All at Once

Chapter Two

The sound of my boots clicking on the pavement broke through the quiet night, as I rushed out of the tube station and headed towards home. Knowing that Noah was so close filled me with a strange feeling. A feeling that I hadn't known since I was a child.

I remember one Christmas Eve, when dad was still around. My mum had tried to put me to bed at least three times, but the warm glow of the lights from downstairs and the noise of her shuffling around making last minute preparations was too much. Each time I'd managed to creep about halfway down the stairs, she'd spot me peering through the bannister and chase me, giggling, back up to my room.

It was only when dad came to tuck me in one last time that I'd finally stayed tightly swaddled in the covers and drifted off to colourful dreams about the next morning. His low, soothing, voice; the way he stroked my hair as he told me stories, he was my comfort. The same way Noah had felt when he had unexpectedly turned up outside my house on that surprise night back in December.

Given the way contact between us had died down while he'd been away on the first leg of The Ambition tour, I'd expected things to be different. Awkward maybe. But they weren't. Nothing happened between us on that snowy, winter night; we'd just talked. And then, when our lips were too dry and our bodies too tired to even think about doing anything else, we'd talked some more.

For the first time since I'd met him, I'd allowed Noah tell me everything. No interruptions, no assumptions, just his story; spilling out into the safety that the four walls of my flat shrouded his secrets in. It hurt to hear all the gory details - it hurt badly - but I needed to hear it. And, more importantly, he needed to say it.

Noah had ended up staying right through the holidays. My mum had been a little taken aback to say the least when we both turned up at her house on the day before Christmas Eve, but she'd quickly fallen as in love with him as I was.

Now, he was back in the country again. In a few minutes, my boyfriend would be back in my arms. The thought whipped my stomach into a frenzy as I turned the final corner onto my road, the tall, white brick houses looking eerily beautiful in the moonlight.

A sleek, silver Mercedes sat outside my house, its engine still purring to keep the heaters running. My walk almost broke into a run as I got closer. It had been six weeks since I'd last seen Noah and I'd missed him more than I'd ever thought possible.

When I was almost within touching distance of the car, the back passenger door swung open. A tall figure jumped out, swamped in a black, padded winter coat with the hood pulled up. From the movement of his limbs alone, I didn't need any confirmation who it was before jumping into his arms.

Noah's lips were warm against the cold of my face. Pressing them against my cheek, my senses revelled in his scent. The feel of his arms around me, the light tickle of his stubble as he moved his lips to mine.

My mouth felt as though it had been starved. I could have kissed him all night long, glued to the spot in the quiet London street I called home.

"Evening, Abigail," he said, pulling his face back to smile out at me from under the giant hood.

"What the hell are you wearing?" I laughed, tugging one of the elastic toggles that hung from under his chin.

"It's my European winter wear. Don't you like it?" he smiled.

I shook my head and let out another quiet laugh, before pressing my forehead to his. "You were gone too long," I whispered.

Noah met my lips with his once again, the soft and tender kiss sending warmth from my scalp to my toes.

"I know," he replied.

Dropping me back to my feet, he glanced around the street before sticking his head back into the car and thanking the driver. His smile was wide as he emerged again, now clutching a huge bouquet of white roses in his hand.