Breaking the Rules

  “Never been more serious in my life.”

  Echo

  My mind spins. Noah’s promising me everything I’ve ever fantasized about. He’s encouraging me to chase my dreams and will stand by me...at least emotionally. This, for Noah, is epic.

  Like the last time we visited here, the evening is closing in around us. The night sky is fading into orange and reds. Soon, the shadows will overtake us, but this time, the darkness doesn’t frighten me. Just because I may not be able to see Noah, it doesn’t mean that he’s not beside me.

  My fingers slide along his cheek, and I relish the way his stubble sweetly scratches my palm. I craved more, and Noah’s given me more.

  Noah tilts his head into my touch. He also feels this connection...this magnetic force calling us home.

  Home.

  Noah’s become a man and has built us a home. Not a structure. Not a physical place to lay our heads, but a home in the sense that it completely matters...we belong to each other.

  I inch higher on my toes. Noah begins to lean down to me, but I don’t want him reaching for me. I need to be the one who kisses him first. To be the one that starts the first night that begins without the baggage I’ve been carrying.

  Before Noah has a chance to lead, I brush my mouth against his and slip my tongue between the part of his lips. Noah immediately fists my hair, and the gentle pull sends shivers through my bloodstream.

  I inhale, and Noah’s spicy scent fills my lungs, and it’s intoxicating. Hands roam, cooler air pricks at my skin, and the pads of my fingertips skim above the goose bumps rising on his back.

  The wind whips through my hair, stinging me and evidently stinging Noah as his strong hand smoothes back the curls and he begins this slow, seductive descent of kisses along my jawline and down my neck.

  My body cries for more and arches into him, but I drove here for a reason. With a hand on Noah’s chest and a lot of willpower, I ease back. “I want to jump.”

  It’s like watching a train speeding at two hundred miles per hour slam on the brakes, and I stifle a giggle as Noah attempts to switch gears. He’s totally disheveled thanks to my exploring. His hair completely mussed. His shirt hitched up on one side, exposing the muscles of his abs. “What?”

  “Hunter said I wasn’t a risk-taker, and I am. He said that I should wear long sleeves to hide my scars because it would be easier. I don’t want easy because I know I’m strong. I went on this trip with you, and I’ve begged gallery owner after gallery owner to give me a chance, and I told Hunter his paintings sucked twice.”

  Noah laughs, and the smile on my face grows. He hitches a finger in the loop of my jean cut offs and draws me near. “That’s my girl.”

  His girl. My cheeks warm with a bit of shyness and joyous embarrassment. His girl. “Your girl wants to jump off this ledge into a pool of water.”

  Noah peers over. “Know what I see when I look down?”

  “Water?” I grin way too wide and innocently.

  “Rocks,” he answers as his other hand claims my waist. “Sharp rocks.”

  “What happened to Noah Hutchins—thrill-seeker, rush-finder, willing to do whatever?”

  I meant to make him smile, but the opposite happens. His face falls, and his hold on me tightens. “I thought I messed us up, Echo. Beyond repair and the thought of not being with you anymore...” He briefly closes his eyes and swallows. “I’m not anxious to watch you jump toward rocks.”

  I reach around and link his hands with mine then swing them at our sides. “What if we jump together? You can scare the bad rocks away.”

  Half of his mouth tips up. “What’s the deal, baby? Why this? Why now? You don’t need to do this to prove anything to anybody.”

  Ugh...and that would be the reason why. “I want to jump. To prove it to me. Not to Hunter. Not to you. Not to anyone else. I’m sort of mad at myself. I spent an entire summer trying to prove that I had talent by waiting for someone else to tell me that I did. That I was someone separate from my mother and you know where it got me? Right back where I started. With her in my face.”

  Noah scratches the stubble and seems to be weighing his words. “What’s that have to do with jumping?”

  “Because she wouldn’t have jumped.”

  When Noah raises a questioning eyebrow, I push forward. “Mom wasn’t the type that would have left an art gallery. She made every decision about her life based on her art—a showing came first over dance recitals or kindergarten orientation. Her number one most stated reason for coming off her meds was because they supposedly killed her creativity.

  “She came off in order to create, and she almost killed me, and she has yet to say she’s sorry. If I go to this showing, she’ll be there, and I’ll have to face her again so I need to jump. I need to know, when I’m standing face-to-face with Mom, that I’m not her. That I realize there’s more to life than a job.”

  “You’re not her,” says Noah.

  “I know that,” I answer honestly. “I know that now, but sometimes a girl has to jump.” I stare at the ground and nudge a pebble. “And I’d like you to jump with me—and before you say no, you already promised you would.”

  “I did.”

  Because I have this problem with not stopping while I’m ahead... “And as I explained in the note that you obviously didn’t read, I’d like you to be with me, by my side, when I go to the showing in Denver and when I see Mom. I realized that...you’ve always supported me. You left Louisville, your brothers, Isaiah and Beth, your home and family to follow me. You’ve always supported me, and I’m being selfish and asking you to support me some more. Please be with me in Denver.”

