North of Light

by J. M. Paul

  “Sure, yeah. I’ll come with you.” I’ll take any excuse not to have to spend another awkward moment warding off Connor’s attempts to engage me.

  Before I can stand, Cami hefts her carry-on bag onto my lap.

  I let out a quiet, “Oomph,” because who the heck needs to cart this much on a plane?

  She also checked a large suitcase for our four-day trip.

  “No sense in both of us going, and you bought the last round. Stay put and watch my stuff. It does tricks,” Cami jokes.

  “Hey, Con and I could use another coffee,” Trey says to Cami. “Especially if we’re going to be delayed another hour.”

  “Then, you can get your lazy ass up and get them. I only have two hands.” She heads toward Starbucks.

  Trey groans as he stands and trails after her.

  I watch them make their way through the crowded terminal to stand in a long line I’m not quite certain is worth the time. Coffee is my lifeline, but if we ever get out of this godforsaken airport and onto a plane, I’ll have to make two trips to the restroom before our connecting flight in Chicago.

  “Noel, can we please talk?” Connor turns in my direction.

  There’s an empty seat between us because I’m completely childish, and I don’t want to sit next to him.

  He kissed my face off at his parents’ cookie party, making me betray my best friend and not think twice about it, and then ten minutes later, I found out that he had a girlfriend. What kind of a person does that? And he had done whatever he was doing with Cami before we met along with what I assume was a long trail of women besides the two of us.

  Prick.

  “No.” I shift Cami’s bag onto her seat, face away from him, and cross my arms.

  “I can explain.” He bends closer and lowers his voice.

  Obviously, he’s not fluent in leave me the hell alone women-speak.

  “There’s nothing to explain, Butterball.” I glower over my shoulder in his direction. “You’re an asshole who likes to string women along. I’m not interested in being one of your whores.”

  A lady with a toddler across the aisleway glares at the use of my foul language, but I don’t care. My anger trumps propriety right now.

  “You’re not one of my whores,” Connor growls lowly, taking heed of the miniature ears around us. “I already spoke with Cami about ending things, although there was nothing to end in the first place.”

  He may think that, but how does Cami feel?

  “I don’t have a string of women at my beck and call,” he says before I can get a word in. “And Emily …”

  Ah, yes, Emily—the never aforementioned girlfriend.

  When he stays silent, I swivel in my seat to address him. He’s not getting away with lying or giving me a lame excuse. If he’s pursuing me, I need the truth about who Emily is and what she means to him.

  “Yes?” I prod when he remains mute.

  He exhales loudly, and his shoulders sag. “She’s my girlfriend.”

  I inhale a deep breath to start yelling, causing a scene fit for Broadway, but before I can, Connor says something that stops the hissy fit before it begins.

  “She was my girlfriend,” he corrects.

  “What do you mean, was?” I arch a skeptical brow. Sitting back in my chair, I cross my legs and tap-tap-tap my fingernails against the armrest.

  He runs his hand through his hair and pulls it, causing a flashback to when I had those locks firmly grasped in my fingers. The memory causes little tingles in my chest to dance southward to warm my nether regions.

  Bad kitty.

  I sit straight, immediately squashing those feelings and sensations.

  “Emily and I dated for a couple of years. Her aunt who raised her fell ill, and Em left for California to care for her.” He scratches his chin. “I got a call from Em late one night after she had been gone for a couple of weeks. She was sobbing, and I could barely understand her.”

  Somewhere near us, a baby starts crying. People shuffle by, looking for a place to sit, and a man makes an announcement overhead. But I hardly notice any of it. Connor has my complete attention.

  His features harden before they crumble into pain. He catches himself and smooths them over.

  “She wanted to take a break from our relationship. It wasn’t something we’d ever spoken about before she left.” He sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

  I have to crouch forward to hear him.

  “After what seemed like hours of coaxing, she finally told me that she’d met someone else.” He shakes his head. “I recently found out that she hadn’t just met someone else; she’d slept with him.” He goes quiet, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  I rub his back. “I’m sorry, Connor.”

