His lips trail feather-light kisses down the side of my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he...
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————————————— C A M I L A
The night air hits me, and suddenly I'm running. My hair's a wild mess, my breaths are sharp and quick, but I don't slow down. Not until I'm at their apartment, buzzing up, and then Fox's voice cracks through the speaker, "One sec."
The elevator ride feels like an eternity. My hands rest on my knees as I try to catch my breath. When the doors open, I step out, jog to their door, and knock.
Every second is an eternity. I keep feeling like I'm about to see something horrible, feel something horrible.
Fox's there when the door swings open, Jed just a step behind, both in whatever they threw on after I called—shorts, hoodies—the apartment's lights dim like it's past everyone's bedtime.
"Did you run here, Sport?" Fox's eyebrow is up, a half-smile playing on his lips. I can only nod, still catching my breath. "Fucking hell," he mutters, stepping aside to let me in.
Jed, leaning against the wall with a can of something in his hand, says, "You have a lot of hair."
I manage a breathless laugh, brushing a hand through my curls. "Yeah, it's chaos chic."
Fox chuckles, closing the door behind me, while Jed just shakes his head.
Shedding my hoodie, which is way too hot after that run, leaves me in a loose black shirt, my eyes scanning the room, finding Noah out on the balcony.
He's in grey sweats, no shirt, leaning heavily against the rail, his head bowed.
I slip off my shoes and shuffle across the kitchen, the tiles cold under my socked feet. Sliding the door open, the chill night air wraps around me instantly, sharp and unforgiving without that damn sweater.
"Leave me alone, Fox," comes the mumble from Noah, not even bothering to look.
"Hey," I say, stepping out and closing the door behind me. It's really cold, the wind biting through my shirt. He needs to go in.
Noah turns slowly, straightening up as he does, his dark eyes meeting mine. There's a moment, a beat, where he just stares, taking in the wild mess of my hair, maybe wondering if I'm real.
He's exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, surrounded by dark circles, lips chapped from the wind.
I'm intruding, I know that, but I had to see him, had to know he's real and here and just... Noah.
He blinks slowly, a flicker of something passing through his gaze. It's not annoyance, not really. If anything, there's a softness, a surrender to the fact that I'm here, in front of him. At least I hope.
"Camila." His voice is hoarse, like he hasn't used it in hours, maybe days.
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the cold. "I called," I say, the words escaping in a puff of white against the night air.
