Here they were, in the same position. Chelsie had the same passionate look in her emerald eyes and Noah could almost envision waves crashing together at sea. There was no metaphor more perfect than that – Chelsie’s eyes were the ocean. Tranquil, yet turbulent. Vast and full of life. Mysterious.
Dangerous in the most beautiful way.
Chelsie leaned into him until their noses were touching. Her fingers disappeared underneath his shirt and she closed her eyes, her hot breath tickling his face. Noah ran his hand up the length of her arm and pulled her cardigan down over her shoulders. Raindrops dripped down her collarbone and onto her chest, then disappeared between her breasts. Her icy, wet hair was a stark contrast to the heat between them.
“Noah…”
His name was barely a whisper. Noah wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him until their groins were touching. She let out the tiniest moan and Noah sucked in a sharp breath.
“Noah,” she repeated. “Did you mean it?”
Noah knew exactly what she was referring to. He leaned in and moved her hair over her shoulder, kissing along her neck. She squirmed in his lap as he peppered kisses up to her ear, and then he whispered, “Yes.”
Chelsie froze, her body falling still. When she pulled back, her eyes were wide and dazed. Noah cupped her face in his hand, his thumb grazing over her cheek. She relaxed beneath his touch and moved forward, touching her lips to his. Chelsie breathed her reply against his mouth. “I love you, too.”
It was Noah’s turn to go still. His only logical response was to kiss her senseless, their bodies becoming a mess of entangled limbs and tongues. He pulled her arms out of her cardigan and yanked her tank top up over her head. Her hair sent a shower of raindrops over him, as her long locks fell back down. Chelsie leaned over and pulled at his belt buckle, her hands trembling as she tried to unlatch it. Noah attempted to unbutton her jeans with his good hand, but she pushed him aside and did it herself, sliding the denim down her legs and wriggling free.
Chelsie pushed up his shirt and pressed a delicate hand against his bandaged wounds. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. Noah wondered if her words had a double meaning.
She was sitting in his lap almost fully exposed. He’d be lying if he said he’d never imagined this moment before. Only, in his own fantasies he didn’t have multiple gunshot wounds and a defective arm. “You won’t,” he replied.
Chelsie leaned forward again, their mouths colliding, then reached down to situate him inside her. Noah’s head fell back against the couch when he entered her. Chelsie pressed her forehead against his and cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. Goddamn.
She was motionless. A heady potency wrapped itself around them as they clung to each other, each of them lost to the power of the moment – each of them utterly bewitched. It was a culmination of nearly a year’s worth of almosts, maybes, and if onlys. It was the pinnacle of the ultimate slow burn. It was a divine inevitability.
Chelsie finally began to move, her forehead still glued to Noah’s, as if she needed to feel every inch of him. He groaned, reveling in the way her body melted against his. Reveling in the sheer magic of it all. It was as if he was made for her. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he gently pulled her head back. “Look at me.” Her eyes. Noah needed to see her eyes.
Chelsie blinked her eyes open and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. The chemicals danced between them, flickering, sparking, exploding. Her cheeks were flushed, and her skin was warm and intoxicating. “Noah…”
Ohh. The sound of his name passing through her lips as she rocked against him, and as he was fully sheathed inside her – Jesus Christ. Noah kissed her hard. Recklessly. Fevered moans escaped her, and the sounds vibrated right through him. She picked up her pace, wrapping her fingers around the nape of his neck and squeezing tightly. Noah pulled back to speak. Not to breathe, or to regroup, or to collect his thoughts. He pulled back to speak the words that had been swelling, sweltering, inside him for months. “I fucking love you, Combs.”
Chelsie tensed in his arms and buried her face against his neck, letting out a primal gasp. He felt her shudder and peak. He felt her rise and fall like a tempestuous tide. He felt her break, and burn, and above all, surrender. Noah followed behind her and they rode out the waves together as Chelsie clutched to him. Her face remained concealed in the crook of his neck, her breathing low and heavy. Warm and comforting. Noah ran his hand up and down the curve of her back, which was slick from sweat and her wet hair. They stayed in that position for a while longer until their breaths became steady, and their heartbeats slowed from their frantic pace.
