Letting You Know (47 page)

“
It's
really okay,” I said nonchalantly, “just one of those
accidents.”

“
Yeah,”
she sighed. “So, it wasn't entirely an accident.”

Lifting
an eyebrow, I giggled. “You wanted us to find you guys like
that?”

“
No,”
she said quickly, her smile going crooked. “I meant, Tim and
I... we weren't an accident.”

Scratching
the side of my neck, I gave a tiny nod. “I was wondering. So,
you two are...?”

When
she answered, I saw a familiar delight in her eyes that I knew I had
experienced only recently. “Dating. Yeah.”

“
Well,
that's good news, then.” My voice had a hollow sound to it;
clearing my throat, I tried again. “Um. I mean, I'm honestly
happy for you. I guess I'm just sort of... How serious are you guys?”

Her
eyebrows rose into her hair. “Pretty serious, I would say.
Why?”

Shrugging,
I wandered over to the edge of the balcony. The place was empty,
Deacon had put all of the art supplies away in case of rain while we
were gone. “I was talking with Deacon. He was pointing out how
it might be time for me to stop sleeping on your couch.”

Vanessa
said nothing. Her silence made me turn, the wind pushing strands of
my hair across my cheeks. I could see the relief in her eyes. “That's
kind of good to hear.”

“
Is
it?” I asked, fighting a desire to feel hurt. This was the girl
who had seemed so scared of losing me to my new boyfriend. Now, did
she really want me out of her apartment?

“
Leah,”
she said gently, stepping close. “Even if I wasn't dating Tim,
think about it. We should be past this point in our lives, crashing
on couches and stuff. Don't you want to live somewhere that feels
more like...”

“
More
like home?” I asked, thinking about how my parents had
suggested I move in with them.

She
came to stand beside me, looking down at the street below. “Yeah.
Think about it. Wouldn't it be nicer?”

Struggling
with my thoughts, I closed my eyes and put on a fragile smile. “I
guess it would be.”

For
some time, the only sound was the wind, gently kicking leaves down
the cement below.

“
Isn't
it scary?” I whispered. My mind wandered to the time I had
lived with Owen, the time where I'd had no where else to go.

Vanessa
chuckled, her hands burying in her long jacket. “Growing up is
scary, yeah.”

Growing
up. I guess this is what this is.

“
I
guess things must have been good on your trip,” she whispered,
casting me a knowing grin, “if he asked you to move in with
you?”

I
told him I loved him. He told me he loved me.
Amazingly,
I didn't blush. Looking up, I watched the grey clouds swirl above,
knowing they would never drop snow. “Yeah. Things went really
well.”

Reaching
out, I hooked my arm into hers. Vanessa didn't react at first, her
attention following mine upwards. “This is good for us, right?”
She asked.

“
Yeah,”
I answered, musing over it even as I admitted it to myself. “I
think it is. Growing up, like you said.”

“
Starting
to, anyway,” she laughed. “But yes. I guess we're finally
on our way.”

Holding
on to my friend firmly, we stood there for a long time. Just enjoying
the breeze, and soaking in what felt like the last of an age where
sleeping on each others couches was just a normal part of our lives.

So
this is what it means, to grow up.

I
wonder what else will change.

The
boxes were heavy in my hands. It was hard to believe that, after
several hours of carrying them up and down the stairs, I was almost
finished.

Wiping
my arm across my brow, a heavy sigh escaped me. The room that had
been empty the day we'd first seen it, now sat filled with a disarray
of cardboard cubes.

We're
really doing this,
I thought in amazement, strolling across to the large window across
the way.
I've
never lived with a girlfriend before. I wonder... I wonder how this
will go.

Giving
the news to Carlo had, initially, seemed harder than it turned out to
be. He'd acted enraged, pouted and stomped around, called me an awful
friend. In the end, he revealed to me that he'd been thinking it was
time for us to move out into a different apartment, anyway.

Any
question I had that he was secretly upset about the move vanished
when he drunkenly admitted that he couldn't handle hearing Leah and
me 'shaking the walls' anymore, as he put it.

