Chapter 54: Chapter Twenty Seven.-2

I can't breathe, or move, or even speak when she's this close. Even with sugar covering her, she's so painfully stunning that it physically hurts to look at her. "Maybe I do," I tell her, somehow feeling the same. I barely know anything about her, but maybe it isn't about knowing the factual things. Maybe it doesn't matter if I know her mom's name, or her favorite color. Maybe it doesn't take years to know people like we assume, maybe the important things are much, much simpler. Maybe it matters more that we see deeper, that we know what kind of friend they are, or that they bake cakes for people they don't know without being asked. "You shouldn't," she says, still staring up at me. Without thinking, I take a step closer to her and she closes her eyes. "Maybe I should." I don't know who I am in this moment. I don't feel nervous about being so close to such a beautiful woman. I don't feel like I'm not good enough to be touching her face. I barely have any thoughts running through my mind and I like the silence inside my head that she seems to bring. "We can't," her voice is barely audible. Her eyes are still shut and my hand is on her cheek without me even knowing that I put it there. My thumb traces the outline of her pouty mouth, and I can feel the quickening of her pulse where my palm rests on her neck. "Maybe we can." In this moment, all I know in the world is that her hands are gripping the fabric of my sweatshirt and even though her words are doubting this, she's pulling me closer to her. "You don't know how bad I am for you," her mouth rushes the words and her eyes peer open just a fraction and my heart swells. There's pain there, a deep pain shredded through the dark green and the flakes of brown. Her pain is visible to me for the first time, and I can feel the weight of it in her hooded gaze. Something shifts and locks into place inside of me and I don't have the words to explain it. I want to heal her. I want her to know that everything will be okay. I want her to know that pain is only permanent if we allow it to be. I don't know the origin of hers, but I'm certain that I would do anything to take it away from her. My shoulders can bear her pain, they are strong, built for it, and I need to her know that. I feel fiercely protective of her now, as if she's been mine to guard for my entire existence. "You don't know what you're getting into," Nora warns, and I quiet her with my thumb against her lips. She parts them under my touch and exhales a breathless sigh. "I don't care," I say and mean it. Her eyes close again and she she pulls me closer, until our bodies are pressed together, molded like they are supposed to be, like they were made to be. I lean down and lick my lips and she whimpers as if she's been waiting an eternity for my lips to find hers, and it does feel that way. I feel a powerful sense of relief, like I've found a part of me that I didn't know was missing. I rest my hand on her cheek and there's barely an inch between our mouths. She's breathing so softly, as if I'm the fragile one, and she's being careful with me. Her lips taste like sugar and she's my favorite dessert. I'm gentle with her, gently pressing my lips against the corners of her mouth and she makes a noise in the back of her throat that makes my head swim. I feel dizzy when her mouth opens and her tongue gently meets mine. It's the best kind of disoriented and I never want to think straight again. The hand of mine that's not on her cheek moves to her back and I press her soft body against mine until there's not a single inch between us. Through her soft lips, she whispers my name and I've never felt this type of rush before. She pulls away for a moment and I feel lost, like I'm swimming out in the middle of nowhere and when her mouth finds mine again, she's found me and anchored me to her. A vibration buzzes against the counter and the music stops and I had forgotten it was even playing. It's like I've lost the last few minutes of my life, but I never, ever want them back. I want to stay here, lost with her. But reality has other plans and Nora pulls away, taking the silence in my mind with her. She grabs her phone from the counter and swipes her finger across the green circle. I lean against the counter to steady myself and she apologizes and steps into the hallway. A few seconds of silence pass and I can hear her talking but I can't make out any of the words. Her voice gets louder and I force myself not to move closer to eavesdrop on her conversation. "I have to go," she says when she comes back into the room. "But I'll be back in the morning to help you decorate the cake. I'll wrap it up so it won't get stale," she moves across my kitchen and I notice the change in her demeanor. Her shoulders are slouched and every time I try to catch her eyes, she avoids mine. A thrumming rises in my chest. "Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask her. I decide in this moment that there are only a few things in this world that I wouldn't do for her. I know I'm insane and that I barely know her. I'm aware that it's hard to protect someone that won't allow you to. I'm also aware that I have a messy on and off relationship with someone else, but there's nothing I can do to go back now. I can't make the last few minutes disappear, and even if I could, I never would. "Everything is fine. I just have to go back to Lookout, my boss needs me," she says with a weak smile. I can see right through it. I stand in silence as she wraps saran wrap around the cake pan and grabs her shirt from the back of the chair. She tucks her tie into the back pocket of her black pants and walks to the entry of the kitchen. "Don't worry about those dishes, I'll get them in the morning," her eyes still won't meet mine and it makes my stomach hurt. I nod, not knowing what else to say. The bliss from our kiss is evaporating faster than I can blink and the endless questions I have for her are filling my head. "I'm sorry," she says and I truly feel like she means it. At least there's that. She disappears through the doorway and I stand still for a few minutes, recollecting every moment we just shared. From the sweet taste of her sugary kiss, to the desperation in her fingers as she clutched the fabric of my sweatshirt. The apartment is so silent, unlike my mind, and I turn on the sink and open the door to the dishwasher. I toss out the uneaten broccoli and put the olive oil back into the cabinet. By the time Tessa gets home, I'm still sitting in the kitchen, at the table. The dishes are clean and put away, and there's no trace of powdered sugar anywhere to be found. "Hey, what are you doing up?" Tessa unties her apron and lays it on the back of the chair. I look at the time on the stove. It's nearly one in the morning. "I don't know," I lie. She's having a hard enough time lately, I don't want to burden her with my problems, especially when I don't even understand them. Tessa looks at me and I can see the speculation in her eyes. She glances around the room and spots the cake on the counter. "Was Nora here?" she asks. I nod. "She came by for a little bit, then she got called back to work." My throat is dry as I explain. "Back to work? By who? I just left there and Robert and I were the last people there." I should be surprised by this, but I'm not. "I must have heard her wrong. How was work?" I change the subject and Tessa lets me.