That one declaration causes those mutant pterodactyls to raise their heads and grow restless, stretching their wings in preparation for flight. While the fantasy he wove is fantastically cool and amazing, it makes me hot and flustered to think he wants me bad enough to actually do something like that...in public...
“Will we do it all the time now?” And as soon as the question leaves my mouth, I’m swamped in the land of lame. “I mean, I know that wasn’t a one-time deal, but is that what we’ll do forever? Like now that we’ve accomplished actually doing it, is that what we’ll do night after night or will we do other things?”
And I’m rambling. Horribly so. Oh, God, kill me. Now. Send a bolt of lightning from the sky and strike me dead.
“Because it was special.” Because I have this horrid deficiency where I feel the need to explain why I’m a freak of nature. “And while it was special and awesome, I’m not sure how awesome it will be every single night. Because...well...” It hurt.
Noah laughs, but his laughter dies when he notices I’m not laughing with him.
“Hey,” he says. But I can’t look at him because of this sickening weight in my stomach. Noah laughed at me. I opened up, just a little, and he laughed.
“Echo.” Noah switches the hand he’s driving with then reaches over and grabs on to the fingers resting in my lap, but I jerk them away. “Look at me.”
But I can’t. “I wasn’t joking. This is still new and it still scares me and...forget it.”
“I’m the dick. I keep telling you to talk then I cut you off. I thought you were kidding.”
Anger courses through me like a rocket launch. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“No.” He alternates his focus between me and the road. “You look fucking pissed.”
I don’t know why, but I giggle. So much so, that I smack a hand over my mouth to stop it from coming, but the giggles continue. “Do I look that bad?”
Noah opens his mouth, closes it then smashes his lips together in a fine line as if examining his thoughts. “Not anymore. What’s going on in your head?”
I trace the outline of my phone as the whiplash emotions settle. “I don’t want us to change. What we did was huge, and I want us to be okay.”
Noah seeks my hand again, but this time I let him take it. He lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “We’re okay. I swear.”
Noah
Echo stays silent when I ease into a spot at the hotel and shut off the engine. She gave me a special part of her last night, and I almost fucked it up. First my parents then my brothers. Echo’s the lone piece of my soul worth holding on to.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I will never understand her. “For what?”
“For being me.” Echo drops the statement and exits the car. What the hell?
I follow her out then join her when she leans against the side of the car.
“I thought after we took this trip,” she continues, “that I’d somehow be stronger and more confident—I thought this summer was going to change me, but I only have two thousand more questions instead of any answers.”
I rest my hands on her shoulders and stare straight into her eyes. “Do you regret it?”
She blinks, shocked at the question. “What?”
“Do you regret making love to me?”
Lines form on her forehead as she squints. “No. I...I...”
Not reading her mind is torture. “What?”
“I want things to be simple...and for us to be okay...and...and to know that after all this, you still love me.”
Bang—the sound of the weight of the world sliding off my shoulders. Is that it? Is that all that bothers her? I gather Echo into me like a man pardoned from death row. “I love you. We won’t change. I promise.”
It’s when she relaxes in my arms that I find the peace I had last night when we were together. She craves simple, and all the two of us have ever known is complicated.
I’m a man of word, and I’m determined to keep this promise. If I’m doing this whole relationship thing then it’s time I figure out how to put her needs first. Damn me to hell that this plan includes eating my pride. “What are your plans for today?”
“Laundry,” she mumbles into my chest. “I’ve noticed your lack of boxer short wearing.”
“Easy access, baby.”
A muffled humph on her end. “I’ve already told you that the dressing room was a one-time deal.”
“Stop messing with my fantasies. What else are you doing today?”
“I need to call my dad.”
“What else?”
Echo’s shoulders turn rock-solid, and she shifts. She’s terrified of starting another fight. For the past couple of days we’ve been unbalanced. I can’t allow it, not anymore. Not after last night. “You should try the painting.”
She rises onto her toes. “For real?”
For that look? “Yeah. Knock this Hunter asshole dead.”
Literally, and then I’ll kick him while he’s down for shits and giggles.