Chelsie poked her head up. “Wow.”
Wow, indeed. He smiled in reply. Noah glanced over her shoulder, realizing Sam could have interrupted them at any moment. He reached across the couch and grabbed the fleece blanket, draping it around Chelsie the best he could with one arm. A coy smile touched her lips. She took the blanket and wrapped herself up like a cocoon, while lifting herself off his lap. Noah instantly missed her warmth and envied the blanket that had replaced him.
Chelsie cleared her throat, sliding up next to him as he fumbled with his zipper. “So… that happened,” she said.
Noah looked at her and was relieved to see a twinkle in her eyes. Her hair was wild, and her face was pink and fully aglow. She didn’t seem to harbor any immediate regret. “I guess it did,” he replied, the curve of his own mouth twisting upward.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only noise around them being the soothing sounds of rainfall against the roof. Noah soaked up her presence, relishing in the feel of her warm body pressed against his side. This felt good. This felt right.
“Want to go upstairs?”
Chelsie’s voice penetrated his thoughts, and Noah glanced at her. She was looking up at him expectantly. “Bedroom?” he winked.
She ducked her head. “It might be more comfortable,” she acknowledged.
Noah grinned, then garnered the strength to pull himself up from the couch. Chelsie was at his side, one hand clasping her blanket together, and the other holding him steady. His journey up the staircase seemed painstakingly long compared to the usual trek. All he could think about was being inside her again.
When they reached the bedroom, Chelsie turned to face him and let go of the blanket. The moonlight brightened her milky skin, and Noah couldn’t help but stare in wonder.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
Chelsie replied by leaning up on her toes and planting a temperate kiss on his mouth. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor beside her feet. “You make me feel beautiful,” she whispered against his lips.
Noah lifted her up with one arm and walked her towards the bed, dropping her down with playful ease. He climbed over her. “You just make me feel.”
Her hair splayed out around her on the bedsheets, her eyes dancing with anticipation. “Make love to me, Noah Hayes.”
And he did. He couldn’t get enough of her. There was no reality in which he would ever get enough of her.
After they finally felt spent and satiated, Chelsie curled up beside him. Her head was resting on his shoulder and her fingers were drawing lazy designs across his chest. Noah held her close, concentrating on the way her skin felt against his, and burning it into his brain forever. He could get used to this.
“We’re, like… the perfect duet,” Noah told her, his hands combing through her knotted hair.
Chelsie’s fingers paused on his chest. “Duet?” she wondered.
Noah shrugged. “I’m a music guy, so that’s the first thing that came to mind. You know, when you hear this killer duet and you think, ‘shit, they go so well together’. That’s you and me.”
Chelsie seemed to consider this for a while. She was silent as she lay sprawled against him.
“Think we should get some shut-eye before the little man finds his way in here?” N
oah asked. He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I wish we could make this night last forever, but you know… dad life.”
She nodded into his chest. “I know.” Chelsie rolled off him and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Noah?”
Noah turned to face her, a pang of worry washing over him. Something had changed – the tone of her voice, her demeanor. The mood had shifted ever so slightly. He braced himself for what she might say. “Yeah, Combs?”
Chelsie reached her hand out and rested it on his cheek, her eyes wide and expressive. “Sam is so lucky to have you,” she said.
Noah took her hand and kissed it. “He’s lucky to have you, too. We both are.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Goodnight, Noah.”
“Goodnight.” Noah watched as Chelsie rolled over to face away from him, burying herself beneath the blankets. As he drifted off to sleep, he could have sworn he heard the faint sound of cries. Noah was so consumed with exhaustion, he was unsure of anything at that point, so he blamed it on the howling wind outside his window and drifted off to sleep.
