Say You Swear

With everything that was going on, he had no time to heal. He was torn in half in December, only to be shredded into a million pieces come January. He thought he lost me, he lost our child, and then he lost his mother. Not only did he want time to heal, but he also needed it. We needed it.

So we took the time we deserved, packed up my dorm as well as his captain’s quarters, since neither of us would be returning to campus until the fall, when a new captain would be moved into Noah’s old space. And then we left for my parents’ house. My dad surprised us when we arrived, his man cave having been turned into a cozy little studio that he insisted Noah and I stay in.

Everyone wondered why we didn’t simply stay at the beach house, but I wanted a fresh start somewhere where he and I shared no pain, so that’s what we have.

But it’s Valentine’s Day today, and Noah wanted to bring me to my favorite place, so who was I to deny him?

With a long, settling sigh, I look out the window as we roll to a stop in the driveway; my excitement peaks, and I’m in a rush to jump out.

So, as soon as Noah puts the truck in park, I reach for the handle, but he quickly presses the lock button, and my head snaps his way.

With a smirk, he climbs out, then reaches back in and tugs me to him. He steps between my legs, and kisses me, his hands sinking into my hair. I breathe him in, my chest swelling, my arms wrapping around his neck. He lifts me from the seat, his hands cupping my ass as he presses my back against the side of the truck.

“We should go inside,” he says between kisses.

My pulse spikes, and I nod, pressing on his chest, so he lowers me to my feet.

As I round the hood and skip to the front door of the beach house, I can’t contain my smile at the fact that Noah and I have it all to ourselves for the entire weekend.

Once I unlock the door, I quickly spin, my shoulders falling against it as I watch my man walk up to me.

The prolonged anticipation is killing me, making my heart beat out of my chest, and Noah senses it. A single dark brow lifts as he grows suspicious.

“Juliet…”

“We missed so much time, Noah. I want it back.”

“Baby.” Anguish fills his voice, deep creases forming along his eyes as he reaches for me.

I grip his wrist, freeing his hand from my cheek and folding his fingers closed. I kiss his knuckles, and a frown builds across his face.

Twisting the knob, I push the door open behind me, blindly taking backward steps inside, because I don’t want to miss his reaction.

It takes him several moments to force his eyes from mine, but reluctantly, his are pulled to the living room.

His eyes widen, flicking across the space, and then they land on me.

“Ari…” he barely whispers.

I snag the red and white hats off of the back of the couch and walk to him. He bends the slightest bit, his gaze never leaving mine as I tug the Santa hat onto his head, and when I go to pull mine on, he takes it, placing it on me himself.

His arms come around me, his thumb teasing beneath my bottom lip, and the smile that curves my lips is soft. His eyes leave me then and he looks to the white flocked tree, standing tall in the corner of the room. It’s decorated in red and green lights, shiny silver bulbs covering it from top to bottom, a single present wrapped beneath it. Each wall is lined in colorful bright lights, and two stockings hang from the fireplace.

“Merry Christmas, Noah,” I whisper.

His jaw flexes as he stares at the Christmas tree, and then the mantel, where a tiny, porcelain set of angel wings sits, a red ribbon tied along its base.

And then he’s kissing me again. It’s slow and tender, and the ache in my chest deepens, but this time, it’s with longing and love.

Grabbing his hand, I lead him into the kitchen, freeing us both of our Santa hats and tossing them on the floor as we curve around the corner.

Silver and gold tinsel hang from the ceiling, matching confetti glittering the floor.

I let go of his hand and step toward the corner and click on a switch, and the mini disco ball sitting on the kitchen island flicks on, spinning and sparkling across the walls.

Hopping up on the counter, I look to Noah.

His chest heaves as he glances around the room, and he reaches up, gliding his fingers along one of the streamers hanging above him.