Meeting

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"I'm dreading leaving you," Noah whispered, his lips pressed into my forehead.

We cuddled in his bed. I had woken up from a peaceful sleep without nightmares but I was dejected that Noah and Papa were leaving for Noah's football camp. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't followed him around pitifully the few days before he was to leave.

"We're pathetic if we can't spend a week apart," I croaked back to him.

"You're right. But if that's the case, you'll be calling me pathetic when it's all said and done," he chuckled. With another kiss on my head, Noah pulled out of my arms and sat at the side of the bed. He brushed his fingers through his unruly hair, his arm muscles rippling.

I marveled at my boyfriend. I had been waiting for years to be able to call him that. I was still getting used to the new title but couldn't imagine being happier. As if he felt my eyes on him, he smirked and winked at me, pulled himself back to my side and kissed my lips softly. He couldn't seem to get enough of me but I certainly wasn't complaining. "Come on, pretty. Mom's gonna kick the door down if I don't start getting ready to go." He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the warm bed.

Downstairs, Papa sat at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. He glanced up at us. "Good, you're up," he commented. "You wouldn't have been happy if I had to come get you."

I walked to his side and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. Even though my foster father was sitting down, I could barely reach. "Good morning, Papa," I said to him and took a seat beside him.

"Morning, Mini," he greeted. "What are you gonna do all week while we're gone?"

I groaned and put my head on the table. "Don't remind me. Jolie's got my whole week planned out. She says I won't even sit down, I'll be so busy."

Noah had retrieved a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes from the stove and took the seat on the other side of me. He pushed the plate closer to me and gestured for me to pick off of what he had. I took a piece of bacon.

"Mini, just be safe. Make sure to call your mother and tell her wherever you go. You know how we worry." Papa tried to give me a stern glare, but I could see the concern pinched in his eyes.

My foster family was very protective of me. I couldn't so much as take a walk around the neighborhood without telling someone exactly what I would be doing. I could understand their worry, their need to keep me safe. It seemed everywhere I went, trouble followed. I sometimes wondered if I was cursed. "I promise, Papa. I'll call whenever I go somewhere," I assured.

"Good," he conceded with a kiss on my forehead and stood up to take his plate to the sink, humming a song I didn't recognize. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to finish packing."

❃❃❃

"Will you call every night?" I gripped onto Noah's hands. I thought for what felt like the thousandth time that I was being overly dramatic, but I was extra hormonal lately and the thought of being away from Noah was almost painful.

"I'll call every night, Edith. I love you."

Noah had told me he loved me countless times before. I always thought he meant the word in terms of friendship or family. I was getting used to him meaning it as I did, he loved me like a boyfriend would.

"I love you, Noah. You promised you'd be safe. Don't get hurt."

"I did promise. And I will be. But I'm not the one that always finds myself in trouble. I'll stay safe as long as you promise you will be, too."

"I do."

"Good, Edie," he breathed and pulled me to him, branding my lips with his. He smelled good, fresh and manly, and I wanted to pull him closer, to never let go. My body always responded in ways I could barely understand.

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