  His jade eyes find mine, and I’ve never seen them look so flat.

  “I was, too, for a long time. We’d made plans together, and …” He trails off.

  “Why does your mom think you’re still together?”

  He releases a loud exhale and slouches back in his chair. “She likes Emily, and I haven’t had the heart to tell her that she cheated on me.” Connor shrugs and watches the crowd of people sweeping by. “I know I have to change that now.” He meets my gaze.

  I arch my brow.

  Connor reaches across the empty chair between us and clasps my hand.

  “We’ve been apart for almost six months, Noel. Emily’s moved on, and now, so have I. Yes, I’ve dated my share of women between then and now, but I’m not a player.” He rubs his thumb along my knuckles. “I never made promises to any of the girls, and they knew I wasn’t looking for commitment.”

  I try to yank my hand away from him, but he tightens his hold. His eyes are on me—I can feel their weight—but I won’t meet them.

  “Noel.” There’s a quiet desperation in his voice.

  Directing my attention over to the Starbucks line, I can see Cami and Trey are next to order. We don’t have much longer to hash this out.

  “I wasn’t looking for anything serious”—he brushes a strand of hair back from my cheek—“but then I met you.”

  My heart races, and my stomach quivers madly. When I meet his eyes, the intensity of his gaze deepens, and it makes the entire airport during a holiday rush completely fade away. Awareness of him prickles across my skin as his attention flits down to stare feverishly at my lips. Recollection of the way his mouth felt on mine has me exhaling a shaky breath.

  Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

  “Yes,” he whispers.

  Did I say that out loud?

  “You did.” The side of his mouth quirks up.

  Damn it.

  Connor chuckles.

  Double damn it.

  My thoughts really do fly right out of my mouth when I’m around him. I’m going to have to try to be more careful.

  “I want you, Noel.” He’s close enough that I can feel his breath against my face. “Only you. No games, no gimmicks.”

  “What about Cami and Trey?”

  I’m not sure what Connor’s saying exactly, but we’re not the only two on this trip. He can’t have me until I speak with Cami. I know he said he’d talked to her, but she’s my best friend, and I won’t further pursue something with Connor if it’s going to cause a rift between Cami and me.

  “I already told Trey about us, and he patted me on the back and said you were a great kisser.” Connor’s eyes sparkle.

  “He’s wrong.” My lips twitch. “I’m the best kisser.”

  “Mmm,” he hums. “I can attest to that, but I might need another sample.”

  Connor inches closer, but I push a hand to his chest to stop his advance.

  “What about Cami?” I ask pointedly.

  He growls and pulls back, but his hand clasps mine.

  “I told you, I spoke with her. There was never really anything between us anyway.” His attention flits behind me, and his pensive expression informs me Cami and Trey are making their way toward us. When
he regards me again, he tips his head. “I think it’s time for the two of you to talk.”

  His words make my stomach feel like it’s twisting in my throat. I’ve been meaning to talk to Cami about Connor, but I’ve always managed to find an excuse not to.

  “You’re right.” I pick at the hem of my leggings.

  “Of course I am.” He winks.

  I give him a dirty side-eye and laugh. “Your ego knows—”

  “I have to leave.” Cami shoves two Starbucks cups into my hands. She starts gathering her things and thrusting them into her already-overstuffed bag.

  “What?” My brows draw downward while my gaze swivels between her and Trey as I try to figure out what’s going on.

  I scowl at Trey, thinking he did this, but he shakes his head, shrugs, and then sits.

  “What’s going on, CC?” I shuffle the coffees around and reach out to steady her frantic movements.

  “My mom called.” She struggles to pull the zipper of her bag closed. I press one side in, so it’s easier. “Dad’s in the hospital.”

  “What?” I fly to my feet. “Oh my God.”

