Songs for this chapter are: 

Pushing Away- Kevin Garrett

Unhinged- Nick Jonas

Trouble- Halsey 

....

"Can we stay out here a while?" Nora asks, her lips against my neck. "I'm not ready to go inside and face either of them."

"Yeah, we can. Let's play a game." I tell her, less spirited than the last time we played this game. "I'll ask my questions first."

I don't give her a chance to opt out of participating. I lead her to the couch and look around again, to make sure we are still alone. We are. The wind has picked up on the roof and her hair is blowing in front of her face. I sit on the opposite side of the couch and prepare my questions. I don't need much time this time.

"Why did you and your sister get in a fight? What are the papers they all want you to sign, and why did you bring me hear knowing that I was clueless? And how long did you know I was dating Dakota?"

Nora lets out a dramatic sigh and she lifts her legs and props her feet up on the table in front of us. "That's four. But I'll let it pass, given the circumstance." She eyes me. "I was fighting with my sister because she hasn't had my back for the last three years and I needed to pull away from my family for a while. I'm skipping this one, and I brought you here because I wanted to make you happy. I was hoping that for one night my sister wouldn't be a cunt, and that they would love you as much as I do. I knew for a little while." Nora shrugs her shoulders and leans up to take her shoes off.

Just how long is a little while? And does this bother me? I can't decide if it does.

Nora drops the sandals on the dark stained wood and I watch her fingers brush over the neckline of her shirt. We are still the only people up here and for a moment, I can imagine the two of us, on a rooftop patio drinking sparkling red wine. We are older and without so much weight on our shoulders.

That moment ends with the blaring horn of an obnoxious taxi. I will never understand why exactly they honk as if it's going to get them anywhere. I miss the luxury of having a car and the freedom that comes with it. Will I ever drive again? Or will I live in this concrete jungle for the rest of my days?

"My turn." Nora says, laying her feet back onto the table. I wish I would have asked for another glass of wine. Not for me, but for her.

"Why did you come here tonight? What did you and Dakota do that binds you so tightly to her? And..." she taps her almond shaped fingernails against her chin. "And if I met your family," another pause, "and they didn't already know me, what would you introduce me as?"

Nora stares out into the skyline. It really is beautiful up here. Did I mention I can see the freaking Empire State building from here? Maybe I do like Manhattan after all.

"I came here to get to know you a little more. I had planned to do that by meeting your sister and her husband. That didn't go as planned," I hesitate, but keep answering the questions Nora listed for me. If we are going to move toward any sort of relationship, I shouldn't be skipping questions. We are past that, right?

Dakota... Dakota, Dakota. Where should I start?

"Well, for starters, she is all alone in the world. Except me. I'm it. So regardless of what happens between us or how irrational she's being, I'm always going to look out for her. I know it probably doesn't make a lot of sense to you," I move closer to her and stretch my legs out onto the table a foot or so away from hers. "But she's like my family. I can't just completely quit her."

"Quit her?" Nora's brows curve together as I correct myself. She moves closer.

"I mean quit on her." I tell her. "And for my third answer," I look up at her to show her that I'm not skipping. I crack my biggest grin for her. "If you didn't know my family, I would say, "Mom, Ken, Hardin, this is my woman-friend, Nora." I dramatically wave my hands through the air, presenting her to the imaginary crowd of the Scott's.

Nora laughs and puts her finger into her mouth. She sucks at it and I don't know if she's doing it on purpose, but it sure as hell seems like she wants to disarm me. Not on my watch.

Well, not if I can help it. I look away from her tempting mouth and pretend she wasn't making vulgar, and sexy, suggestions at me.

"Your woman-friend?" She asks. Her voice is high and light through the fall air. The wind has died down a little and her hair sits calmly over her shoulders. The ends, no longer pin straight, have started to curl up. I lean over and touch the strands. I rub my thumb over them and Nora studies my face. Her hair is so soft. She is just so soft.

"Yes. I think that's a suitable for such a qualified woman." I tell her while tucking the section of hair behind her shoulder. I smooth my fingertips over her shoulder blade and she speaks.

Her chest rises and falls between each word, "And what qualifications are those?"

I hum and continue petting her skin. She's like a kitten who wants to be rubbed and fussed over all day. Suddenly, I'm a cat person. I don't know if I could handle the fur ball thing, or the pooping inside the house thing. Never mind, I only like kittens in Nora-form.

"Well, you have these," I drag my finger over her lips and up to her eyes. "And these," touching her lips. My fingers lead down to her breasts and I stop over her nipple, gently circling. "And this," I touch over her heart and feel it drumming beneath my palm. "This is my favorite part," I flatten my hand out over her and the moment I press against her chest, she's all over me.

She uses her palms to push my shoulders against the back of the couch. My "woah" is lost in the cloud of her. She's on my lap, kissing my cheeks, my jaw, my lips, my eyes. She's so soft in my arms, so warm. She's frenzied in a way that I haven't seen her before. I keep my little antic going, reminding her why she's so special to this world.

"You also went to college," I say when her lips touch against my forehead. She laughs and when she cups my cheeks and kisses me, I have to open my eyes to make sure this is all real. I have this piercing feeling inside of my ribs, poking at my already fragile heart, that the worst is yet to come with us. I can see images of us inside of my head, and they come as clear as day. But when I focus on one, it fades quickly and one by one, everything disappears. Nothing feels permanent with her, why is that?

"Anything else?" She asks, grinding her hips down on me. I stop her body from moving and she scowls at me.

I lift her hips higher so she's barely touching me now. "Not so fast. We were in the middle of a game." I remind her, even though she knows damn well we were. "I lean forward and touch my face to her chest. "You almost had me." I bite at her breasts and she yelps, climbing off my lap.