  A shadow crosses Noah’s face, and my heart plummets. “I know that you’ll have to miss Jacob and Tyler’s game, and that makes me feel awful, but this means a lot to me, Noah, and—”

  “You’re asking me to come with you to Denver for when you see your mom?”

  Aw, crap. Here I thought we were doing well. I shift my footing. “I also told you to come here. I was going to set up camp and be waiting for you and everything...you know, to surprise you. I found out that a bus was leaving Vail for here an hour after I left and—”

  Noah’s hands fly up and cup my face, and I snap my mouth shut because if I tried to continue it’d be this weird muted mumble.

  His dark eyes flare with unwavering intensity. “You left a note asking me to come here then to be with you when you meet with your mom?”

  I nod, but it’s more of a centimeter since he still has control over my head.

  “Echo Emerson...” Noah moves into me. His feet brush mine and so do many other amazing parts of him. “I love you.”

  Not the reaction I was expecting, but one I’ll definitely take. “So you’ll come?” It comes out garbled, but he seems to understand.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “But your brothers—”

  Noah glides his thumb over my lips. “I made a promise to you, Echo. Months ago in that hospital room and the night we made love. I’ve been waiting for you to let me keep it.”

  He’s so near that I lick my lips, waiting for him to kiss me. Begging for him to kiss me. Thinking I’m going to combust if he doesn’t kiss me. But with one inhale, Noah steps back and grips my hand. “Ready to get wet?”

  “Definitely.”

  With my fingers safely locked in his, Noah and I jump.

  Noah

  It’s midnight, and Echo’s hair is still damp from our swim. Back in Vail, Echo sits beside me on the curb under a streetlight and stares at the broken-down house my mother grew up in. The grass is taller. The windows no less cracked. The house no less decayed.

  Echo’s been silent, listening to me download the conversation with my uncle. All the truths that I thought I knew and all
the truths I know now.

  As I finish recounting every word that was said, Echo reaches over and presses her hand over mine. “I’m sorry, Noah.”

  “It’s okay.” It’s not, and the sad softness in her eyes tells me that what happened to my mom isn’t okay, but she believes that I will be. Hell, for the first time in my life I believe I’m going to be okay, too.

  The moment Echo and I finished playing in the water, I pulled Echo out and brought her here. Tonight was evidently about spilling our guts. Taking what was the most raw and broken inside us and offering it to the other as a show of what we can’t heal on our own. It’s the most simple and heartbreaking of vulnerabilities...to admit that you need someone else.

  I need Echo.

  She needs me.

  Together we’re in love.

  “Are you going to reach out to them, then?” Echo asks quietly. “Your mother’s parents?”

  “No. I’m pissed at Mom for not telling me about them, but I understand why she didn’t. In this case no family is definitely better than a bad one.”

  “And your uncle?”

  I glance over at the church, and a light shines in the rectory. The curtain in the window moves as if someone was there and now doesn’t want to be seen. “Yeah. Him I’ll reach out to. I don’t agree with his choice, but that’s a case of keeping bad family with a shot at redemption.”

  “You’re not alone.” Echo scoots closer to me and rests her head on my shoulder. “You have your brothers and you have me, Beth and Isaiah.”

  My lips turn up at the thought of Isaiah returning the car to that prick Hunter. I drove Echo’s car back while Isaiah did his best to wear the engine out on Hunter’s. “That’s a damn good family to have.”

  “It is,” she agrees. “Makes you realize that home isn’t a place, doesn’t it? That it’s all about the people.”

  It’s like Echo flipped on a light in my mind. This building in front of me—it’s not a home. Never was and never will be. I stand and offer my hand to Echo. “Let’s go home.”

  Echo’s mouth curves into that sexy siren smile that has owned me since the first day she flashed it in my direction. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the hotel, not Kentucky.”

  “As you said, it’s the people, baby, not the place. And where I belong is with you and a lot less clothes.”

  Echo accepts my hand with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Then let’s go.”

  Echo

  Every time Noah and I have entered a hotel room this summer, a cocoon of nerves has formed in my stomach, and the moment his lips touched mine, millions of butterflies have spread their wings and flown in this fast race of nervous adrenaline and lust.

  But tonight...it’s different.

  Noah’s different.

  I’m different.

  Together...we’re different.

  Noah shuts the door behind him, and the click becomes this familiar sound that causes me to smile. Noah struts past, and the quick sweep of my body tells me he’s already devoured me in eight different ways in his mind. Just guessing his fantasies, my body temperature peaks. Heat gathers in every single delicious right area.

  We left Louisville with two high school diplomas, a couple hundred dollars in cash and a lot of faith that we’d survive the summer. I left a girl, and he left a boy in a man’s body. This person in front of me, he’s no longer a boy, he’s fully a man.

  It’s what I wanted for the summer...to change. I did change, but not in any of the ways I imagined. I changed in ways far better.

  Noah’s phone pings, and he slips it out of his back pocket. He reads a message, and with a smirk he types something in return. “Isaiah and Beth are in for the night.”

  “Tell him thanks for me. Beth, too.”

  He drops the phone onto the bedside table, pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the ground, divulging each and every gorgeous ripped-out ab muscle. “Already have.”

