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I t’s dark when I wake with a gasp stealing air from my lungs, thunder skittering across the sky. As my bedroom walls shake in unison with the rumbling, awareness seeps in, slow and steady like crappy drip coffee.

“He loves me.” The words light me up, but all too soon it dawns on me that he’s not here, and fear replaces the joy.

Willing myself not to panic, I close my eyes and for some ungodly reason, picture Jane Eyre, fooling herself into believing she’s tamed Mr. Rochester then finding he has a crazy-ass bride hidden in the attic. Granted, waking to find my bed Noah-less is a slightly dramatic comparison, but still.

Another crack rattles my room, the blinding light accompanying it exposes those threatening to splinter my heart.

“This is ridiculous and can only end badly.”

Deep down beneath the layer of fluffy daydreams and swoon, I suspect Claire is right. No, she’s definitely right, and a disaster exit plan needs to be formed. But then I hear the familiar creak of the loose floorboard outside my door, and another source of light permeates the space. “Lotte. Are you awake?”

He’s here.

A second later he’s beside me, wrapping my legs around his, melting into me. “I didn’t want to wake you, but Quinn and I ordered some food. Do you want to eat?”

“I want something,” I moan, rolling to lay atop him, “but food is not it.” In case he missed the hint, I pull my tee over my head, cusp his perfectly defined chin in my palm, lean down and kiss him. He tastes like chocolate and Dr Pepper, and I don’t think I could ever find anything more perfect. “Make love to me, Noah.”

The way we come together is unlike any other time. It’s slow and tender, each move considered. Deliberate. Clothing is discarded and every inch of my body is tasted. Every muscle of his worshiped.

“I love you so much,” he whispers as I rest my palms against his golden, firm chest and slide down his cock, inch by inch he fills me so completely I can’t imagine ever feeling this whole again. Ever existing without him being part of me. Outside the storm rages on, but it’s of little concern to me. I’m too consumed by Noah’s touch, by how he moans I love you, with each roll of my hips. His hands are in my hair, on my face, my breasts and all I can smell, touch and taste, is him. The first climax rips through me so suddenly I think I may have dreamed it, but then Noah splays his hand over the small of my back and flips us. This, us, is so very real and he fits so perfectly between my legs like he was made to slide between them.

“Look how good we fit together, Lotte,” he says, stealing my thoughts as he pounds back inside, all traces of gentleness are a mere memory, “You’re perfect. We’re perfect.” Never before had I felt remotely close to perfection, but the clarity in Noah’s eyes and the certainty in his voice makes me a believer.

I close my eyes and arch my back, taking him deeper and deeper, soaring higher and higher. Perhaps it’s that, the navigated altitudes he carries me to is why I lose my head and gasp out the very thing I shouldn’t. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, Noah. I can’t ever say goodbye.”

Remorse hits, jolting my eyes open, fear replacing ecstasy. But Noah stiffens above me, “Lotte,” he curses then cums inside me, again and again until he collapses against my chest, a sweaty, sated mess. “I’ll never let you.”

Doing the walk of shame in my own apartment is new, but so many things in my life are, I do my best to pull it off with a casual indifference I most certainly don’t feel.

“Hungry?” Quinn, who has half a wheel of cheese sitting on her chin, smirks. She’s hovering over two pizza boxes that almost cover my little dining table.

“Yes. Thank you, I am, actually.” Stealing a disappointingly cold slice, I fold my legs beneath myself and sit on the padded chair Noah pulled out for me.

Quinn is still smirking. “So, apart from all the sex, what’s been happening?” she asks.

Confident I can wipe the smile from her dial, I drop some facts I know she’s not expecting. “Noah and I confessed we love each other in front of Claire who is, of course, furious and may never speak to me again. I’m thinking of switching back to Psych,” Noah chokes on his pepperoni. That one caught even him off guard, “and Professor Carole may be my father. Can you pass the Parmesan?”

