Page 65 of Academically Yours

SEVENTEEN

Noelle

I couldn’t help replaying our kiss over and over in my mind for the rest of the weekend. Not the one at the game, but the one after. When he asked me if I thought he normally kissed his friends like that, and then he showed me. And my body—every bit of me—was on fire. Every time he touched me, it was like something awakened in me, and I didn’t know if I could go back anymore. Didn’t know if I wanted to. Because even thinking about it now, my pulse was thrumming, and my heart was pounding in my chest.

I couldn’t help but replay the moment when he stood on my doorstep as he dropped me off after the game, and I had looked up at him, just staring into his eyes. Neither one of us pulling away, only inches apart, not moving closer.

But putting it into words, talking about how I had never felt anything like this before in my entire life, even for the man I had once thought I would marry? It terrified me. Being that open and honest with him was like giving him a piece of my heart. Dazed and distracted, I had turned my focus back to him. To his skin touching mine. To the sparks that ignited in my blood at his touch.

This thing that was between us? I felt it, so strongly, every day—the pull to him. The magnetic attraction snapped into place the moment we locked eyes across a crowded room. And there was this feeling that somehow this was right. Like out of everything in my life, it was him that made sense to my brain. Every other decision faded away until it was just him and me standing in an empty room, sparks flying between us as his eyes caught mine. And I knew—one of us would cave. One of us would stop running, and we would give into this thing. It was inevitable. Because I craved his touch and his kisses and so much more, and I couldn’t keep telling myself I didn’t want it or couldn’t have it anymore.

I needed it—needed him.

I wanted to plead with the universe. Ask them—God, or the fates, or whoever was in charge—to give us our happy ending. Tell them that if this was fate, if we were meant to be, then I needed to know we would be okay. That we could be happy.

Because if I let Matthew Harper have my heart, there was no getting it back.

As much as I couldn’t deny the physical connection we shared, the butterflies in my gut, or the spatial awareness I felt in his presence—it was the way he had shown me, over and over, how much he cared for me that really mattered. Someone who just wanted my body, wanted to sleep with me and discard me, would never look at me this reverently, right?

Not like the way Matthew had looked at me last night. Like I was his damnation, but also his savior. He looked at me in a way I hoped he had never looked at anyone before, because I wanted this—him—to be all mine. For this feeling, these moments, to be just ours. And the heated expression in his eyes right before he finally pressed his lips to mine… I knew there was no going back from this moment. For either of us.

I wondered, for only a moment, if I should worry about that. Because as much as I was sure Matthew Harper could, and had, repaired my shattered heart, I also knew he could just as easily leave it broken on the ground once again. But I couldn’t think about that, not now.

Not while I was sitting with my friends. I couldn’t keep the truth from them anymore. Not when I had been this close to begging him to take me back to his house, making him give me what he promised me. Fuck you all night long was on a loop in my brain right now. The words sounded so absolutely filthy coming out of his mouth. But I loved it. And I wanted it.

So I told them it… All of it. Well—except for his comment about what he wanted to do to me in my bedroom. They didn’t need to know that.

“You guys kissed!?” Gabrielle cried out, gaping at me as I pushed around the eggs on my plate at our favorite breakfast place on Saturday morning.

“Shhh,” I said, looking around as I bit into my croissant sandwich. “Don’t say it so loud!”

“Noelle,” Angelina rolled her eyes. “I don’t think anyone in here is going to care about your relationship.” She dropped her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Not even if he’s a smoking hot professor.”

“It’s not that,” I protested. I just didn’t want to share the details with the whole world. Especially not at our coffee shop, the one we came to almost every weekend, where the baristas knew our names and orders.

Gabbi frowned. “Honestly, what exactly are you holding back for, Noelle? You want him, right? And it sounds like you want him. So what’s the problem?”

“I just—” What was holding me back? The truth was, I did want him. Had wanted him since he kissed me the first time, really. Would have let him do me against the tree, right then and there, if we hadn’t been out in the open. Why were we constantly having this happen to us in public places?

I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Couldn’t get the way he had held me after the Blazers game to stop feeling like an imprint on my brain. It was like kissing him had rewired my entire brain, and all I knew was I didn’t want to run away from it—didn’t want to run away from him anymore.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if it ends badly, you guys. Jake… he broke me.”

“And since you met Matthew, you’ve finally been smiling again, Noelle. Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve seen you genuinely happy? Because in all the time since you moved back from New York, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile as much as you have this past month.” Charlotte said, somehow always knowing exactly what I needed to hear.

And I realized she was right.

I had been smiling again. Not because of him, necessarily, but because the wounds Jake had left in me felt like they were growing smaller. Because the weight of the grief had lessened since this big grumpy professor had walked into my life and showed me how much he cared about me in so many different ways. So many ways I had never even known, even when I had someone I called my own. Someone who I thought had loved me.

And last night, when I kissed him as we said goodbye, our bodies pressed together… I knew. It was an undeniable truth. I wanted this man. My body wanted this man. I was so tired of dancing around, not knowing quite what we were. He had kissed me, taken me to dinner, spent time with me… but what were we?

It was safe to say I knew we were friends now. But it was more than that. There was this… energy when we were around each other. I could tell he felt an attraction to me as strongly as I did to him. The way he reacted when he touched me, was like it zapped his skin. How his eyes drooped lower as his hand brushed against mine—yeah, I wasn’t imagining it. And I wanted to hold his hand through life. So badly.

“You’re right.” I sighed. “I think I really like him.”

“You think?” Angelina snorted. “Ging, we know you do. And we get it. Truly. So go get your man.”

I groaned into my arm as I laid my head against the table. “But how?” I asked, rhetorically, but when I lifted my head I found shared wicked expressions on all three of my friends’ faces.