She sat all the way up. “You listen to me. You’re a good man, Noah McCormick. The best I know. Your entire life, you have put other people first, from the time you were a lifeguard to joining the Army to becoming a police officer. My God, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you!”

Still I said nothing.

“And what about those experiences, huh? Asher couldn’t have been a lifeguard, but that didn’t stop you from becoming one. Or from enlisting. Or from being a cop.”

“It didn’t stop me, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel bad about it. And I’m not saying it makes sense—I’m just telling you how I feel.”

“Never feel like you don’t deserve to be happy, Noah. Because you do. And Asher would be the first person to say so.”

It almost made me smile, the soft ferocity in her voice as she defended me against my demons, even though she couldn’t possibly win. “Thanks. Sorry to dump all that on you. I’ve never told anyone that stuff before.”

She planted a kiss on my lips and snuggled next to me again. “I’m glad you told me.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

“For what?”

“To tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.”

“Oh. Hmmm, let me think.” Then she sighed. “You’ll think this is dumb.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Okay, but it’s going to sound silly, especially after what you told me.”

“Sawyer.”

“Okay.” She hesitated. “I want someone to fight for me.”

“What do you mean? Like, slay a dragon?”

“See, I knew you’d make fun of me.” She rolled away from me and I cuddled up behind her, wrapping my body around hers like a comma.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not making fun.” I kissed her shoulder. “And I would totally slay a dragon for you.”

“I don’t want anyone to fight a dragon,” she said. “I just want someone that doesn’t give up on me so easily. I feel like . . . I’ve had all these relationships that just wither and die, and there’s no fight to keep it alive. No one ever cares enough.” She sniffed, and I felt like the biggest asshole in the world for teasing her. I was trying to think of what to say to make her feel better when she went on.

“But it’s my fault too. I’ve never fought to keep things alive either, and I don’t know why that is. Maybe I’m too scared to put myself out there. Scared to make myself that vulnerable.”

“Maybe you haven’t felt anything worth fighting for,” I said, certain that the DC douchebags she dated weren’t worthy of her anyway. Nobody was.

“Maybe. But that could be my fault too. I think I use work as an excuse not to really lose myself in a relationship. Because it’s safe. I’m good at it. I know exactly what I’m doing, and the risk of failure is low. With another person, you can never really know what they’re thinking or feeling.”

“You can ask him.”

“But I’m scared to ask him.” She turned onto her back and looked up at me with huge eyes. “What if he doesn’t feel what I feel?”

God, this woman. I’d have torn my heart from my chest for her.

“He does,” I said. “He always will.”

“Noah,” she whispered, and for a moment I was terrified of the words that might come out of her mouth.

If we didn’t say it, there was a chance we’d still be okay.

So I kissed her, moving my body over hers. And I tried to silence the voice in my head the same way, using our physical connection, our insatiable hunger for one another, as a weapon against the emotions that threatened to demolish all my defenses.

We could kiss, we could touch, we could fuck. We could make each other scratch and bite, sigh and moan. We could act out our fantasies, whisper dirty words in the dark, and make each other come all night long.

But we couldn’t love each other.

Not like that.

Twenty

Meg

Noah had the next day off, but he said he had boring errands to run—dry cleaners, bank, gym, grocery store—so he took me home in the morning and we made plans to hang out that evening. I’d planned to use the day to catch up on work, but spent the entire morning staring at my laptop screen and trying to make a decision about something I’d begun thinking about last night . . . moving back.

I’d lain awake for a good portion of the night wondering if it was the worst idea I’d ever had or the best. Was I really ready to drastically change my life to be with him? What would he say if I brought it up? Did he feel what I felt? What if he didn’t?

When Sylvia and April invited me to join them for shopping and lunch, I jumped at the chance to distract myself . . . Then I spent the entire time obsessing over the same questions that had kept me up last night.

“Earth to Meg.”

“Sorry, what?” I was sitting across the lunch table from them, and looked up to see them glance at each other, amused. I’d been asking them to repeat themselves all day.

“Your head is really in the clouds today,” April said with a rueful smile. “Mine’s just cloudy with a hangover.”

“Ugh, mine too.” Sylvia reached for her water. “Thank goodness we have tonight to recover before the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.”

“So tell us about your late night with Noah.” April’s eyebrows rose suggestively. “You haven’t said much at all. Was it fun?”

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. “It’s always fun with Noah.”

But last night had gone beyond just fun. And what had me so starry-eyed and cloudy-headed today wasn’t the sex, it was the way we’d opened up to each other. Every time I thought about the way he’d confessed his guilt about Asher and how he felt he didn’t deserve to be happy, I wanted to cry. But it made me happy that he’d trusted me with such a deeply personal feeling.

And I totally understood why he’d been short with me in the car—like his dad, he’d just needed to get the anger out. Did I enjoy being spoken to that way? No, but it also meant something to me that he’d trusted me with those feelings too. He hadn’t felt the need to pretend everything was fine. And I didn’t just want the good times with Noah. I wanted everything.

I took a breath. “You guys, I need to say something out loud, and it might sound crazy.”

Sylvia’s eyes went wide and she set down her water. “Go ahead.”

Another breath. “I’m thinking of moving back.”

April’s jaw fell open. “Here?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“To be with Noah?” she asked.

“Well, yes, partly. I mean, I’d be lying if I said he didn’t factor in at all, but also . . .” I twisted my hands together in my lap. “I really love it here. I’ve been so happy all week being around family and revisiting all my old childhood memories. When I left at eighteen, I couldn’t wait to get away from all the slow-paced, small-town familiarity of it all, but now I feel differently. Now I kind of want to slow down. Now the familiarity of being home seems comforting and peaceful.”