“You have no idea what you do to me," he said as he stood. "I could barely keep my hands off you last night, even after seeing what you'd been through this week. Even after knowing how wrecked you were when you told me. And I"m going to spend an eternity in hell for that dream I had about you on your birthday. But if I could call it up again, I'd spend it twice.”

“You like me,” he finally said. “You like me, like me.” He was trying not to smile.“No. I hate you,” I said, hoping that saying it would make it so.“And yet, you draw me.” Noah was still smug, completely undeterred by my declaration.This was torture; worse somehow than what just happened, even though it was only the two of us. Or because it was only the two of us.“Why?” he asked.“Why what?” What could I say? Noah, despite you being an asshole, or maybe because of it, I’d like to rip off your clothes and have your babies. Don’t tell.”

“What are my options?""You could read obscure poetry while I play the triangle, I suppose. Or we can smother ourselves in peanut butter and howl at the moon. Use your imagination.""Fine,"I said. "You take my hand and back up toward the bed.""Excellent choice. What then?""You sit down, and pull me down with you.""Where are you?" he asked."You pull me onto your lap.""Where are your legs?""Around your waist.""Well," Noah said, his voice slightly rough. "This is getting interesting. So I'm on the edge of your bed. I'm holding you on my lap as you straddle me. My arms are around you, bracing you there so you don't fall. What am I wearing?"..."What do you usually wear to bed?" I asked.Noah said nothing. I opened my eyes to an arched brow and a devious grin.Oh my God."Close. Your. Eyes," he said. I did. "Now, where were we?""I was straddling you," I said."Right. And I'm wearing...""Drawstring pants.""Those are quite thin, you know."I'm aware...."Right," he said. "So what are you wearing?""I don't know. A space suit. Who cares?""I think this should be as vivid as possible," he said. "For you," he clarified, and I chuckled. "Eyes closed," he reminded me. "I'm going to have to institute a punishment for each time I have to tell you.""What did you have in mind?""Don't tempt me. Now, what are you wearing?""A hoodie and drawstring pants too, I guess.""Anything underneath?""I don't typically walk around without underwear.""Typically?""Only on special occasions.""Christ. I meant under your hoodie.""A tank top, I guess.""What color?""White tank. Black hoodie. Gray pants. I'm ready to move on now."I felt him nearer, his words close to my ear. "To the part where I lean back and pull you down with me?"Yes."Over me," he said.Fuck."The part where I tell you that I want to feel the softness of the curls at the nape of your neck? To know what your hipbone would feel like against my mouth?" he murmured against my skin. "To memorize the slope of your navel and the arch of your neck and the swell of your-”

“You can't hurt me the way you think you can. But even if you could? I would rather die with the taste of you on my tongue than live and never touch you again. I'm in love with you, Mara. I love you. No matter what you do.”

“what if they make me stay? To keep me safe?”“I wouldn’t, if I were them.”“What do you mean?”“Any minute now . . .”Two seconds later, the sound of an alarm filled my ears.“What did you do?” I said over the noise as he backed up toward the bathroom door.“The girl who gave you the note?”“Yes . . .”“I caught her staring at my lighter.”I blinked. “You gave a child, in a psych ward, a lighter.”

“You don't have to pick me up," I said in a rush."Considering you have no idea where we're going and I have no intention of telling you, I'm quite sure that I do.""I can meet you somewhere centrally located."Noah sounded amused. "I promise to press my trousers before meeting your family. I'll even bring flowers for the occasion.""Oh, God. Please don't." I said. Maybe honesty is the best policy. "My family is going to screw with my life if you come over." I knew them far too well."Congratulations-- you just made the prospect all the more enticing. What is your address?”

“You told me I smelled - like bacon.""Well," he said evenly. "That's awkward.”