North of Light

by J. M. Paul

  Stretching, I try to reposition myself to give my back some relief without waking Connor. He groans, moves to wrap an arm around my waist, and mumbles something unintelligible. A smile pulls at my lips, and I feel content in a way that I haven’t felt in a really long time.

  Snuggling into him, I try to go back to sleep. I’m almost there when something vibrates against my butt, making me jump. It vibrates again, and I realize it must be my phone.

  Slithering an arm out from beneath Connor and under myself to grab the annoying device, I expect to see a text from Cami, but what I find sets my heart pounding.

  Evelyn: The morning show, Noel? Really? Did I not tell you to make this disappear?

  Evelyn: Going on a freaking nationally televised morning show is NOT the way to BURY YOUR STORY!

  Wow. Look at her with her threatening words and shouty capitals. She must be proud of her typing skills.

  I don’t know if I’m still buzzed from last night or if I’ve had enough of Evelyn’s crap, but it’s no longer in me to roll over and take her attitude. She’s my sister, and I love her regardless of her actions, but I’m not a doormat she can step on to rub off her dirty mood swings.

  Me: You lost the right to share your opinion about what I do the minute you cut me out of your life for DOING WHAT MOM AND DAD WANTED.

  Boom. I’ll take her shouty capitals and raise them ten.

  Me: You once said Mom and Dad would be ashamed of me. Well, you know what, Eve? They’d be disappointed in your behavior, too. Maybe it’s time you take a long, hard look in the mirror. I’m trying to move forward, to find the light in what happened to us, not wallow in self-pity and displaced anger.

  Connor shifts next to me, but I continue to peck out my feelings on my cell keyboard.

  Me: This is what I’ve always done, Eve. I write articles. Writers write what they know, what they feel, what moves them, and what they’ve experienced in hopes to help someone else through something else. Sorry if you’re too blind to see the good, as usual.

  This is the first time I’ve ever stood up to my sister. I’ve hero-worshiped her my entire life, but sometimes, heroes need to be brought back down to where us mere mortals wallow. And, sometimes, where my family’s concerned, I need to stick up for myself. My will is strong, except when it comes to family because no one can hurt me like they can.

  Evelyn: Whatever, Noel. Stop exposing our shit for the world to judge. If you don’t, you’re going to force me to take drastic measures.

  What the hell does she mean by that?

  Me: You’re resorting to threats now? You should know they don’t work. I stand by my article, and I’ll write whatever I damn well please.

  Ha! Take that!

  I throw my phone on the floor and let out a frustrated growl. I might have looked up to Evelyn for most of my life, but no one can frustrate me like her. The holier-than-thou attitude she carries around on her supposed perfect shoulders is a farce.

  Connor groans and snuggles into me, his arm wrapping around my waist again and pulling me into him. “You okay?”

  Even in my agitated state, his thick, gravelly voice causes my chest to stir.

  “Yeah.” Or at least, I will be after I let the confrontation with my sister go. “You?”

  His lips find the sensitive skin on my neck, and I shiver. He moves so suddenly, I gasp before Connor’s body is hovering over me, and my hands are pinned above my head.

  With his lips ghosting over mine, his green eyes intense, he whispers, “Good morning.”

  My pulse begins to rush at the closeness of our bodies, and I gulp down the feeling of his firm muscles gently pressing into my soft curves.

  “Indeed it is.” I lick my lips, and Connor zeros in on the motion.

  A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth before he bends to capture me in a searing kiss. Heat radiates off our bodies as he sucks my mouth, licks, and then angles his head, so we both can get a better taste.

  He releases my hands, and I sink my fingers into his thick hair, grasp handfuls of it, and tug him closer to me. It doesn’t matter how close we are; it never seems close enough. There’s something addictive about Connor. The more I taste him, the more I crave something beyond his passionate kisses.

  I rock my body up into his, trying to relieve the pressure stirring in my veins, and it elicits a deep growl to rumble in his chest.

