Impossible Love, The Complete Before You Go Series

by James, Clare

  I nod, torn between keeping everything inside—like I’ve always done—and taking a chance to finally let someone in.

  Jules grabs a seat next to me on the floor and gives me a hug. That’s all it takes for the storm to come rolling in. My body convulses as it all pours out—tears and snot and cries of pain. Jules squeezes tighter.

  We brave the storm together until my breathing slows and my head stops spinning. I realize it helps having her near. A real friend. Something I don’t think I’ve ever really had.

  “I’m here, if or when you want to talk,” she says.

  “Well, now you’re scaring me. You sound like my shrink.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, I do. I guess it must rub off. I’ve spent a lot of time with people in the psychiatry business.”

  “Really?” I ask feeling a little less like a freak.

  “Really. You don’t have to be embarrassed around me. I’ve experienced all sorts of crazy. So, did you do inpatient, outpatient, or group?”

  Shaky and sick, I take a chance and tell her the truth.

  “All of the above. I spent most of the spring in a suicide ward.”

  “What happened?” she whispers.

  “One time…” I cough and my throat tightens.

  I can’t do it.

  “You can talk to me, Tabby,” she says.

  She puts her hand on my shoulder. It’s warm, calming.

  I try again.

  “One time, after a really bad day,” I say, trying to steady my voice. “I totally flipped out. Panic attack or something. And I grabbed a bunch of pills.”

  Deep breath in and out.

  “My brother found me in my dorm room after I took the pills,” I continue. “My family thought I was trying to kill myself.”

  “Were you?” Jules questions.

  “No,” I snap.

  “Tabby?” her softness returns.

  “No, I wasn’t,” I lighten my voice a little too much. “I just needed a break. My life was…intense at the time and I wanted it all to stop for a while.”

  “Do you think the treatment helped?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say. “I don’t remember much. I was pretty out of it. They had me on all kinds of drugs. My dad didn’t agree with the program or the drugs. He pulled me out of there in July and brought me to Minneapolis. Now it’s outpatient once a week. I think it might be helping. I feel better at times.”

  “Maybe the real question is: Do you want to get better?”

  I don’t answer her.

  “What about for Noah? You know, he’s crazy about you.”

  “Well, I think I just changed all that.” The words hurt coming out.

  “He’s a good guy, Tabby. Don’t give up on him yet. But this isn’t about him, it’s about you. Life is a bitch, but it’s easier when you come at her swinging.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Jules has a way with words.

  “That would make a good fortune cookie.”

  “How ’bout this one: You can’t hide in your room, safe within your womb forever.”

  “Yeah, nice try. I think that’s from Simon and Garfunkel?” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re talking about this right now. I can’t believe I’m okay enough to talk about this. “I Am a Rock, really? What are you, like eighty or something?”

  “What do you mean? That is the anthem of the depressed, no matter your age. I touch no one and no one touches me. Come on, it doesn’t get any better. And by the way, you were pretty quick decoding the lyrics, Grandma.”

  “Yeah, I have my dad to thank for my knowledge of geriatric music.”

  “Hey, seriously though. I think I might know of something that could help make you feel better about things.”

  “What?” I brace for the answer.

  “Well, it’s actually a place. I could take you tomorrow.”

  “Where?” I cringe

  “You’ll see.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nope,” she grins, pulls me up, and looks at her watch. “Come on, let’s pull ourselves together. We still have another class.”

  We go to the restroom and fix our faces.

  In the mirror I look different. Taller. Stronger. The best part? Somebody is standing next to me in the reflection. Jules smiles and links her arm through mine.

  “So, are you the rock or island?” she asks as we walk out.

  I play the song in my head: I am a rock, I am an island.

  “Oh, I am a rock, for sure.”

  “And a rock feels no pain,” she sings.

  “And an island never cries,” I follow along.

  Chapter 29

  My short boost of confidence with Jules dissipates when I get to English Lit and see Noah and Jules. Professor Sands sends us into our groups right away.

  One word: awkward.

  Noah tries to be all businesslike about our project, but I feel his eyes travel over me, concerned I might fall apart any second. Yet he continues talking literary themes and symbolism. He asks me a few questions and begins to structure an outline for our presentation, pretending he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary earlier today. I’m put on quote duty. My job is to pull the best quotes to illustrate the book’s primary themes, as well as poignant moments throughout the novel. In other words, busywork.

  Surprisingly, we make progress and soon it’s time to call it a day. I’m jumpy as we pack up our things, worried about where exactly Jules plans to take me tomorrow and how exactly Noah plans to deal with my outburst.

  I am relieved beyond words when he reaches for my hand as we leave school. I hold on tight.

  “I don’t know what to say, Tabby,” Noah says when we’re alone.

  Here we go. One step forward, two steps back.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Noah,” I say lightly. “I’m sorry about freaking out on you and that you had to see my little breakdown.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I want you to be able to talk to me. I want to be able to share the good stuff, of course, but the shitty things too.”

  “I don’t think you’d want to know everything about me. It’s better this way, trust me.”

