Page 41 of Two Weeks to Fall in Love

Two Weeks to Destroy the Girl

“Do you maybe want to sleep over?”

I choked on the water I was drinking. Noah’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d said, his head instantly shaking.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. We have a guest room!” He waved his hands in the air frantically. “It’s just that, if you stay, we could do some more questions, maybe watch a movie. I don’t know, sorry, it was a dumb idea probably, I don’t know what I was—”

“I’ll stay,” I said before I could talk myself out of it, and then added, “In the guest room.”

Noah chuckled and nodded. His body seemed relaxed, but his reddening face told me he was just as embarrassed as I was. Though, to be fair, the red could have been from all the making out we’d been doing, up until this water break.

“Do you want to watch a movie first?” I said, clearing my throat. At least that would give us something to focus on other than each other.

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good. I could order some pizza.” He had his phone in his hand before I could even nod.

“That works. I’m okay with anything. Except pineapple, that does not belong on pizza,” I proclaimed, while taking out my own phone to text my mom.

I would actually have to lie to her because there was no way she would let me sleep over at Noah’s without previous conversation. Sleeping over at Melissa’s, on the other hand, would be just another weekend. Sorry, Mom .

“Oof, I think we have a problem, Fox.” Noah’s grave tone made me halt my typing.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Pineapple definitely belongs on pizza,” he said somberly, and I chuckled at how serious he was.

“It does not. It’s basically a dessert,” I countered, raising an eyebrow. Noah shook his head disapprovingly.

“Oh, Fox. Yeah, I don’t think this is gonna work. Should I call you an Uber or . . . ?” he deadpanned, trying to appear serious even though his lips were twitching.

I just threw one of the couch pillows at him and he burst out laughing. “The sacrifices I make for you.” He sighed, tapping on his phone.

“My hero,” I muttered in return, and he grinned into his phone.

We spent the rest of the evening on the couch, close but never really touching. One movie turned into two, with us taking turns suggesting what to watch next. The pizza came and a food coma followed.

And then, as the night grew darker, we moved closer until his arm, which was resting on the back of the couch, found its way to being wrapped around my shoulder. I leaned into him, my head landing on his chest as I did. We cuddled like that for what felt like an hour before I yawned.

“You tired?” he whispered into my ear, and a shudder ran through me.

“Nope.” I shook my head as I fought off another yawn that would very much invalidate that answer.

“Wanna do some questions? They could wake you up,” he said and I nodded eagerly. “All right. I guess we can do this one now that you know. What kind of relationship do you have with your mom?”

My heart did a little squeeze. I reached out and entwined my fingers with the hand that was hanging around my shoulder. Noah chuckled, noticing my little attempt at preemptive comfort and kissed the top of my head.

“It’s fine, that’s an easy answer for me. My mom is my hero. She’s always been my biggest support. She made our house a home. I’d do anything for her. I’d switch places with her in a heartbeat if I could,” he said calmly, no trace of that previous torture in his voice.

“I can see that. I can see how much you love her, and I’m sure she does as well,” I said, and he squeezed my hand in reply.

It was at that moment I finally understood why he was doing this—trying to find love on such a deadline.

Was it the morally right thing? I didn’t know.

But it didn’t matter. It was right for him, and no one could judge him for it until they found themselves in his situation—staring at the hopeless eyes of their mother as she counted down the days with fear and anxiety.

I suddenly realized how much being with Noah Archer had changed me.

How much having him in my life had altered it.

I used to be this warrior of justice. So convinced things were black and white and that lying was wrong, no matter the circumstance.

That if you were a good person you couldn’t do bad things. But things were never that simple.

Life was a rainbow, full of colorful circumstances, situations, feelings, and mistakes.

It was complex and beautiful. There was no straight line to right or wrong.

It was a winding road that took you through picturesque scenery and dark forests.

And that was fine. Especially if you had a hand to hold until the last stop of that infinite journey.

It could have been the influence of the boy next to me. Or maybe I was growing up. Slow. Flawed. Messy. But getting there.

I looked at him and caught him gently smiling at me.