  Noah sinks onto the bed, and the expectant look in his eye tells me that he’s ready for me to join him. I’m ready, too. Standing a foot from him, I slide off my shirt, and his eyes darken with the movement. It’s not the first time I’ve done this in front of him, but the rest of it is new.

  There’s an undercurrent of excitement in my belly. With a flick of a button, I shimmy off my cutoffs, with a lot less grace than desired, and leave on my bra and underwear. I hope that he enjoys whatever little show I put on, but more important, I love what Noah sees as I strip—the girl he fell in love with...the girl who loves him.

  Before walking over to him, I study my scars, and what unnerves me is that the flash of disgust is missing. When it comes to the scars, there’s nothing lurking. No hidden hate. No surge of embarrassment. No sadness. There’s nothing more, either. No giddiness. No awe, but I’m okay with that. It’s just an acknowledgement. A presence.

  I glance up at Noah. “They don’t bother me. Not now, at least.” Hopefully, not ever again.

  Noah stands and takes my hands, stretching my arms out in front of me. “Can I show you something?”

  I nod, curious about why Noah’s pushed pause when we’re so close to naked and in bed. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he brings us over to the mirror. Then from behind me, he gently flips over my arms to reveal the scars and he brings my arms together as if I was shielding myself. “Do you see it?”

  “See what?”

  “How you fell.”

  My eyes shoot straight to my scars, and my heart pounds so quickly that it skips beats.

  Noah swipes his thumb over the pulse point on my wrist. “Easy, baby. Just take it slow.”

  I breathe in, and Noah exhales along with me. Releasing one of my hands, Noah traces one finger along a scar on my right arm then connects that scar directly to the one on the left.

  “This one must have been the deepest,” he says gently. “It’s the longest, too. There are some that don’t connect, but these...” Another slow caress against my skin, then another highlighting of areas. “They’re the same cut. You must have brought your arms up to shield yourself.”

  My mouth dries out and like the constellations in the sky, I notice how the lines connect, how a gut reaction probably saved my life. I prevented those sharp pieces of glass from piercing my lungs, my heart.

  “Do they ever bother you?” I ask.

  Noah draws my arm toward his lips. “Never.”

  Letting him handle my weight, I lean back against Noah. I stare at our image in the mirror and see two people who love each other very much and will do anything to help heal old wounds.

  There’s an intimacy in this moment, and it’s not the kind I originally thought we would share when we first walked in. It’s a better type. The kind that lasts. “What if I said I just need you to hold me tonight?”

  “I’d say that I could do that every night for the rest of my life and die a happy man.”

  Noah takes my hand and leads me to the bed. “There’s something else I’d like to tell you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “My mom named me Noah for a reason.”

  With my head on his chest and our arms and legs tangled, I close my eyes and listen to Noah recall the rest of what his uncle had to say. I smile with the newfound hope in his voice. Noah was his mother’s second chance, and I wonder if he knows that he’s also my second chance at happiness.

  I cuddle closer to him and rest, knowing that Noah is mine.

  Noah

  “I’m going to take a shower.” Echo blows me a kiss then grabs her robe.

  I sit at the desk and wait for Echo’s laptop to boot. We checked in an hour ago at the hotel in Denver, Colorado. Beth and Isaiah left five minutes ago to scout out what trouble they could find since we’re in the heart of the city.

  “Wa
nt me to join you?” I swivel in the chair and enjoy the sight of her tight ass swaying from side to side.

  “I have an hour to get ready, Noah. Walk in this door, and I’ll redefine frigid.”

  I chuckle and turn back to the computer. With a swishing sound, Skype automatically loads, and as I click on the browser to check my email, my eyes drift to the list of people signed in to Skype. Mrs. Collins is one of them.

  Figures. She and Echo have a session scheduled so Echo can drop her worries on Mrs. Collins before we head to the gallery.

  Rehashing the crap that’s happened this past week, I select her name and wait to see if she accepts the call. Two seconds later, I’m greeted by my overenthusiastic therapist.

  “I thought it would be you,” says Mrs. Collins. “How are you, Noah?”

  “Good.” And it’s an honest answer. “Got a few minutes?”

  She’s wearing a Poison T-shirt and no makeup. “For you, I’ve got plenty of time. What’s going on?”

  I inhale deeply and jump, telling her about the party, getting arrested, getting free and meeting my uncle. Watching her reaction was like seeing snapshots of a person on a rollercoaster determined not to let the rider next to them know that they are terrified of the hills. Mrs. Collins is good at hiding her expressions, but meeting with her so much has taught me that her eyes can betray her. In them I’ve read disappointment and elation.

  I shut the hell up, and there’s a moment of silence. Mrs. Collins nods like I’m still talking then says, “So where does that leave you now?”

  “Here. In a hotel room with Echo, Isaiah and Beth. Getting ready to stand with Echo at the showing and preparing to be her shoulder for when she sees her mom.”

  “How do you feel about everything that’s happened?”

  I lean forward. “Like shit for hurting Echo. With my mom’s family, I feel like I’ve been run over by an oil tanker. Knowing that Echo and I can walk through hell together and come out stronger on the other side...” I halfway smile. “It’s the closest I’ve been to being a king.”