  “We all have a past, Tabby. I’ve made my own share of mistakes.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” I say, thankful to change the subject.

  “The way things are with Jenna, my obsession with the newspaper, and my very lame social situation. With the exception of you, of course,” he gives a tiny grin. “It’s all because of the mistakes I made freshman year. I totally fucked up.”

  “Tell me,” I say trying to help him, the way he’s always helping me.

  I squeeze his hand and Noah starts to talk.

  "Well, Jenna and I were at a house party,” he begins. I try to keep my mind open, but I’m already irritated at the sound of her name.

  “I partied a lot back then,” he continues. “We were with Jules and Foster that night.”

  “Wait,” I’m confused. “You hate Foster.”

  “I don’t hate him, I just don’t get him anymore,” Noah says. “We were actually really close freshman year.”

  That’s right. I remember Jules telling me something about this.

  “Anyway, we had Jenna’s little brother, Ben, with us at the party too,” Noah says, looking down at the street as we walk.

  “I was an asshole back then. I wanted to break up with Jenna for about a month before I had the balls to do it. I avoided her calls, would only see her if we were in a group. I lied to keep from being alone with her. She was so excited about Ben coming to visit, I knew I could break it off until after he left. Not to mention she was so stubborn, she would’ve fought me on it and I just didn’t want to deal with her.”

  “I can’t believe she would put up with that,” I tell him.

  “It wasn’t easy, believe me. But when Jenna doesn’t get what she wants, she just tries harder. So I went with them to the party, and about an hour into it, Foster and I decided to ditch the gi
rls to go get high.”

  He slows down and stuffs our linked hands into his coat pocket. His voice quivers. “Nobody had weed at the party, so we left with some guys to find one of our connections. We just left the girls and Ben behind.”

  Noah stops and lets out a frustrated growl. “It was so stupid. I was so stupid.”

  He releases my hand so we can sit on the curb. “Jenna and Jules were too drunk to drive. Foster was supposed to be the DD. It was such a dick move leaving them there—on both our parts. Ben volunteered to drive them home. He wasn’t shitfaced or anything, but he’d been drinking plenty.”

  My stomach tightens, knowing this is not going to end well.

  “It was raining to top it all off,” Noah continues. “Jules wouldn’t leave with them. She didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  It’s not my story to tell, Jules once said to me.

  “But Jenna went with Ben, and he took a corner too fast. We pieced the whole thing together after it happened. He apparently yanked the steering wheel back the other way. It was too much; he overcorrected. They slid off the road. Hit a tree. Totaled the car.”

  “Oh my God, Noah,” I say, not sure I want to hear the rest.

  “I know,” Noah says, his voice full of remorse. “Ben was killed that night.”

  Noah hides his face in his hands.

  “Oh no,” I say, feeling my heart break for him.

  “Ben was a good kid, too. A senior in high school, smart, good-looking. And gone way too early. Because of so many mistakes.”

  “It was nobody’s fault, Noah.”

  “But it was. We all played a part in it. Foster and I never should’ve left them. I think we are most to blame. Well, I am, anyway. Jenna was my girlfriend and I treated her so badly, and her brother paid the ultimate price. But she didn’t blame me.”

  “Who did she blame?” I ask, knowing Jenna isn’t the forgiving type.

  “Jules,” Noah answers. “And Foster.”

  It was all starting to make sense now.

  “That night tore us all apart, Tabby,” he says with glossy eyes. “Jules and Foster both tried to comfort Jenna, but she wouldn’t have it. She was hurt pretty bad. In the hospital for over a month. I was the only person she let visit.

  “After the accident, we all handled things differently. I drank away the pain in private; Foster did, and still does, in public; and Jules went into a pretty deep depression. She really lost both Jenna and Foster that night. And Jenna’s parents…they blame their daughter for Ben’s death. It’s been hell. That’s why I have to be there for Jenna. I can’t let her down again. I just can’t.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.” I bring Noah’s hand to my lips. “I’m just so sorry. For all of you.”

  Noah stops to look at me. “I’m okay. I’ve healed and I’ve learned from my mistakes. But that’s why I don’t want to make any bad decisions with you, Tabby. I’m worried, but I’ll wait until you’re ready to talk. I won’t push you.”

  “Thank you.” It’s the only thing I can think to say to him.

  When we get to his corner, I give him a hug and he tightens around my body, melting into me. I don’t want him to have this pain, but it feels good to finally be the one to comfort someone else.

  “I’m glad you told me about the accident, Noah,” I say, not letting go. “And I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you weren’t in that car.”

  “I just hope someday you can trust me enough to tell me your story.” He pulls away to look at my face, before moving in for a kiss. It’s careful and sweet. “I’ll see you at seven.”

  “What?” I’m stunned.

  “We had plans. Don’t you want to keep them?” Noah asks with disappointment in his voice.

  “It’s not that. I can’t believe you do.”

  “Why?” He keeps his hands resting on my shoulders. “I think this is exactly what we need.”

  I’m so relieved he feels that way but also nervous as fuck. If we continue with our experiment, that means it’s time for touching below the belt.

