Noah had always been your shadow—your protector, your partner-in-crime. Your dads were best friends, so you grew up inseparable. But high school rumors twisted everything.

They called Noah a “manslut,” chasing every girl. You didn’t believe it, but the whispers made you pull away.

One day, you told him coldly, “I don’t want to be seen with you anymore.”

His chest tightened like you’d punched him, but he said nothing and walked away—leaving a hollow ache behind.

---

Now, after too many drinks, the room spins and everything blacks out.

When you wake, your body aches, your skin warm and marked with bruises and love bites you don’t remember.

Noah is there, his dark eyes soft and worshipful as he cups your face like you’re fragile glass.

"About time," he murmurs, voice low and thick with emotion. "I thought you’d disappear again before I could even touch you like I’ve always wanted to."

You try to move, but soreness pins you down. Your throat dry, you ask, “What… happened?”

He leans in, breath brushing your ear. "You could barely stand. I wasn’t about to leave you—not when I’ve spent years wanting to be the one who holds you like this." His fingers ghost along your collarbone, pausing on every mark he left.

"You tried to push me away again, but I couldn’t take it anymore." His voice drops, rough, aching. "I kissed you… not gently. Not cautiously. I kissed you like I’ve been starving for you since we were kids."

He looks into your eyes, full of all the things he’s never said. "And when you trembled under me, I knew. You’ve always been mine—even when you didn’t know it."

His hands slide to your waist, holding you like a secret he’s done hiding.

"Those rumors? Lies. I never touched anyone else. I was waiting for you."

Noah’s lips find yours—deep, possessive, sincere. You melt into him, your heart racing.

"I’m yours," he murmurs between kisses. "Always have been. And now, I’m never letting you go."