"Fine, fine." Nora is catching her breath. Her skin looks lovely under the glittering city lights. The moon is more visible than I imagined it would be from Manhattan. It's still so crazy to me how vast the difference between Brooklyn and Manhattan is.

"Who's turn is it?" Nora asks. She scoots her butt all the way to the other end of the couch and turns to face me, her legs crossed under her body.

Well, if she doesn't remember.... "Mine." I tell her, straightening my back.

"Liar!" She cries out with a smile. I shrug my shoulders, playing innocent. "Do you think you could be with me? Do you think we are crazy for this?" She points her finger back and forth between us.

"And, what's your biggest flaw?"

My biggest flaw? Could I be with her? Are we crazy?

Are we crazy?

I don't even give my doubt the chance to creep into this moment with Nora. This is between us, no other voices, just hers.

"I am here, with you." I tell her.

She looks away from me, but she's fighting a smile.

"My biggest flaw is that I take on so much from everyone around me. It gets heavy sometimes," I feel guilty admitting, but I want to be honest with her. She lifts her eyes to mine for a brief second, then looks out into the view again. "And, yeah. I think we are crazy."

"Good crazy or bad?"

We both have reasons to believe the other one is a little... I won't say crazy. Nosy. Both of us are very nosy people. I followed her all the way from her job to a city over an hour away. I stalked her family on Facebook and she knew who I was before she led me to believe. We've both had our share of "nosy" and maybe that's why we understand each other? My brain can't decide if this is a good thing, or bad.

"Is there a difference? It usually ends the same, doesn't it?" I ask her.

She inhales a deep breath, thinking over her answer. "Yeah. It does."

Neither of us look at the other and we continue the game. The questions stay neutral and impersonal. Questions that you could ask your friend. What's your favorite season? Hers was summer, mine was winter.

Snow or rain? I took snow, she chose rain and told me about her thirteenth birthday party when no one came, but her sister took her up to the roof of their villa to dance in the rain. Her parents were furious when the girls came inside soaking wet, ruining their freshly scrubbed floors. Stausey took the full blame, saying she thought the cat ran outside.

Her mention of the cat led to her tell me about Tali, her family cat who once jumped on her mom's back when she was walking down the stairs. Nora swears that the cat did it as a favor to Nora, who had just been grounded for two weeks by her mother. She can't finish the story because she's laughing so hard and I decide that my favorite thing in the world is this.

I love the way she tells a story, with every single detail in tact. She gives a full backstory and supporting details too. Maybe she should be a writer after all. She tells me about her sister braiding her hair and teaching her how to apply lipstick. I learn how her mom started to change over the years. She went from a broke cafeteria worker in Bogota to the social wife of one of the countries most prestigious surgeons. "My mom is a homemaker now, she occupies herself with being a surgeon's wife and she fills her schedule with charity events and luncheons."

Nora doesn't sound impressed by her mom's lifestyle. I can't tell why.

"What else? I want to know the important things, not what she does for a living. I want to know your favorite things about her. Memories, things like that."

Nora's fingers caress my chest and she runs her index finger through a patch of hair. "Why do you always ask the most intrusive questions?"

"They are only intrusive if you don't want me to know." I say, my voice sounding much sadder than I meant it to.

"Fine. My mother is... well, she is..." Nora struggles for words. "She used to make the best Arros con leche."

"Is that your favorite dessert?" I ask her.

"It's the only one I like."

My jaw drops. The only one? I must have heard her wrong. "The only?"

"Yep. The only," her voice lowers to a whisper. "Confession, I don't really like sweets, I'm more of a salty kind of gal."

"What? What kind of fraud!" I'm only half pretending my horror. "But you're a baker- I mean a pastry chef!" I catch myself before I finish the sentence.

"And?" Nora's smile grows and I like the way her eyes twinkle under the city lights.

"And? This is such... I don't even know who you are anymore." I laugh and she nuzzles further into my chest.

"So now you question me, when I admit that I don't like sweets, but not when I tell you about my mess of a life." I hear the pain in her voice, the shame dripping from each word.

"Well everyone makes a mess now and then," I try to soothe the ache inside of her ribs. "But I don't think I can come to terms with this," I pull away from her. She latches her arm around mine, but I keep pulling.

"This is too much," I pretend to cry. For a moment, I consider that I'm a total freaking geek on the roof of this fancy apartment, but the moment passes and I decide that I don't give a shit.

"The betrayal!" I bury my face in my hands and Nora shrieks with laughter.

"Oh stop," she giggles, trying to pry my hands from my face.

I'm not stopping. She's laughing and I love it.

I shake my head in despair, my hands hiding the huge grin on my face. "I thought I knew you," I cry and she can't stop laughing as she tries again, to move my hands from my face.

When she pulls harder, I stop resisting and her arms fly with mine and I grab her waist and lay her down on the couch. Playful surprise covers her face and her eyes are wide on mine. The neckline of her shirt is ridiculously low now that I've rumpled her perfect outfit and pinned her underneath my body. I run my nose from one side of her chest to the other, following the soft curve of the fabric over her soft breasts.

"What am I going to do with you?" I ask her and she groans under my feverish touch. I lick her skin and then pull away. I keep an arms length between her body on the couch and myself and I hold myself up using my arms, like I'm doing a push-up.

"I could think of a few things," she says, just inches away from my mouth. If I knew for certain that none of her sister's neighbors would join us up here, I would drop my mouth between her thighs.

"Hmm," Landon dips his hips down to brush over mine. She convulses on the couch and tries to hold onto my back best she can. I lay some of my weight onto her body, resting his head on my stomach. 

(Author's note: I love reading your thoughts and comments and love. thank youuuu. Also, I'm planning my travel for 2017, so where do you live????? Where should I try to visit???)