  Cami waves me off. “It’s okay. He’s okay, but I want to be there. I need to be there.” She throws her bag over her shoulder and grabs her pillow. “My brother’s on a business trip, so they only have me.”

  “I’ll come with you.” I set the cups on the ground and reach for my bag, but Cami stops me.

  “No, no. You should go and have fun. You need it.” She gives me a sad smile. “There’s nothing you can do anyway.”

  “I can be there for you,” I state the obvious.

  She kisses my cheek and then wraps me in an awkward hug around her bag and pillow. “You can be my moral support from Montana. Go learn how to ski, get some fresh air, and maybe just, you know … get some.” Cami winks before her eyes flash over my shoulder to land pointedly on Connor and then back on me.

  My face heats, and my mouth pops open and hangs that way until she shuts it.

  “Yes, I know there’s something brewing between you two.” Cami grins mischievously.

  “I-I …” I don’t know what to say.

  My chest sinks into itself, and my pride slinks to the floor as shame wraps its greedy hands around me.

  “You two aren’t exactly discreet.” Cami’s forehead wrinkles. “I caught on to the lingering looks and the touching when you thought no one was watching.”

  “I’m sorry, CC. I should’ve told you, talked to you about my feelings.” My eyes sting. “I’m a horrible friend.”

  Cami’s eyebrow lifts into a sharp point. “You did break the cardinal rule between girlfriends.”

  “I didn’t chase him. I tried to stay away. I really did.” I slouch. “But he’s a pain in the ass, and he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

  Connor chuckles.

  Without looking, I point behind me at Connor. “That’s enough out of you.”

  Now, Connor and Cami are both laughing.

  I huff out a breath and stomp my foot. “This isn’t funny. I’m admitting I completely suck as a friend, and you’re laughing at me.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Why are you laughing? Aren’t you pissed?”

  “Oh, you definitely owe me one, Noles, but Connor and I were nothing.” She peers around my shoulder at Connor. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” There’s a smile in Connor’s voice.

  “But … I …” I exhale. “You’re not mad?”

  “No, but I’m upset you thought you couldn’t talk to me about it.” She steps back. “But I don’t have time to discuss this right now. I need to go.”

  “Shoot. Yes, of course.” I grab her pillow from her. “Let me at least walk you out.”

  Connor and Trey stand and give her hugs.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say to both of them.

  Connor nods.

  Cami and I make our way through the throngs of agitated bodies and stop just before we pass the end of the secure zone of the airport.

  “Let me know how your dad’s doing, okay?” I hand Cami her pillow and wrap her in a tight hug. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

  “I’m sure.” She steps back and glances at her phone. “I want you to go and have fun. Enjoy this time away, loosen up, and get to know Connor better. He’s a really great guy.”

  I nod slowly and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “I’ve gotta go. My Uber’s here.” Cami wiggles her phone in the air. “I love you in case I die.”

  “I love you in case I die.”

  She waves, and I watch her until I can’t see her anymore.

  When I make my way back to the guys, they’re both standing and fidgeting.

  “Hey,” I say as I approach.

  “There you are. The plane’s loading. They just made last call.” Connor points over his shoulder.

  “Oh, crap.” I grab my computer bag and the two coffees Cami got us because no coffee left behind.

  We make our way onto the plane and into our seats. I stare at Cami’s empty chair next to me and worry about her and her dad and if I’ve been a good friend or not.

  As the plane makes it way over to be deiced, I gaze out the window at the falling snow and wonder what this trip will bring.

  We finally make it to Montana. It was treacherous since we missed our connecting flight in Chicago, but after what seemed like hours of finagling, we arrive at our chalet.

  It’s late at night, so we can’t see much more than the snow-covered roads in front of us, but when we exit our large four-wheel-drive vehicle with chains on the tires—yes, chains are a must here—I can sense this place is vast. It gives off the feeling of wide-open space, which is suiting, I guess, since Connor told me the place we’re staying is in Big Sky.