Noah stretched out his arms the next morning with a content smile and reached over to the other side of the bed. He was eager to feel her warmth. When he opened his eyes, his bed lay empty and he found himself alone. Noah frowned and sat up, looking around the room in a sleep-filled daze. He wondered if she was in the bathroom until he spotted a note resting atop one of the pillows. His stomach sank. It took a moment for Noah to work up the courage to read it, so he let it sit there for a few minutes longer. He savored his final moments in a reality where Chelsie was still his.
Finally, Noah plucked the piece of green construction from off the pillow and sucked in a tremulous breath. His eyes scanned over the note, front and back. He analyzed every word with careful scrutiny. He studied the curve of her letters. He could still smell the ink. Noah envisioned her voice in his mind, reading to him with thoughtful reflection. He imagined the tears in her eyes as she put the pen to paper.
She couldn’t want this. How could she want this?
Noah grabbed his cell phone off the bedside table and dialed her number.
Straight to voicemail. All ten times.
His heart was shattering. His mind was racing. His stomach was sick. He reread the note over and over for the next hour until Sam came running into the bedroom, completely unaware Noah’s world was falling apart. He tried to make sense of it. He tore apart every letter, every syllable, every fucking dotted “i”. It was senseless. It was illogical. It was ludicrous.
And yet, it was. This was how the cards had fallen. Chelsie had made her choice. There was no going back in time – there was only moving forward. Step by step. Day by day.
Noah would get through this. Sam needed him to be strong. Sam needed him.
If only she knew how much he had needed her.
23 Chapter Twenty-Three
Chelsie awoke to the sound of giggles and Sunday morning cartoons. The mouth-watering aroma of homemade pancakes wafted through the air and made her sit up in bed with a dreamy sigh. She loved pancakes.
The sun was shining that morning, a gentle breeze floating in through the cracked window. Chelsie smiled when she spotted two lovebirds perched on a nearby branch. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, enjoying the feel of the plush rug beneath her bare feet.
“Breakfast is ready!”
Chelsie leaped up and threw a robe on over her nightgown. Nothing got her out of bed faster than pancakes.
“Good morning, sunshine. I thought you’d never wake up.”
Chelsie entered the kitchen with a mischievous grin on her face. “I couldn’t help that I was tired. Someone kept me up late last night.” She winked at the handsome man with a spatula in his hand.
“I cleared the table for you, Chelsie!”
Chelsie grinned and strolled over to the kitchen table decorated with butter, syrup, and fresh fruit. “You did a great job, Sam.”
Noah wandered up behind her and smacked her backside, then whirled her around to plant a kiss on her lips. “I missed you.”
“It’s only been six hours, you nut,” she teased. She wrapped her arms around his neck and accosted him with kisses.
He grinned. “That’s six hours of missing you.”
“Eww! Gross!” Sam contorted his face into a mask of horror at the display of affection. “Growed-ups are yucky.”
They both chuckled. Chelsie moved towards the table to take her seat, when she heard the distinct sound of music paying in the distance. She crinkled her nose. “Are you playing… U2?”
Noah looked at her like she had grown a second head. “I’m not playing any music, Chelsie. Why do you always think U2 is playing?”
Chelsie frowned. “I – I swear I hear it. Can’t you hear it?” The music grew louder, and she ran into Noah’s arms, shaking him as hard as she could. “Why can’t you hear it?”
“There’s no music, Chelsie. You need to wake up. It’s a beautiful day.” Chelsie put her hands over her ears and shook her head. “No, no, no…”
“… It’s a beautiful day… “
Chelsie shot up in her bed, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of her face. Her thoughts were disjointed, and her breaths unsteady. It took a few moments for her to gather her bearings. Chelsie blinked her eyes, her vision blurred and hazy with sleep. Inhaling deeply, Chelsie reached for her phone sitting on her nightstand and turned off her alarm clock, which was playing ‘Beautiful Day’ by U2.