  Connor pulls back to rest his forehead against mine. He stares at me, and I hold his gaze and wonder what he’s thinking. Whatever he must find in my eyes gives him the courage to dip his mouth toward my jawline, nibbling along it before he gives it a firm bite. I moan, and I can feel the curve of his smile against my skin as his lips slide down the side of my neck, a hot trail of tongue and teeth, to linger over my pulse.

  “Connor, please,” I groan without thought. I’m not sure what I’m begging for. All I know is my body is winding around itself, tighter and tighter, and I feel like I’m going to snap if he doesn’t touch me.

  “What, sweetheart?” His voice is choked as he pulls back enough so that his lips brush mine. “What do you want? You have to tell me.”

  Our eyes blink open at the same time, and I know the fire I see in his is reflected in mine.

  “You,” I whisper boldly.

  He holds my gaze for several breaths before a low growl rumbles in his chest, and he crashes his mouth to mine, kissing me hard. This kiss is hot, hungry, and brutal in the best way possible, leaving no doubt that he wants every part of me that I’m willing to give him.

  I moan, and Connor’s tongue slips through my parted lips, circling in a slow, seductive dance with mine. I’m overwhelmed by the sweetness of peppermint, and I wonder how he always manages to taste delicious. Sliding my hands down his back, I make it to the edge of his T-shirt and slowly rake the material up his sides, needing to feel his velvety skin.

  When we break apart, I run my fingers against his roughened cheeks.

  “I like this.” I scratch at the stubble that has grown overnight.

  “Yeah?”

  I nod, giving him a sultry stare.

  His thumb moves up to my mouth to pull my lip from my teeth.

  “I like this.” His palm glides down my neck and chest to cup my breast in his hand.

  I arch up into him and whimper.

  “And I really like this.” The pad of his finger rubs over my erect nipple through my shirt.

  “Please, more.” I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him flush against me. What can only be described as a purr vibrates in the room, and I’m not certain if it escaped from me or him. Running my tongue against his ear, I rasp, “That’s more like it.”

  I’m not sure where this little sex kitten has come from, but I like her. And I love the fact that Connor makes me feel bold, beautiful, and comfortable in my skin.

  “Fuck,” he groans when I rock up into him.

  We’re both panting, our chests heaving, as we continue to move against the other.

  “Noel.” It sounds pained.

  He starts to pull back, but I clutch him tighter to me, not wanting to think, only wanting to feel.

  “Noel,” he repeats and pulls my wrists down, waiting until I open my eyes and look at him. “I want you so badly. I can—”

  We both jump when there’s a loud knock at the door.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Breakfast is ready. Come down and eat before it gets cold.”

  Connor’s eyes go wide, and he slides off of me. I sit up in the bed, pulling the sheet over my clothed body.

  Is that your mom? I mouth to him.

  He nods and then stands, spinning in circles to more than likely locate his pants that he must have discarded last night.

  “Con? You awake?” Laura’s voice seems closer, louder.

  “Ye—” He clears his throat. “Yeah. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Let Noel know there’s food, too. I don’t know what room she ended up sleeping in last night,” Laura says.

  “Will do.”
Connor smirks at me before he shrugs into his jeans. He has a hard time zipping them due to the impressive erection he’s sporting.

  A snort sneaks out, and I cover my mouth with my hand, my eyes as big as saucers. I quickly look over to the door, hoping Laura didn’t hear me, and then glance at Connor again.

  “You think this is funny?” Connor’s brows arch as he points to the man downstairs that is obviously still very happy to see me.

  A huge, beaming smile pushes up my cheeks. “It kind of is.”

  “You think so, do you?” Connor charges me and jumps onto the bed to trap me beneath him again. “This is all your fault.”

  “I know.” I innocently bat my eyes.

  “You’re trouble.” He kisses my jaw and starts to make his way down my neck again.

  The prickling of his stubble makes me giggle before I push him away and stand.

