Reaching down, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the stool. “Nope. We’re doing this now. I already took it up to the bedroom, so let’s go.”
He let her lead him, curious over what she had that could distract him from something as big as speaking to his twin for the first time in over twenty years. “You should have let me carry it up for you.”
“I’m not helpless,” she replied as they walked into his room. “Besides, I told you it wasn’t that heavy. There it is. Go have a look.”
He kissed her again before sitting on the bed and pulling the box to him. Opening the lid, his breath caught as his hands stilled. There on the top was the signed baseball from the weekend trip he and Brandon took to see the Red Sox play.
Swallowing hard, he looked up and met her gorgeous blue eyes. “This is what you were telling me about at the hotel. The box of Brandon’s stuff you came to give me.”
She nodded, and he glanced back down, picking up the baseball with fingers that had the slightest tremor in them. He turned it around in his hand, remembering when Brandon caught the ball. He’d been so proud of that.
Fuck. So many emotions were hitting him all at once and he could barely breathe through them. He had to get control of himself before he looked through the rest of the contents of the box.
But he knew, even if the baseball was the only thing in there that Lily brought him, it would have been more than enough. The only gift she could give him that was better than that baseball was herself.
Chapter Seventeen
Lily anxiously bit her lower lip as she watched Noah. He’d been sitting there, still and silent as he held the baseball, for the longest time. And she couldn’t help but worry that giving him the box had been a bad idea.
Maybe she should have waited longer. Given it more time. It seemed like they’d made such huge strides, and she thought the time was right. He’d even said that he wouldn’t mind if she wore Brandon’s wedding ring around her neck, and she could tell he was being completely sincere. She felt no desire to keep wearing it now—as much as she still loved Brandon and would always miss him, that time in her life was over, and she was beginning a new chapter.
But the fact that Noah said he wouldn’t mind if she did—that meant the absolute world to her.
They had made huge strides, but still, maybe it was too soon. Maybe the guilt he was setting aside was still too fresh, and the contents of the box were going to dredge up old memories and feelings he might not be able to get past.
He’d come so far from the man overwhelmed with so much guilt—for being the one who lived, and for being a shifter who was able to live through the blast. And for being attracted to her. He’d been eaten up with it, and he’d come so far. She didn’t want to set him back.
She didn’t want to set them back.
Clearing his throat, he looked up at her, his glowing green eyes just a little bit shiny. “This is amazing, Lil. Thank you so much for this.”
Relief washed over her, because his words meant the box was a good thing, and she smiled shakily. “Of course.”
She blew out a breath, trying to release some of her nerves. Maybe it was going to be okay, although she wasn’t sure what the letter said. She hadn’t even been tempted to open it. She couldn’t imagine it being anything bad, but still, she wouldn’t breathe easier until he’d looked through everything.
Noah sat the baseball aside and she smiled as she looked at it. Brandon had such a good time the weekend he and Noah went to that game, and he’d been proud as hell of catching that ball. She’d heard him rub it into Noah’s face many times, teasing him about being too slow and missing out.
She’d found the letter with the baseball and knew he’d wanted Noah to have it. She was glad she’d finally gone through Brandon’s things. She’d donated a lot of it to charity, but she’d set some things aside to keep. The letter had been tucked under the baseball.
She hadn’t even known he’d left one for his best friend, although she should have guessed. After all, he gave her an obvious clue. He’d told her on the phone, right after he deployed, to check the baseball if something happened to him, but she’d forgotten all about it after she was notified of his death.
Finding that letter was what finally gave her the push to find Noah. She’d been thinking about looking for him more and more the past year, but it wasn’t until she saw it that she set her mind to tracking him down. That was part of why she said she felt like Brandon gave her the nudge to find Noah. If it wasn’t for the letter, she might have put it off indefinitely.
Noah pulled other things out of the box—pictures, tickets to ballgames and fights, other keepsakes—and he looked at each of them thoroughly before glancing up at her with a smile. “I had no idea Brandon kept all this.”
Smiling in remembrance, she shrugged her shoulders. “He was a packrat, especially when it came to stuff that had meaning to him.”
“I’m seeing that,” he replied quietly.
Reaching into the box, he pulled out the last thing left, and her breath caught as he stilled. He glanced at her as he held up the letter, his green gaze questioning, and she inhaled as she clenched her fingers together.
“I found it with the baseball a few months ago. That was when I started looking for you in earnest. I haven’t read it, so I don’t know what it says.”
He took a deep breath and opened the envelope, pulling out two sheets of paper. She watched his eyes move as he read, and then they widened and raced up to meet hers.
“What?” she asked, just barely stopping herself from inching forward so she could read over his shoulder.
Shaking his head, he went back to the letter, flipping it over to read the back. A few moments later, he turned it over and lowered the pages to his lap without looking at the second sheet, as long, never ending minutes ticked by in silence.