It
was an admission that had definitely made me blush.

Placing
my fingers on the pane, my eyes floated around the view from the
second story. It was a small apartment, but it seemed perfect for
what it was.

A
place for us, that's all we need.

Moving
around, I spotted one of the boxes sitting on the kitchen counter.
I'd marked it, so I'd know what was inside.

Smiling,
I pulled out the small framed piece. Inside the glass, the painting
of two swallows was pristine.

Carefully,
like it might somehow dissolve in my hands, I took it over to the
bare wall by the window. On a nail that had no doubt hung something
far less meaningful, I placed the painting.

“
Hey,”
Leah said from behind me.

Turning,
like I'd been caught in some inappropriate act, my pulse jumped. But,
there was no judgment in her eyes; Leah wore the sweet smile of
appreciation I'd come to love.

She
was trying to carry a mattress, double her size, through the front
door. “Could you help? This is huge.”

Laughing,
I hurried over to assist her in dragging it into the living room.
“Why are you doing this on your own?”

“
It's
not that heavy, just awkward,” she explained.

The
building was small enough that it was almost a studio, the bedroom in
the back corner, tucked away. It didn't take us much, working
together, to drop it inside there.

“
Perfect,”
I said, dusting off my palms.

“
Perfect?”
She asked, hands squeezing her hips. Dust coated her cheeks, sliding
down part of her nose. “An empty mattress without any sheets or
blankets, in a tiny bland room. That's perfect to you?”

Stepping
forward, I took her waist in my hands, wrapping my palm around into
her lower back. Easily, she moved against me, her body lining along
my chest in a smooth motion.

When
I kissed her, she tasted salty and sweet. “If it's a bare room
with nothing at all, an abandoned building even, I don't care. If
you're in it, it's perfect, Leah.”

I
felt her breath catch, thrilled at knowing I could make her heartbeat
match my own in speed and temperature in a split second.

She
reached up, sliding her nails over the back of my skull, feeling my
hair. Our faces were so close, another kiss would have been a whisper
away. “You're right,” she admitted, looking up at me
through thick lashes the color of coal. “No matter where we
are, or what we own... If we have each other, it'll always feel
perfect.”

Holding
her close, inhaling the scent of her, I sighed. “Leah, I have a
confession.”

In
my arms, she went stiff, chocolate eyes fixing on me in wary
uncertainty. “What is it?”

Tracing
the shape of her throat, my thumbs made a path over her lower lip. It
was plump, yielding to my touch like cotton. “I told you
before, that I thought you were lucky?”

She
gave an imperceptible nod.

“
The
truth,” I breathed, watching my air shift the strand of hair
across her forehead, “is that I think I may, in fact, be the
lucky one.”

And
I mean that,
I
thought firmly.

Leah
said nothing.

She
only pressed against me, everything flexing when she shoved me gently
back onto the mattress.

Together,
we collapsed onto the springs, wrapped in each others arms as tight
as possible. I felt like I was in a cocoon, one I didn't ever want to
escape from.

“
I
love you,” she whispered in my ear, lips forming a sound of raw
emotion. “I really do.”

“
I
know,” I answered, finding myself lost in the curve of her ear
and jaw. “If I know anything in this world, I know that.”

And
really,
I
pondered, hearing her pulse in my ears as we lay together in the
bedroom of our new home, our lives only at the cusp of starting
together...

What
else is even worth knowing?

END
OF BOOK TWO

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Nora
Flite is a simple girl with simple dreams, she's inspired by the
events of her life and loves sharing them in her stories. Born in the
tiniest state, coming from nothing, she embraces every opportunity to
enjoy the good things in the world. As a kid, she often got in
trouble for 'daydreaming' in class, and especially for sneaking off
to pour over books in the library everyday.

Her
favorite moment was always the bus ride to school, or from it, when
she could read in peace.

She's
also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi.

Not
at the same time, of course.

Check
out her blog,
noraflite.blogspot.com
,
or email her at
[email protected]
if
you just have some questions!

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