  “So are you.” I grab my pants that are on the chair in the corner and spin, searching for my emerald-green sweater. Even though I must have been pretty buzzed last night, I was at least smart enough to sleep in my undershirt, bra, and panties. Much less than that, and I’m certain that Connor and I wouldn’t have been able to control ourselves—in his parents’ house.

  “Mmm.” Connor rolls onto his back, props his arms behind his head, and watches me pull on my pants. “Being good is overrated.” He pats the mattress next to him and waggles his brows. “Why don’t you come over here and show me just how bad you can be?”

  I roll my eyes and throw a pillow that was on the chair at him. He blocks it just before it hits his face and chuckles loudly.

  “Shh.” My eyes zero in on the door.

  I grab my phone from the floor and shove it in my back pocket. Pulling my hair up into a messy bun, I inspect the room we slept in.

  “Whose room is this?” The space is modern and relaxing but impersonal.

  “It’s mine.” Connor stands from the bed and grabs his long-sleeved shirt. “Well, it used to be mine when I lived here. Mom remodeled after I moved out.”

  I nod as I take in the stark-white walls, light-blue curtains, and stylish yet cold furniture. It’s kind of sad that all traces of Connor’s childhood have been wiped clean.

  When Connor finishes buttoning his shirt, he steps into me and wraps me in his arms. He kisses the sensitive skin just below my ear and starts to go lower.

  “Connor,” I groan. “We have to get downstairs. Your parents will be suspicious.”

  “Who cares?” He licks the curve where my shoulder meets my neck.

  “I do. If you haven’t realized, I’m trying to impress them.” I sigh when he moves back up to nibble the lobe of my ear. “Doing the no-pants dance with their son and then skidding into their family kitchen with sex hair and looking to refuel the beast isn’t exactly how I want to persuade them to join Team Noel.”

  Connor rests his forehead against my shoulder and chuckles. When he lifts his gaze to mine, his green eyes are sparkling. “Did you just say, ‘refuel the beast’?”

  His dimples wink, and I have a strong urge to lean up and kiss them, but I know it won’t help our current predicament.

  “I did.”

  Connor flattens his mouth in an attempt not to laugh, but it doesn’t work. A loud rumble vibrates his chest, and his shoulders shake.

  “You’re an ass.” I smack his bicep and move to brush past him.

  “Oh, come on.” He grabs me and pulls my back to his chest, warm lips caressing my cheek. “I was just teasing you.”

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and Connor sucks in a breath. It vibrates again, and he groans, pressing closer to me.

  “Mmm,” he hums in my ear. “This isn’t helping my situation.”

  I huff out a breath and shake my head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “When it comes to you,” he purrs, “I am.”

  “We need to get downstairs.” I rest my head against his shoulder.

  “I won’t complain if you want to go downstairs on me.” He points to his crotch and smirks.

  “Connor,” I warn.

  “I’m sure they’ll give us five more—” Connor’s cut off by my ringing phone.

  I sigh, pull it out of my pocket, and start to press the Ignore button until my eyes bulge at the name on my screen.

  Nicholas.

  “Noel?” Connor’s voice seems far away.

  The blood drains from my face, my knees wobble, and I can’t move. I can only stare at the name on my phone as it continues to ring and ring.

  “Noel, are you okay?” Connor questions.

  I open my mouth, but my lungs don’t work. Only a croak escapes.

  “Who’s Nicholas?” he asks.

  The call goes to voice mail and immediately starts to ring again.

  Nicholas.

  The buzzing device is clutched so tightly in my hands, my fingers are turning white.

  Connor grabs my shoulders and turns me toward him, so he can see my expression. “Noel, who’s Nicholas? And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

  He’s my other half, and maybe because I feel like I am seeing a ghost.

  “He’s my … he’s—”

  Bam, bam, bam.

  Someone pounds against the bedroom door again.

  “Son, breakfast is ready.” It’s David’s stern voice this time. “Your mother asked you to come down, and we still have guests. Don’t be rude.”

  “I’ll be right there, Dad,” Connor yells, but his sharp eyes remain on me, searching.

  “We should go.” I pull away, but Connor grabs my wrist, halting my escape.

