He nodded and took a deep breath. “I think I was less nervous the first time I was deployed.” He waited for me to smile at this confession, but it was too serious to me for jokes. “There are thousands of colleges I could’ve gone to, Grace, but I came here because it had you.”
“What about two years ago?” I asked, my voice breaking slightly, and I turned away as I could feel my throat close up and the tears begin to form behind my eyes.
Noah sat up and leaned his forearms again his knees. His body was angled away from me, and I couldn’t see his face, only his profile. The skin seemed drawn tighter than usual against his jaw. “I went into the Marines when I was seventeen. I hadn’t ever lived a normal civilian life on my own. When I got out, I found out I had to apply for school, find an apartment, get a job. All the skills I had been taught as a Marine didn’t help in the civilian world.” He took a deep breath, and I wanted to hug him then and tell him he didn’t need to say another word. But he looked so tense I was afraid one touch would shatter him. I remained quiet and motionless, and he continued.
“I flew to Chicago and rented a car. I was going to surprise you, but when I drove up the North Shore to your home…” His voice trailed off. “Grace, you live behind a gate and the drive was so fucking long I couldn’t even see your house.”
I didn’t understand what my Uncle’s house had to do with anything so I stayed silent. This obviously frustrated Noah because he drew one hand through his hair, hair that I now knew was soft as my aunt’s mink coat.
“What?” I protested.
“You don’t even see how different that is. I grew up very poor. Maybe you got that from my letters and maybe you didn’t. But I was some grunt from the Marines and while I had saved money, it wasn’t anything like that. I couldn’t afford to buy you a house like that.”
“I don’t want a house like that.” The house itself wasn’t so bad, but the constant tension of watching your mother move around like a ghost and your aunt run down your best friend until she was afraid to eat was intolerable. I didn’t want to live in a house like that, ever.
“But you live a life completely different than mine,” Noah said. “Do you even know how much it costs to go to college here for one year?”
I didn’t know. I mean, I knew it was expensive, but Uncle Louis paid for my tuition and my apartment. And I was finally seeing where Noah was going with this.
“Ah, the light dawns,” he said, with a frustrated undertone. He had tilted his head so he could see me.
“So you didn’t want to meet me because you thought I was a snob?” I asked, frustrated myself.
“Okay, I was wrong. The light isn’t dawning. You’re just going down the wrong tunnel,” he sounded angry and a little bitter.
“You insulting me isn’t going to make me understand better.”
He threw up both hands in a defensive position. “I just wanted to meet you on equal terms so you didn’t feel sorry for me.”
“I never felt sorry for you! I always thought you were amazing and brave and—” I cast around for another word but failed. “Amazing.”
“I just needed some time,” Noah said, sounding resigned and tired.
“So here you are, all fixed up and feeling ‘equal,’ and I’m supposed to just be ready for you?” Our two years of separation was because he felt he wasn’t good enough? I wanted to cry at the injustice.
“No, you’ve always been perfect,” Noah protested.
“Well, I’m not. You have all these plans and goals, and I can’t even decide on a major.” I gestured toward his books on the desk.
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Your money or lack of it doesn’t matter to me,” I assured him.
“It should,” Noah’s face took on a grim cast. “My mom died because we didn’t have enough money.”
“You don’t know that Noah. You don’t know if she would’ve survived if she had better medical care. No one knows that for sure. You should’ve written me. Or met me and told me. I’d have waited or gone to college in San Diego,” I pointed out.
“Yes, well, none of those things really occurred to me back then. I told you I was screwed up.”
We were both breathing heavily as if we had engaged in a physical fight instead of just throwing a bunch of words back and forth. Noah blew out his breath and leaned toward me, one arm crossed over my body.
“I was tired of the war, the dust, the desert. Being back in San Diego as a civilian was weird. I missed the adrenaline high of always being alert. I started fighting in a gym and then working and taking classes, and when I was super busy, I felt more normal. The relaxation bit was difficult.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I, ah, had to talk to someone for a little while to try to get my head screwed on straight.”
I hadn’t really thought of this. Noah always seemed perfectly together in his letters, often making jokes. Even now he presented himself as this supremely confident male. I wanted to kick myself for being so self-absorbed and not truly understanding how difficult the transition from enlisted Marine to casual civilian must be for him.
“Grace, I want to be with you. I think you want to be with me. Can’t we put it all behind us and start new?” he pleaded softly.
I looked into his face, and I thought about the Noah I knew from his letters. He was funny, generous, and kind. I had fallen in love with him once, and I was halfway there now. I just didn’t know if he’d hurt me again.
“You make me nervous,” I confessed.
“A good nervous?”
“I’m not certain. I feel like,” I sat up, wanting him to understand me. “I’m not seeking any compliments here, but I feel like you’re out of my league.”
Noah laughed a little like I was joking.
“No, really, I mean it,” I said.
He re-arranged his face into a suitably serious expression, all hints of laughter erased. “What do you mean?”
“Noah, you’ve got it together. You’ve a plan. You’re headed somewhere, and I’m not. I can barely figure out what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone next year. You should be with someone like Lana.” I pushed my hands together, threading my fingers. “You fit.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?” he said angrily.
“It isn’t bullshit. It’s the natural rule of the universe that like attracts like.”
