The Best is Yet to Come

Forty Four: Noah

God, there must be something wrong with me.

This poor girl was just outed in front of my mother, I just learned she was orphaned as a teenager, Jackson was an aggravating, empathetic troll and Alice was still the devil.

This whole night was going to shit and yet nothing could distract me from the way Emma felt in my arms.

She looked magnificent. I swear she is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life but she felt unbelievable. I was hypnotized by her every curve in this dress - an effect I was not aware of until I pulled her onto the dance floor.

Even now, with her fingers wrapped around my neck and her head resting on my shoulder, I couldn't ignore the feeling of her breasts pressed against my chest. Suddenly, I was second guessing my stunt back at the bar.

Jesus, Noah, get a grip. What has gotten into you?

I shouldn't be thinking about her like this right now. There were pressing issues at large here. Emma's family. Jackson's talk. Alice's presence. My mother's attitude.

But Christ, Emma. I'd held her a dozen times before but something about tonight heightened my senses and my awareness of her.

Even though my worries prodded and tugged at my thoughts demanding attention, nothing could pull me away from her. The way she felt, so soft and warm against me, the smell of her perfume radiating off her skin, it was enough to break any man.

I nuzzle my nose deeper into her waves, breathing her in. My head dips lower. I drag my lips across her temple and trace the rim of her ear, pecking her feverish skin until I reached the fabric concealing her neck. I tug playfully at it with my teeth, thinking that the dress wasn't so perfect after all.

I swayed her gently to the music barely hearing the singer croon along with the piano and saxophone. Emma's fingers weave expertly into the hair at the nape of my neck, whispering her breathless gasps in my ear.

She consumed my senses until I was completely absorbed by her, until I didn't know who or where I was anymore.

I couldn't get enough.

Thankfully she had more common sense than I did, and pulled away to look adoringly at my face which honestly didn't help very much. All that did was force me to gaze into her eyes, which looked more blue today paired with the dark purple fabric.

The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them, "Emma, I want you to remember this day."

"What?" Emma's pupils turn large and dark, stirring up a lot of feelings I was desperately trying to repress. But another side of me was taking control tonight. A part that apparently didn't mind watching me bleed out my emotions right here on my mother's dance floor.

"I want you to remember this day. This moment. The way it feels to touch each other. How it feels when I kiss you." I reach up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

I thought about Emma crying in my lap this morning. "Think of this moment the next time you feel like giving up or when you're happy or sad, I don't care... I just want you to think of me, of us like this every once in a while." I blurt, breathless. It felt like my heart had tripled in size, threatening to combust inside my chest. "Do you promise?"

"I promise." Emma's eyes were glassy now, her voice cracking on the vow.

That was it. The catalyst.

I crushed my lips to hers, my movements wild and hungry. I didn't care that we looked ridiculous and that my mother would murder me for making a scene at her party. I didn't even care when I thought I saw Jackson walk into the garden with Alice on his arm. All I could focus on was being evenly matched with Emma's enthusiasm, her lips soft and urgent against mine.