There’s no movement from either of them for what feels like an eternity, but was only long enough for me to swallow down three large bites of cheesy goodness.

The first to move is Quinn, and all she can manage is to drop her pizza into her lap. “Let’s back track a little. Carole may be your dad?”

“Seems so.”

“And you’re leaving me alone with him in Econ?”

“Possibly, yes.”

“And you and Noah are in love?” That last one is squealed around three octaves higher than the previous as she winks to Noah. I have the feeling they’ve been talking but I’m too happy to be bothered.

“All true.”

Moving faster than I can account for, Quinn slides from her seat and almost knocks me from mine, so ferocious is the tackle/hug she lays. “Get in here, Big Fella.” Her right arm is extended to Noah, who still looks a little dazed. He accepts it though, and is promptly folded into the cuddle. “I’m so happy for you guys … Mostly.” No one needs to guess what that refers to. “We need to celebrate.”

“I think you’ve done quite enough celebrating recently.” Noah mutters against her shoulder, “Your liver would agree.”

“Hey.” Pulling herself free, Quinn pouts, then throws the Parmesan at me.

“Why did you throw that at me? I didn’t say anything about your newly acquired quasi alcoholism.”

Noah and I high five and Quinn continues to pout. “I’ve had a lot going on.”

“So has my beautiful girlfriend, but you don’t see her downing a 40oz for dessert.” My beautiful girlfriend? I will never be over that. With all my might I will myself to remain upright. “Maybe you and Troye need to take a break.” There’s a slight edge to Noah’s tone. One reminiscent of his sister.

Reminiscent of me, Quinn fires up in return, “A break from each other, or from drinking?”

Again Noah’s unmistakably snarky “Maybe both.”

“Yeah,” The remaining pizza bounces from the box and into the air as Quinn slaps her hands against the table and pushes out of her chair. “Well maybe you should both mind your own business, and blow it out your ass.”

As far as social conventions go, I may have come leaps and bounds in recent times, but inserting myself between two stubborn, raging bulls while armed with a red-flag, feels beyond me. Especially when I can see both points of view. Noah does seem genetically incapable of butting out, while Quinn has been sitting in the sidecar on Troye’s recent ride to the wild side.

Two of the most important people in my life continue to bicker and me playing peacekeeper seems impossible. Perhaps I need to create a diversion. Another bombshell would do nicely. “If I do go back to Psych, I could transfer to USF.”

Time slows. All air is sucked from the room as Quinn and Noah spin to face me, mouths agape.

“You’d come with me, Lotte?”

“You’d leave me, Lotte?”

Shit. I didn’t think this through.

I can feel the color drain from my face as panic sets in. “I don’t know why I said that.” Though, schlepping my ass to South Florida University did come flying from my mouth rather quickly. Perhaps the idea was already there, floating deep within my subconscious. “Let’s forget it, and begin working on the fundraiser. Yeah, let’s do that.”

An almost disturbing chuckle rattles from Noah’s chest as he reaches out and drags my chair to his side. “No way Little D. You can’t put that out there and move on.” He then picks his chair off the floor and straddles it reverse cowgirl, or cowboy, style. “Would you really consider coming with me?”

“Would you want me to come with you?”

Pink velour gathers beneath his fingers as his grip turns white knuckle, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to answer a question with a question?”

“No. Never.”

I’m vaguely aware of Quinn mumbling something about being a third wheel, but I can’t focus on her when Noah Petterson’s puppy dog eyes are trained on me, close to tearing up, and undressing me all at the same time.

“Come on, Lot. Put me out of my misery. Please just tell me. Would you consider it?”

Like the lightning that lit the skies such a short time ago, scenes of a Noah-less life flash before my eyes. No more watching him carve up the ice. No more watching him, watching me make coffee. No holding hands in Doctor’s offices. No more thunderstorms spent twisted in bed sheets.

“Yes.”