His lips trail down 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 does. And I feel it. For a long...
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NOAH
My heart's hammering against my ribcage, my chest seizing around it, keeping it in place—well, trying to. It's like a heavy leaden lock settling into place.
I've never, ever felt this, so it's weird that I even know how to recognize it, but I do. And with everything I am, I know this is love.
"I'm..." My voice cracks, words lost in the dryness of my throat. I glance down at the papers she's given me, my hands trembling slightly. "Thank you."
Cam exhales, her body unwinding from the tension as she falls back into her chair. "Oh, good. Yeah, it wasn't a big deal. I just had a feeling you needed your hand held through this." Her smile is gentle, a little teasing maybe. "Believe that you can do it, okay? Because you absolutely can. You're Batman."
No. No, no, no. This is too much right now.
She's looking at me like this, and fuck. I don't believe in myself, but her? Not even a question. I believe her.
She's my cornerstone, suddenly, inexplicably, and that's fucking weird. It's like my cells are rearranging at the thought.
"I'm really good at formatting and applications stuff. I'll credit my business class for that. So tap me in if you get busy. You only have a month or so," Cam says, then hesitates, another shadow of crossing her face. "Only if you want. I'm sorry—I'm not crazy, I'm just..." She trails off, shaking her head. "Crazy, I guess. I don't know. I just want to...I don't know."
I turn my head away, struggling to compose myself.
Fuck. This isn't how I imagined love—this hurts.
My heart won't beat right, like I'm scared she's about to dissolve into mist, and like everything's tilted around her. My world of school, family, friends...everything's shifted in space and it's because her gravity is all at the centre.
"Noah?" Cam's voice pulls at me, a whisper.
I'm still staring at the wall. "I'm okay," I manage to say, but the words scrape out over hot coals. I clear my throat, trying for more stability. "I just really, really, really appreciate it."
"It wasn't a big deal," she says, her tone now laced with concern. "Why are you hiding?"
I'm not ready for her eyes, her face, her entire form. But I force myself to turn and meet her dark, pretty eyes, mustering a facade of calm. "Not hiding. Right here."
She studies me, her frown deepening before she seems to accept my answer, at least on the surface. Then, shifting in her chair, she turns to fully face me, her arm coming to rest on the back of the chairs.
Her hand finds its way to my hair. The touch is gentle, so gentle, so worried and soft.
I let out a sharp breath, my eyes closing under the solace of her hand.