  “Now is the perfect time for you to put more trust in me, Tabby.”

  “Okay,” I stutter. “Seven it is.”

  “Good.” Noah nods, and gives me another sweet kiss. But the way he finishes it this time leaves me breathless.

  Chapter 30

  “Take off your clothes, Tabitha,” Noah orders shortly after seven o’clock.

  “Jeez.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Ever heard of foreplay?”

  “This is foreplay.” He smirks.

  “Okay, just hang on a minute.”

  “Nope.” Noah charges at me and flips me over his shoulder. “You’re staying with me, Tab. No going away in your head. No time for second-guessing. We’re doing this.”

  I slap his back and beg him to put me down. He doesn’t listen until we hit my bed and I land in a pile of pillows.

  “Now strip,” he says playfully.

  I know what he’s doing. He’s letting me have control to get me comfortable.

  Clever bastard.

  But it’s what happens after that gives me the jitters. Sitting up, I remove my sweater and bra.

  So much for my sexy underwear.

  I lean back to work on my jeans, but in a blink, Noah is there to intervene.

  “Allow me.” He slaps my hands away from my zipper.

  He has my pants and underwear off in a matter of seconds. I bite my lip in anticipation.

  “It’s just touching, Tab,” Noah assures me, leaning on his side.

  I’m on my back, which means he has full access to my body.

  “I won’t let it go any further. I promise.”

  His hands begin the experiment slowly, in the place we left off last time. His fingers trail my collarbone, tickling my skin. I relish in his touch as he places his warm palm on my chest and kisses me, soft and gentle.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m going to make sure you know just how much by the time we’re through.”

  I close my eyes and reach for him, but all I can grab is a fistful of his long-sleeve t-shirt. It doesn’t feel right. “Will you do one thing for me?” I ask.

  Noah stops his exploration. “Anything,” he says.

  “Can we at least make the clothing situation equal?” I look at him from under my lashes, hoping to work a little of my own magic.

  His eyes instantly narrow in on me and I feel the heat of his gaze between my thighs.

  “You can keep your boxers on,” I quickly offer.

  There’s a low growl in his throat, but he takes off his shirt and jeans. And once he moves against me, I can’t help it. My hands go on their own exploration—running across his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and his smooth chest. They finally find a resting spot on his abs. Noah matches me move for move and doesn’t make me stop. His tongue plunges into my mouth and we are a tangle of arms and legs as we inhale each other.

  When Noah finally pulls away from me, he wags a finger. “Naughty girl. Let’s get back to what we started, shall we?”

  “But I liked that detour,” I whine.

  “So did I. That’s the problem. Now be good.”

  Noah scoots down the bed, propping himself up on his arms while trailing kisses from my neck, down my chest, to my breasts, currently heaving with excitement. He looks up at me as he slides my nipple into his mouth.

  My eyes roll back in my head.

  When I come to, he does the same to my other breast. This time nipping and teasing. His mouth continues to work me over in the most delicious way while his hands begin moving down the length of my body stopping on my hip. He digs his thumb just under my hipbone; his fingers stretch around to my backside. He squeezes my hip at the exact moment he bites my nipple.

  I shudder, so close to falling over the edge I can taste it.

  Noah lets out a deep guttural laugh. “You liked that, huh? Let’s see if I can make you do that again.”

  I am gone, without words. N
oah doesn’t seem to mind. He slides further down my body and uses his tongue to draw a line down my stomach.

  My teeth scrape across my lip, digging in deep so I don’t call out.

  Noah makes his way between my legs and they easily part for him. He kisses the inside of my thigh, his tongue wet and warm. “Is this okay?” he asks.

  How do I answer that? This is the best thing I’ve ever felt and I never want it to end. He has won over my body and my mind and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.

  “It’s amazing,” I murmur, following with a bunch of incoherent pleas.

  “Tabby,” he exhales, and I feel his breath on my most sensitive spot.

  My hands fist the sheets and I cry out. On reflex, my hips rise to meet him and I feel him moan against my leg.

  Then his mouth finds me.

  I’m almost panting as his head begins to move between my legs; the sight alone is enough shatter me. But when his tongue starts circling that tight bundle of nerves deep inside, I lose all control. I rock into each movement, taking everything he offers.

  A familiar pulling low in my core builds with each flick of his tongue. His pace is unhurried, until his fingers slide inside, joining in—stroke for stroke. And when the pressure and intensity of his movements reach a fevered pace … he flattens his tongue and thrusts his fingers so hard I have to choice but to fall over the edge.

  I swear I feel the aftershocks for hours.

  Whoever invented sensate focus is a fucking genius.

  Chapter 31

  I miss you.

  Noah’s text comes in at two in the morning, less than an hour after he’s left my apartment.

  It hasn’t even been an hour, I respond.

  That’s too fucking long.

  I miss you, too.

  I can’t get the image of you out of my head when you…you know.

  Oh, God. Please do! I add, mortified.

  Not a chance. You are so fucking sexy.

  Stop!

  It is my mission in life to see that look again.