“Wha—”
I shook it off, shyly smiling. “I can’t wait.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah... I just spaced out for a second.”
“You remember somethin’?”
“No. I don’t think so. I swear... my head is just... I don’t even know. It doesn’t matter. I’m just excited for my surprise, so hurry up already,” I laughed, trying to play it off that I was fine, when I wasn’t.
“Mia, you know if you ever wanna ask me anythin’ about the past. I’ll always be honest with you.”
“Noah...” I looked over at him, taking a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to know? Like what if I don’t want to remember?” I had never told anyone this besides Dr. Garcia.
He smiled, reaching for my hand. Bringing it over to his mouth to softly kiss it. “Then I’d be the luckiest fuckin’ bastard in the world.”
I smiled, not wanting to know what he meant by that statement. Again, I was too afraid to hear the answer. He held my hand the rest of the way, sitting pretty on his thigh. Rubbing his fingers back and forth on the palm of my hand. Sending delightful shivers through my body. Noah was always touching me in one way or another. At times it was subtle, like placing his arm on the back of my chair, rubbing my shoulder with his thumb. Or when we were having a casual conversation, he would play with the ends of my hair. Listening to every word that came out of my mouth with an intense regard.
Making me miss his touch when we weren’t together. Especially at night, when I felt there should be a presence, but didn’t understand why.
I went over to his house a few times, spending hours hanging out with him and his mom. Laughing our asses off at all the stories she told me about Noah when he was a little boy. I never asked him when his mom finally got sober. Not wanting to dig up past memories, just like he didn’t want to uncover mine. She didn’t seem like the woman he threw back in Creed’s face at all. She seemed so loving, caring, a woman with a big heart. Still bringing me the same sense of comfort she had so many months ago. Almost like a second mom.
We had a bond like I had known her forever. Plus, she made the best apple pie. She’d usually sit at the dining room table drinking her coffee, while Noah and I sat on the couch flipping through channels on the TV. He would snuggle me close and rub the back of my neck, right at the hairline. Making me relax into his side. I would often catch the look on his mom’s face out the corner of my eye as if she was torn between her sons. Needing to say something to me, but it never came out.
“Close ‘em eyes,” Noah ordered, pulling me away from my thoughts.
“This isn’t like a sexual thing, right? Because I don’t know how I feel about that,” I sarcastically stated, wiggling my eyebrows. Trying to stifle a laugh.
“If it were sexual, you’d be wearin’ a blindfold and possibly some handcuffs. Now, close ‘em eyes.”
I chuckled and did as I was told, impatiently waiting for what was to come. A few minutes later he parked my Jeep.
“Can I open them now?”
“No. I’ll be back. Won’t take long. Do not open your eyes.”
I sat there fidgeting with the seam of my dress, anticipating his returned. Trying to ignore the fluttering feeling that was suddenly consuming my belly. A familiar, yet unfamiliar sensation Noah had inflicted more and more these days. The passenger door to the Jeep flew open, I yelped from the sudden intrusion but instantly calmed when I felt his touch.
“Relax, pretty girl. It’s just me,” he whispered near my ear, once again stirring my emotions. He grabbed my hand, turning me in the seat to face him. Letting me go and stepping away. “You can open them now.”
I did. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, looking at the pink surfboard in his grasp. The words, “Pretty Girl” written in white lettering across it.
“I had this custom made for you. It should be perfect for your size and weight.”
“Noah... when I told you that my board didn’t fit me anymore, I wasn’t saying for you to buy me one. That’s a Channel Islands surfboard, it must have cost you a small fortune.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that. You’re worth every penny and then some,” he replied, smiling. “You said you remembered how to surf, but ya haven’t been hittin’ the waves cuz you didn’t have a board that fits. So, I got one for you. I wanna watch you kick ass out there in the water.” He nodded to the ocean. “Drove us all the way over to Ocean Island Beach, the forecast predicted the best waves here today.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say, but thank you so much. It’s beautiful.” Without any thought, I jumped out of my Jeep and wrapped my arms around his neck, squeezing him tight.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured in my ear before I pulled away.
I smiled, looking around the beach. “I don’t have a bathing suit. I guess we could find a shop around here.”
“Took care of that, too.” He opened the back door of my Jeep, pulling out a gray bag that had towels, sunscreen, and a new pink bikini for me.
Instantly bringing back those reoccurring feelings by seeing the bag and its contents.
“I see a running theme here. You like the color pink, Noah?” I teased, smirking at him. Holding up the bathing suit.
“You love pink. It’s your favorite color.”
“Oh...”
“Will you wear it for me? So I can see a big part of your world.”
I nodded, feeling as though this had happened before. All of it seemed so familiar. The ocean, the surfboard, and the pink bikini all hit me at once. I shook off the plaguing thoughts, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was such an amazingly sweet gesture that he put a lot of thought into. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin it.
I changed in the restroom at the beach, noticing immediately that the bikini left very little to the imagination. I was grateful it at least covered my faint C-section scar. The only reminder I had of my pregnancy. Other than that, I didn’t look or feel like I was ever pregnant. Noah and I hadn’t spoken about our baby girl since we laid her to rest six months ago. Neither one of us had breached the subject, not even one time. I think we were both scared to bring it up, afraid it would make it too real. Both of us pretending it never happened were easier.