“Ah, my mom. I think she wants us to be best friends, and I love her, I do, but some stuff I just . . . I stopped relying on her in a parental way a long time ago.”

“Did you try talking to her about it?”

“Not really. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Plus, I’m leaving for college next year,” I said with a shrug, letting out a sigh, and felt Noah nod against me.

His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “It’s worse to regret the things you never said than the things you did. Even if they hurt someone’s feelings, sometimes you need to break things to fix them, especially if they healed wrong.”

I looked up at him and frowned. “Is that supposed to be some ‘break eggs to make an omelet’ analogy?”

Noah chuckled and nuzzled the side of my head. “I just mean I think your mom would want to know how you feel. I know mine did.” His voice was like a gentle caress against my skin, even though his words hung heavy in the air.

Maybe he was right. I knew that if I didn’t talk to Mom before I went off to college, we would drift further apart.

It felt like there was this barrier of unspoken words between us and neither dared breach it.

I saw the guilt in her eyes when she looked at me sometimes, as if she could see the distance between our hearts.

It was part of the reason why I didn’t know how to talk to her about it.

I loved my mom, but the one who had truly raised me had been Grandma.

No amount of conversation could change that.

But maybe if we confronted it, that distance could lessen. Maybe we could heal.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said finally, voice clouded by sleep.

The movie was still playing in the background, and I tried to inconspicuously yawn. “Are we gonna do another?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure my brain could think anymore.

“Sure. What would your perfect day look like?” His voice was so soothing, like a lullaby whispered directly into my ear.

I tried my best to keep my eyes open as I answered, but they ended up closing against my will.

“Sun, ocean, beach. People I love around me. The weather is that perfect not too hot, not too cold temperature. There’s a light breeze in the air.

Everyone is laughing. Happy.” The scene played out behind my closed eyes as I described it.

My family was there. Lily. Melissa. And in the distance I could see someone with ocean-blue eyes and dark, messy hair walking into view.

“You,” I asked aloud, to both him and myself.

He didn’t answer instantly, staying quiet long enough for my mind to drift further into the image I’d created and further from our present hangout. The last thing I could remember, though at that point it could have just been a part of the dream as well, was three whispered words.

“Exactly like this.”

*

When I woke up, I was lying on a moving pillow. Only it wasn’t a pillow. I was sprawled on top of Noah, my head lying on his chest, and his arms loosely wrapped around me.

I tried to even out my breathing as Noah’s body kept rising and falling in that calm rhythm that made it clear he was still asleep. What was I supposed to do now? Did I just leave? Did I wake him up?

Realizing I had to do something other than continue lying on him like a beached whale, I started to wiggle out of his grasp. Before I could slip away, his arms slightly tightened around me and his breathing changed.

“Good morning,” he said huskily, sleep still apparent in his voice.

“Morning, yes, it is morning,” I mumbled awkwardly, finally feeling comfortable enough to just get up and off of him .

Noah chuckled and stretched, folding his arms under his head as he looked up at me. The picture of calm and relaxation. “Do you want coffee? Breakfast?”

“Ah, that sounds great but I think I really should be going home now.” Because my breath probably stinks and I need a shower and the way I’m feeling right now is both exciting and scary .

“Do you need a ride?” Noah seemed to be instantly wide awake, and moved into a sitting position.

I waved my hands and shook my head at the same time, trying to stop him from getting up. I needed to process everything, and that would require some fresh air and some distance from him.

“Nope, no, I’m good. I could use the walk, I promise.”

“Are you sure? Because I really don’t mind—”

“No, no, I’m sure, yes, very sure,” I said again, and moving backward for emphasis, grabbing my bag in the process.

Noah frowned, rubbing the back of his head in confusion. He was probably still partially asleep, and I couldn’t really blame the guy for being confused. I was confused.

“Anyway, last night was great. I’ll call you. Text you. Yup, I’ll text you later.”

“O-kay,” Noah replied, the head tilt relaying his ever-growing confusion.

I speed walked to the front door and then continued that brisk pace down the walkway and onto his street before I bent down with my hands on my knees and took a deep breath.

Inhale . Exhale . What the crap?