Page 63 of The Love Bus

TRUST

“I can’t believe you helicoptered out of the Grand Canyon today.” The notion was mindboggling in itself, even more so that he’d done that to be with me . “Was it scary?”

Noah paused, still holding the French fry he was about to put in his mouth, and gave me one of those smirk/smiles. “It wouldn’t have been nearly as fun if it weren’t at least a little scary.” He popped it in his mouth and then turned to me. “Have you ever been on one, a helicopter?”

“You saw how well I did on the airplane.”

“You did fine on the swing.”

Did I, though? “I guess…?” It kind of stunk, because I knew that I had been more adventurous before I settled down with Leo.

But it really didn’t matter. Because we were on a sightseeing tour with senior citizens, not an adventure tour.

I stole one of his fries and chewed thoughtfully.

Then I told him about the trail ride we’d taken while he’d been on his own little odyssey, showing him my pictures—one of them a selfie of me and my mule.

“Will you send me that one?”

We were both sitting cross-legged on the bed, side by side, flipping through photos on each other’s phones—trading snippets of our day like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks rather than a mere twenty-four hours.

“Only if you send me this one.” I held up one of him sitting in the helicopter, the canyon stretched out far below and behind him, painted in desert pinks, oranges, and blues.

I looked at the photo again—his hair windswept, his smile uneven, and the entire world unfolding behind him. “God, there’s so much more to see.” It came out more wistful than I’d thought it would.

The trip was winding down. Which meant we would be winding down too. Just a few days left. I felt that clock ticking again, louder than it had before.

Then my phone buzzed.

Noah stilled beside me and then handed it over without comment. Something about the way his jaw tightened told me who it was before I saw the name.

Up until this point, I’d been ignoring Leo’s calls and texts. If something were wrong at home, Ashley would tell me. I didn’t answer. Just hit decline and tossed the phone onto the bed.

But the damage was done.

Nothing like a call from your ex to bring down the mood. It was a jarring reminder.

For both of us.

Noah shifted. “I can go,” he said, his voice cautious. “If you want to talk to him…”

He glanced away, then right back at me. And it still surprised me, to see him looking uncertain. Just a hint and only for a fraction of a second, but it was there.

“I don’t want to talk to him,” I said quickly.

He nodded, once, but his shoulders stayed rigid.

“Does he…want to get back together?” His question wasn’t accusatory. It was just…cautious.

“I don’t know.” I winced. “If he does, it doesn’t matter. Because I don’t want to talk to him.”

Noah might have relaxed a little, but the set of his shoulders, and a motionless tension in his spine showed he was still bracing to leave.

And I really didn’t want him to leave.

What we had was still so new… It was tender. I didn’t want issues with my break-up to come along like a late frost and ruin everything.

Noah exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “He’s not good enough for you.”

I blinked. That? I hadn’t expected it.

He must’ve seen it in my face—my disbelief. Shock. And then…doubt.

Had I settled when I’d gone all in on a relationship with Leo? He’d been stable, but also creative, and I remembered thinking what an impossible combination that was, how amazing he was. But…

Had I only seen what he wanted me to see? How much of it had even been real?

“You know,” Noah added, with that small, crooked smile, “there’s a lesser-known rule that applies to flings—that you can also be friends. And friends can talk about…whatever.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You don’t mind?”

He tilted his head. “Would either of us be here if we hadn’t gone through those breakups?”

And by here, I was pretty sure he meant this trip, but also… here here. As in, be the people we were.

I didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the picture still glowing on his screen.

“Probably not,” I said.

“No,” he agreed softly.

I took a breath. “I’m sure you already know this—from your marriage—but I imagined my entire future with Leo.

Every part of it. I’d woven him into everything—where we lived, what we ate.

” My throat tightened. “I built my career around him. My identity. My whole life. And when that thread got pulled... the whole tapestry unraveled.”

Noah didn’t speak. He just listened, with that careful, steady focus I still wasn’t used to.

When I finally trailed off, he dipped his chin. “You feel like you built an entire recipe around one rancid ingredient.”

I let out a breath of almost-laughter. “Exactly.”

Leo had been that ingredient. The rotten egg I’d cracked directly into the batter instead of testing first. Mixed in with blind optimism. Baked. Consumed. And once the taste turned foul, there was no undoing it.

“From the beginning, Leo seemed so...grown up. Stable. Whereas I was just trying to find my way in the restaurant world.” I stared down at my hands.

“He followed all the rules. Did everything the proper way, like he was checking boxes—and he wore it like a badge. But he loved the same things I loved. Or at least, it seemed like he did. That’s probably why I kept giving him the benefit of the doubt. ”

I paused, my voice catching slightly. “And I think...part of me believed it was what I was supposed to want. What my parents wanted for me. Someone safe. Steady. Settled.” I gave a small shake of my head. “So, I ignored a lot of things I shouldn’t have. Because it should have been right.”

“But it wasn’t,” Noah said softly.

“No. And now...I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Noah nodded again. “You trusted him.”

I swallowed. “I trusted myself.”

“And now you don’t?”

I didn’t answer right away. Because his question cut closer than I wanted to admit. Leo hadn’t just hurt me—I’d let myself believe the lie.

Noah waited patiently and finally asked, “Is that why you don’t want to talk to him?”

“Maybe?” I answered. And then, “What about you. Do you trust yourself?”

Noah blinked and then winced a little. And more than anything, I really wanted to hear his answer. “That’s…a good question.”

Without realizing it, I found myself holding Noah’s hand. Not in a clutching, fingers threaded sort of way, but in a comfortable sort of way.

“Courtney and I met in med school—studied together—kind of…bonded? But once we got engaged, she walked away from it, and I just…let her. When she realized I wasn’t ready to start a family yet, she went to work with my mom.

