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.”
“I want to remember tonight.”
“You will.”
“And if I don’t?”
“We’ll create another memory.”
His breath warmed my skin.
“That was the correct answer.”
We undressed slowly.
Noah opened my shirt and pushed it from my shoulders. I eased his over his arms, careful of the healing joint.
He unfastened my belt.
I helped him step out of his pants without twisting his hip.
When nothing remained between us, we stood close enough for our bodies to touch from chest to thigh.
Noah looked down.
“Still want me?”
“Yes.”
“Not the person I was before?”
“You.”