1112 days. It had been 1112 days since Chelsie packed her entire life into a suitcase and drove twelve hundred miles to south Florida.
Well, not her entire life.
Chelsie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tossed her phone onto the bed covers. She hated that dream.
Her cat, Misty, hopped onto the bed and nuzzled against her. Chelsie took comfort in the one familiar thing she still had in her life. Not that her life was bad – on the contrary. It was just… different. So many things had changed. She had changed. That had been the whole point.
Chelsie often flashed back to that last night with Noah. It had been one of the best nights of her life. It had also been the most soul crushing. That night led her on a journey of self-discovery and healing, prompting her to leave everything behind and start all over. Chelsie had needed to mend a lot of things – mostly, herself, but also her relationship with her parents. She remembered leaving a note for Lisa, grabbing her cat, then hopping into her car and driving eighteen hours straight to St. Petersburg, Florida. She’d called her mother on the way down, hysterical and lost.
“I’m coming home, mama,” she had sobbed, silently praying for her parents to accept her back into their lives.
“I’ve been waiting years to hear you say that,” her mother had replied.
That was where her adventure had begun – a little beach house on the gulf shores outside of town. It was not an easy transition. There had been many sleepless nights. There had been times where she’d cried so hard, she’d made herself sick. There were moments when she had broken down and dialed Noah’s phone number, only to quickly hang up.
But then the days started getting a little brighter, and the nights a little easier. Chelsie began looking for work as a cocktail waitress, only to run into a person who would forever change her life – Elsa Cunningham. She was a counselor. She was a speaker. She was a voice for victims of domestic violence. Elsa was hope.
Elsa had taken Chelsie under her wing and helped her heal all her broken parts. She helped Chelsie move past the dark cloud that was Ian Masterson. Elsa helped Chelsie put her life back together, starting with herself.
“A healthy soul plays the biggest role,” Elsa had told her. “You will never find happiness if you are full of self-loathing. Find happiness within yourself – then you can find happiness with another.”
Chelsie had used those words to fuel her. Even though Chelsie had tried to hide from the media, there was no escaping the infamous name she had made for he
rself back in the ‘Freeze Frame’ days. At first, it felt like a curse that would follow her around indefinitely – until, one day, she decided to use her notoriety to her advantage.
With Elsa’s help, Chelsie created a foundation for domestic abuse survivors called ‘Chelsie’s Calling’. She helped heal the broken and damaged souls, much like Elsa had helped Chelsie. Within two years, they had raised the funds to build a sanctuary in nearby Safety Harbor. The sanctuary was created to take women in for healing retreats, which consisted of one-on-one counseling sessions, group therapy, meditation, spa treatments, yoga, and overall self-care. Chelsie had truly found her calling. Her mission had caught on quickly, and soon Chelsie was appearing on talk shows, podcasts, and even Ellen. Chelsie had used her fame for the greater good and it was inspiring.
Chelsie had started bringing in enough income to leave her parents’ house and rent an apartment down the street from her sanctuary. One of her greatest joys was sitting on her balcony with a cup of tea and chatting with her mother each morning.
Chelsie had turned her life around. She no longer felt toxic to herself and those around her. She no longer filled her mind with poisonous, self-sabotaging thoughts. Chelsie genuinely loved herself. She loved her new life, her work, her family, and her friends. She’d made a large and loyal social circle filled with positive and motivating individuals. Along with Elsa, her dear friends Maggie, June, Thomas, and Jon were all an important part of her happiness.
Jon had asked her out on a date one afternoon a few months back. He was cute and charming, with sandy hair and freckles on his cheeks. He had stopped her one day outside the sanctuary where he worked as a guidance counselor. “Chelsie! Wait up. I wanted to see if you’d like to grab coffee with me after work.”
Aria (Duet Series Book 1) Page 28