  “Noel, talk to me,” he pleads.

  “Son.” David’s authoritative warning fills up the space.

  “I said I’m coming,” Connor hisses at David through his teeth, his attention still pinned on me.

  I’ve never heard Connor disrespect his parents, and my insides shrivel at the realization that he’s doing it because of me and my messed up life.

  “Noel.” It’s a warning that Connor’s patience is running thin.

  My shoulders slump as I release a long sigh. “I’ll tell you everything, Connor, just not …” I swallow. “Not right now.”

  “Why not now?” He releases my wrist and shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “Because we’re needed at breakfast, and I’m …” I look at my phone to see there are two voice mails and a couple of text messages from Nicholas before the screen goes black. I shove it back into my pocket. “I’m not sure what to tell you at this point. Or if there’s anything to tell you.”

  Connor’s Adam’s apple bobs, and he scratches his stubbly chin. “You’re making me nervous, Journal Girl.”

  Moving to take his face in my hands, I rub my thumbs along his cheeks and smile even though I know it doesn’t reach my eyes.

  “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” I lightly brush my lips against his and laugh when he tries to take advantage and pulls me closer.

  I press my hands against his chest to move him away.

  “No.” I wave my finger in front of him. “If we start doing that again, we’ll never make it to breakfast, and your parents will bust this door down and hate me forever.”

  He shrugs. “Sounds like a fair trade-off to me.”

  He reaches for me, but before he can catch me, I squeal and run to the door. Swinging it open, I head down the hall and stairs toward the kitchen with Connor hot on my tail.

  Jelly Bean

  “Noel, it’s me. Call me. We need to talk. Now.”

  I’m holding my phone between me and Cami, Nicholas’s firm voice mail on speaker. My eyelids are blinking faster than they should as I watch her jaw drop open.

  “Well, son of a bitch,” Cami whispers.

  “I know.” I nod and keep nodding until Cami places her hands on the sides of my head and makes me stop.

  “What do you think he wants? And why the hell is he making contact after brushing you off so many times?�
� She makes her way into the kitchen, and I can hear her rummaging around.

  “Noel, it’s Nicholas. Please call me. We need to talk.” I play his second message and sink down onto the couch.

  I’m staring at the lit pity tree in the corner, lost in my own thoughts, when Cami waves a bowl of ice cream in front of my face.

  “Earth to Noles.” She hands me the dish and shoves a spoon in the frozen treat. “Bon appétit.”

  “What’s this for?” I watch her devour a huge spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

  “It’s what we women do when we’re worried, confused, sick, or heartbroken,” she says with her mouth full. “We eat.”

  I chuckle before digging into the Mackinac Island Fudge goodness that’s drizzled in caramel. My bestie knows me well.

  After we’ve made it halfway through our ice cream, Cami asks, “What are you going to do about Nicholas?”

  “When I work up the nerve”—I finish chewing a chunk of fudge and swallow—“I’ll call him.”

  “What?” Ice cream spits into the air at Cami’s outburst. She sits straight and turns toward me. “Just like that?”

  “What do you mean, just like that?” My forehead crinkles.

  “He upped and left out of nowhere, Noles. You and everyone else were left floundering in his wake.” She stares at her bowl of melting deliciousness before lifting her gaze to mine. “Ignore him and let the bastard wallow in his selfishness.”

  I set my half-eaten dish of ice cream on the coffee table and slouch back into the couch. “You know I can’t do that, CC. This time without him has been torture.” My chest aches at the emptiness that’s been ever-present since Nicholas detached himself from me, from our bond. “Not only did I lose my parents and have my older sister flake out on me, but I also feel like a large part of myself went missing—died—when he left.” I swivel my head in her direction, tears swimming in my eyes. “I never thought he’d do that to me. I didn’t think it was possible for us to be apart.”

  Cami places her bowl next to mine and then wraps me in a hug. “I know, Noles. None of us did.”

  We sit in silence for a while, both of us staring at the pity tree, lost in our thoughts.