” Noah scrubbed at the not-quite-a-beard scruff around his chin and jaw, then let out a heavy sigh.

“And after that, I was just so overwhelmed all the time.

I was never enough. It was…exhausting, and looking back, I became a giant ass.

“So…do I trust myself?” He shook his head in an almost unnoticeable movement, more something that seemed unconscious than a direct answer.

“These were big choices. Life-altering. And look where they got us. I got married because… I don’t even know—it seemed like the thing to do?

But in hindsight, I wasn’t ready. In so many ways.

And I never should have just let her quit school like that. ”

“But she made the decision, didn’t she? To quit school?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Mmm. What about at work? Do you trust yourself there?” I had a feeling that this was the more sensitive subject, and when he didn’t answer right away… well. Yeah.

“In the ER, you have to trust yourself. One hundred percent,” he finally said, but then he winced. “Even if you’re wrong.”

“No one is right all the time.”

Noah searched my eyes with an intensity I tried to match.

Until he finally exhaled. “So… Mistakes. Just part of life, eh?”

He wasn’t talking about just himself anymore.

“I guess so.” I dipped a fry in ketchup and held it up to his mouth. Noah snagged it with his teeth, moved the tray off the bed, and then crawled back onto it with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Is this a mistake?” I wasn’t sure why I asked.

“Do you think it is?”

“No.” Even if it was, I didn’t care. I was willing to live with the consequences.

“So, you do trust yourself.” His voice was low.

I blinked. Because yeah. With Noah, I did. “I guess so,” I laughed.

“Good.” He tilted his head and then I watched as a wicked gleam flickered in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

His focus was all on me now—sharp, hungry, deliberate.

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” Noah’s hands slid up my thighs as he moved closer, his touch warm through the thin fabric of my shorts. “Because you and I have some unfinished business,” he murmured, his voice low, rough.

Before I could answer, he leaned in and devoured my mouth—slow at first, then deeper, like he was savoring every second. And this kiss, it left me dizzy with want.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine again, like he needed to be sure I was right there with him.

I was.

He slid my shorts down my legs. Heady from his knuckles grazing my skin, I shifted. My pulse quickened as he gently urged my legs apart.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered.

My breath hitched, and I nodded, unable to form words.

Noah kissed his way down my body, slow and deliberate, pausing to sprinkle kisses around my belly button, and then my hip bones.

Then lower.

His hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wider, holding them open, at first just staring at me. “So damn pretty.” And then his mouth found me.

“Oh…” That’s as far as I got because the first touch of his tongue was too much and not enough at the same time. Soft. Teasing. Unhurried.

Then one long slow stroke made my hips jerk.

“Noahhhhh….”

He hummed against me, as if he was already satisfied by my response. But then he did it again. And again. Each time more focused, more purposeful.

My fingers tightened in his hair, and I garbled out a sound of something that could only be described as needy desperation.

Because I was.

Needy.

And desperate.

Noah’s grip on my thighs tightened, holding me exactly where he wanted me, anchoring me as his tongue moved in slow, devastating circles.

And that’s when I felt it.

Outside the bedroom, I couldn’t let myself be controlled.

But here—right here—I was more than willing to let him take over.

To let him ruin me in the best possible way.

He alternated pressure and pace, coaxing me closer, reading every shift of my body, every breathless moan, every arch of my hips like a man fully in charge. He was all in to undo me.

The heat built fast, tightening, spiraling until my whole body trembled.

When I shattered, I clung to him, gasping his name, my entire world narrowing to the pleasure he’d so thoroughly, so completely, given me.

And when Noah kissed his way back up my body, I felt him trembling too, his breathing as ragged as mine. He cupped my cheek, smiling as his forehead rested against mine.

“Definitely not a mistake,” he whispered.

Even if it was, it was the best mistake I ever made.

Much later—both of us undressed again, sweaty, and me pretty boneless—I thought we’d sleep.

Instead, we talked.

About our best memories from high school—and our worst. First kisses. First cars. First jobs…

Our best meals. His unfortunate habit of biting pens and mine of biting my nails when I got stressed.

He told me he briefly considered quitting med school to be a travel photographer.

I told him I once submitted a photo of my grandma’s lasagna to Food & Wine under a fake name.

We curled toward each other on the bed, legs tangled, fries forgotten, a movie playing in the background.

I didn’t even remember falling asleep.

So, when morning finally came, I wasn’t ready for it.

But the gorgeous man staring down at me? Entirely too cheerful for such an early hour. Of course, he was already showered, dressed, and fully functioning.

“Rise and shine, Faraday.”

I winced as he opened the drapes, sunlight spilling across the bed. “How do you look so cheerful on practically no sleep?”

“Practice,” he said, flashing that maddening grin. “Years of it.”

Right. Emergency room shifts. The kind where forty-eight hours without sleep was practically routine for him.

I groaned and flopped back against the pillows. “Coffee. I need coffee.”

“Already on it.” He handed me a large cardboard cup, and I took a moment just to breathe in the smell of cheap hotel coffee before taking a sip.

It had the perfect balance of cream and sugar, exactly how I liked it.

Noah remembered. And honestly, that might’ve done more to wake me up than the caffeine itself.

“I don’t think the bus is leaving until ten,” I said, hoping we had a few hours to ease into the day.

“We’re not meeting the bus this morning.” His eyes gleamed, a little too pleased with himself. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” I couldn’t hide the doubt in my voice, which, of course, he picked up on.

“Only if you want to.”

I took another sip of that exquisite coffee and then nodded. There were just a few more days on this trip, and I suddenly didn’t want to waste a single minute.

“All right then. What should I wear?”