“There are many things wrong with your theory, Grace. It’s a good thing that you don’t plan on being a scientist. Who cares that you don’t have a major? What about magnetic poles drawing each other together? Where in the laws of crazy Grace universe does that actual scientific fact fall?”
I decided that Noah couldn’t actually hear me, so I laid it out for him. “I’m afraid that I’ll fall hard for you and that you’ll hurt me again. My insecurity would end up driving you nuts and embarrass me.” I looked down at my hands that were now clenched together. “While I may not know what I want to be, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be that girl.”
“Is your insecurity going to play itself out by you trying out other guys to make me jealous?” he demanded.
“What? No! I’m sure my issues would be more with the clinging and stalking. Maybe overtexting.”
Noah laid his hand over my clenched fingers. “Why don’t we try it out and see if I get fed up with that.”
“And then what?”
“Grace,” he brought his hand up behind my head and slid closer to me, forcing me to look at him. “You worry too much,” he observed. “You don’t have to have the answer for everything right now and today.”
“I hate uncertainty,” I whispered.
“I can tell,” he smiled softly. “Here’s what I know. I want to be with you tonight, tomorrow, and for the foreseeable future. Nothing you’ve said tonight scares me.”
“You should be scared. Didn’t you guys watch Fatal Attraction, or are you too young for that?”
“Every guy watches Fatal Attraction by the age of sixteen. There’s nudity in it.”
I hadn’t realized that Noah had been drawing me closer until I was cuddled up next to his chest. He feathered kisses along my temple and down my cheek. “Will you give me a try?”
“What about the laws of the universe?” I mumbled into the side of his shirt.
“Let’s pretend we’re magnets. Those fit pretty tightly according to the laws of the universe.”
“Don’t talk that upperclassman speech with me,” I joked.
“Feel free to text me all day. Include pictures and videos if you like,” Noah invited.
He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss against my lips. It may have been a goodnight kiss, but it felt more like a welcome. When his tongue swept lightly across my lips, I couldn’t help but part them in an invitation for more. When his tongue crept into my mouth, I greeted it with my own. My hands reached up to stroke the strands of his hair and mold them against the shape of his beautiful head.
His arms were braced on either side of my head, holding his body just slightly away from mine, and I could feel their tension vibrate next to me. I stroked my hands down the sides of his arms and felt the flex of muscle under my palm. No other part of his body touched mine, just open mouth kisses where he explored and tasted me like I was more delicious than a chocolate soufflé with homemade whipped cream.
He broke away from my mouth and trailed his lips across my jaw and down the side of my neck. The whispered breath, the scratch of his slight stubble, and the wetness of his tongue set my body’s nerves on end. I felt super sensitized, as if I could even feel the dust motes that drifted through the air. As his head drifted downward to nuzzle the expanse of skin above the collar of my T-shirt, my fingers delved into his hair once again. One arm braced at my side and his other moved downward. His hand stroked the skin on my leg, sweeping from the bottom of his borrowed boxers to my knee and up, just below my chest.
I wanted to rub against his touch like a cat, arching into his every stroke. I wanted him to touch me everywhere, and I moved restlessly, trying to position different unattended parts under his sweeping hand. But his movements stilled, and he rested his forehead in the curve of my shoulder. I could feel his breath coming in pants against my chest.
Uncertain now, I simply stroked his back. When the rhythm of his breath evened out, he said, “I’m trying to be a gentleman. I honestly didn’t invite you over today for this.”
The kissing and the touching had made me feel anxious and unfulfilled. I brought my legs together and squeezed, trying to alleviate the ache, but the motion only made Noah groan. He placed his hand on the top of one thigh and pressed hard.
“Please, don’t,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “If you move, I’ll…” His voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and pushed himself into a seated position next to me, one arm still caging me in. “I better go.”
I didn’t want him to. Maybe we weren’t quite ready for sex, even though my body screamed for it, but I wanted to sleep with him and feel his body next to mine during the entire night. I hadn’t ever slept with anyone other than Lana before.
I took a deep breath and made an offer I knew was dangerous. “You could sleep here with me,” I said softly. When he started to protest, I held up a hand. “Trust me to know my own feelings. Don’t assume you know what’s best for me.”
“Okay,” he said simply. He undressed without hesitation or embarrassment, and I enjoyed the show more than I thought I would. His shoulders were broad, and I could see definition in the faint light from the bathroom creating interesting shadows on his skin. The indentation of his spine was marked and looked like a perfect trail to explore with my fingers. A dark mark spotted his right shoulder. It was a tattoo, but I couldn’t make out the shape or form. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I’d explore it tomorrow. He stopped and left his boxers on, a tight-fitting cotton that extended to the tops of his thighs. I lifted the covers and scooted over, and he climbed in bed next to me. As we laid together side by side like two toddlers in a bed, I remembered one of the last letters I received from Noah.
Dear Grace,
My active duty enlistment will run out in two months. I can re-up, but it would be a longer commitment than I’m ready to give right now. There are good parts and bad parts to being enlisted. It’s hard to imagine leaving the guys. It’s hard to envision going back home.
When I was home on my last leave, it was like the world had become completely different than I’d remembered. I don’t ever remember having that feeling of disorientation after basic. It’s not just the weather or the terrain or the lack of people with robes in the streets. Or even seeing pavement where it’s usually just dirt. Or no longer worrying that next time I take a step it might be my last. Or maybe it is.