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“Goodnight, Noelle,” he murmured into my hair.
“Goodnight, Professor Harper,” I said against his chest before he finally pulled away, taking the heat of his body with him.
Despite how cold I already felt in his absence, I didn’t want to show my disappointment with our lost connection, so I just winked at him again—what the hell was wrong with me—and then spun on my heels, almost skipping back into the building.
Even when I was lying in bed later that night, I couldn’t stop smiling. I was just repeating the day in my mind, every glorious moment with him. Even with all of my residents who we had seen, who had said hello to us, somehow the day just felt like ours. Like maybe it meant something more.
Just holding hands had sent a rush through my body, sparks that lit up every inch of my being. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it might feel like to feel his lips against mine. The desire curled in my stomach; a want that was driving me crazy with need. Where did it come from? I hadn’t been with anyone—romantically or sexually—in three years. And when I had tried to scratch the itch, to give into my body’s needs, it hadn’t felt right. I had never gone further than kissing, and even then, it felt wrong.
A betrayal of something I didn’t even understand back then.
But now, it felt like I did. It felt like my whole life, I had been waiting for someone. Waiting for this. Waiting for him. Because when he touched me… He set my soul on fire. He filled me with warmth, and happiness, and somehow… a belief that maybe, everything might be okay again. That I could lose myself in him and never let go.
That he would never leave me.
I buried my face into the pillow, wishing I could inhale his scent one more time. I was remembering the way he had hugged me as we said goodbye, how he held me tight like I was treasured. The way I pressed myself to his chest, taking in the scent of him. The strength of him. I couldn’t get over the feeling of him holding me against his body. It was like I was on fire, and I needed his touch to cool me down. Or maybe I’d let him burn me, and we could bask in this warmth together.
My phone buzzed, and I sat up to pick it up from the nightstand.
It was a text from Hazel, a little winky face emoji, and a photo attached. I opened it, and I think my breath caught in my throat. “Oh, Hazel, you sly dog.”
It was us—Matthew and I—from behind. We were holding hands, completely oblivious to Hazel behind us, and I was laughing at something he said. And the look on Matthew’s face? I couldn’t ignore the warmth in his eyes, the smile as he looked at me that communicated things that words did not. It was beautiful, and I knew I would treasure the memory forever.
I was speechless and breathless, and I knew that if I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall hopelessly for this man.
Maybe I already was.