  We trek through the recently fallen few inches of snow with our suitcases and bags and make our way up to the house. The door flings open, and several people yell out Connor’s and Trey’s names. A round of hugs, handshakes, and pats on the back ensue.

  Once we shrug out of our winter gear, Connor quickly introduces me to the group. I recognize a few faces from the Thanksgiving Day tailgate and game, but I don’t know anyone, except Connor and Trey.

  There are three girls here—girlfriends of Connor’s friends—and when I wave a hello, they wave back but immediately start whispering to each other and giving me curious looks.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  “Come on.” Connor grabs my suitcase and holds out his other hand to me. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  I place my palm in his, and he leads me down the hallway and into one of the most beautiful bedrooms I’ve laid eyes on. It has a vaulted ceiling with wood beams, an en suite, a king-size bed, and a stone fireplace stretching up the entire height of one wall. There’s a large flat screen television, a comfy chair, a big picture window, and a glass door that more than likely leads out onto a deck or patio.

  “Wow.” I toss my computer bag onto the bed. “This is all for me?” I turn to address Connor.

  He rolls my suitcase into the room and then saunters over to me. “All for you.”

  He brushes my ponytail over my shoulder and then runs his fingers down the length of my jaw. It sends chills across my skin, and I shiver.

  “Are you cold?”

  “A little. It’s freaking freezing here.” I rub my hands up and down my arms.

  “Well, maybe you should wear something a little warmer than that horrid sweatshirt.” He jerks his chin toward my chest.

  When I glance down, I bark out a laugh. I completely forgot I’m wearing my This Girl Hates Christmas sweatshirt. It seems like a lifetime ago when I put this on. I was mad at Connor for lying about a girlfriend and for playing me and Cami.

  My eyes are filled with mischief when I lift them back to Connor’s. He shakes his head before he leans over and places a quick kiss to the tip of my nose. When he steps away, I feel the loss of his heat.

  Connor fidd
les with a knob on the fireplace and then flips a switch. Flames dance to life, their orange glow almost mesmerizing.

  “That should warm it up in here.” He’s standing in front of me again.

  “Thank you. This place is beautiful.” I raise my arm to indicate our surroundings.

  “Just wait until the sun rises tomorrow. What’s out there”—he tips his head toward the outside—“will take your breath away.”

  “I’m already finding it difficult to breathe.” It’s out of my mouth before I realize how corny that statement sounds. My eyes widen, and I’m certain a horrified expression hijacks my features. “Because of the, um, altitude.” I try to explain away my lameness, but it doesn’t work.

  Connor’s eyes gleam, and a strangled laugh bubbles out of my mouth. He grins and pulls me against him. When our bodies touch, we both sober, the moment not seeming so humorous anymore.

  His look becomes smoldering. He places his hands on the sides of my face, and I feel coveted, wanted, and quite possibly seen for the first time in two years.

  “Am I allowed to kiss you?” Connor questions.

  It seems like that question is becoming our thing.

  “Yes.” I should be embarrassed about how desperate that one word sounds, but I’m not.

  The intensity of his gaze deepens right before his lips touch mine. When they collide, my body melts against his, and everything fades, except him, his touch, and his mouth.

  This kiss is slower, deeper, and more sensual than anything I have ever experienced. It’s the kind of kiss that makes me feel like I’ve never really been kissed before and that I never want to be kissed by anyone other than him again. I’ve never felt so wanted and desired.

  “God, I crave the taste of you,” he whispers against my mouth, his words fracturing into a groan.

  He breaks away, and I whimper a protest.

  “If I don’t stop, we’ll make good use out of that bed, Journal Girl. And I’m not sure you’re ready for this to go that far.” His eyes are hot lava.

  I lick my lips, savoring his peppermint flavor. He places a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth before he backs away.

  “Why don’t you do whatever you need to do, and then come join us in the kitchen if you’re not too tired? I’m sure you’re starving.” Connor smirks, and I shake my head.