It was now a few days later and Noah and I were... napping. We were taking a nap together. How exciting.

I woke up first like I usually do and faced him, staring at him like I always do. Admiring him like I always do. Falling a little more in love with him like I always do.

"Creep-o," he mumbled, shuffling around.

"I can't help it," I whispered, tracing his eyebrow with a feather's touch.

"You have to be careful now," he smiled, "You're about to fall in love with me so hard," he chuckled.

"Why would I be careful about that? Should I be? Will you break my heart, Noah Hudson?"

He opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows rather than on his stomach like he was lying earlier. "Never, Bella Miller," he shook his head, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Never," he repeated. "You're beautiful," he whispered faintly.

"You're beautiful too," I smiled.

He chuckled, kissing me shortly. "There's something I want to ask you," he said, "My parents have been asking me who this wonderful..." he sighed, pulling me closer, "Gorgeous..." I grinned in response. "Stunning, magnetic, fucking beautifully breathtaking girl is that I've been seeing." He tucked my hair behind my ear again. "They really want to meet you."

"When?" I asked.

"Tonight," he said, drawing circles on my bare arm.

"What time?" I questioned.

"8 o'clock," he whispered, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to meet them?" I asked.

"That's fair, why wouldn't you want to meet your future in-laws?" he shrugged.

"You're crazy," I laughed, shaking my head, "I would love to meet them," I smiled.

"Great, I'll come get you at 7:45 then," he replied.

"I wanna see your room," I mumbled. He raised an amused eyebrow at me, urging me to continue. "I wanna see the bed you sleep on, the clothes you wear, the desk you studied at, the books you read, the languages you know. How many do you know?" I asked.

"English and French from high school," he shrugged.

"You took French?" I asked, slightly surprised. He nodded in response. "I took Spanish. I actually like to think I'm fairly good at it," I shrugged.

"Say something in Spanish," he nodded.

"I said I like to think I'm good at it, but I'll give it a shot," I cleared my throat, "Quiero que me digas que me amas," I said.

I want you to tell me that you love me.

"What does that mean?" he asked with a small pout suggesting his confusion.

"First say something in French," I retorted.

"J'aimerais pouvoir dire que je t'aime," he said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"You first," he smirked.

"I said, 'I want you to tell me that you love me,'" I mumbled, "You?"

He chuckled, "I said, 'I wish I could say that I love you.'"

"Are you serious?" He nodded while laughing. "It's a sign Noah, say it," I whined.

"I can't, babe," he shook his head, "Just give me more time."

"I'll tell you what I always do, Noah. Take your time," I sighed, "Just make it quick," I mumbled under my breath. He looked at me in confusion. I said the words I didn't want to, "We don't have all the time in the world," I whispered. "We've got five more weeks. Then we have to decide where we go from here."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, his grip tightening around me. "You don't think distance is an option?" he asked.

"It's always an option but it'll never be fair to us. We'll get tied down, it won't be the same. Both of us will have to give up a lot to see each other once in a while. And anyway," I mumbled, "I don't think I can stay away from you for that long. I find hours hard to deal with, I can't imagine months," I groaned.

He took a deep breath, resting his chin on my head, "Come to Berkeley with me," he whispered.

I pulled away and looked up at him, "Don't go."

"Don't say that. Or I really won't be able to leave," he mumbled.

"Don't tell me to come with you, because I will," I retorted.

"You're really not gonna go just because you think it isn't for you?" he asked.

"You're really gonna go even if it's the last thing you wanna do?" I questioned.

"The last thing I wanna do is break your heart," he said.

"Then do me a favor... when you leave," I swallowed, "Break-up with me."

"Bella," he sat up slowly.

"I mean it. Break-up with me before you go."

"Why would you want that?" he whispered.

"Because I can't stay away from you when you're my boyfriend, but if you're not, maybe I'll be able to force myself to do it," I shrugged.

"You can't force a break-up," he replied.

"You can't force love either," I retorted.

"I will love you. Just because I haven't yet doesn't mean I never will. I don't love easy and that applies to everyone," he explained, "In fact, you're probably the exception because I have never fallen for someone the way I'm falling for you."

I grabbed his hand, pulling him back down so he lay beside me. "It's really gonna hurt to let you go," I groaned, resisting the urge to cry just at the thought of it.

"Maybe you won't have to," he mumbled in response, "Maybe the circumstances will change, maybe one of us will change our minds," he continued, "Maybe once we're in love, it'll be different."

"Love me hard before you go please," I chuckled, trying to fake my humor because if I didn't I would cry.

"I'm getting there," he nodded. We fell into a trance of staring at each other until he broke it. "I liked you better almost naked."

I laughed, "Bras aren't all that comfortable to sleep in, I needed it off," I replied. When we got in bed, I only had on my sweats and bra because we both wanted us to be skin to skin, that's as close we're getting to sex right now. I think.

"Then you could have taken it off without adding a shirt," he smirked, "Your door is locked."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's 3 pm," he answered, "Why?"

"Because I'm still tired from doing nothing. I want another nap," I said, climbing on top of him and lying down.

"Then take your shirt off," he smirked, glancing down at his grey t-shirt that he wore here which I pulled on. "It's not fair if I'm the only one half-naked," he said.

"I'll take the sweats off," I shrugged.

"I want the shirt off," he retorted.

"Why?" I sang.

"I like your boobies," he grinned. I laughed, smacking his cheek harder than I intended. "Ouch," he laughed.

"I'm sorry," I chuckled, peppering kisses on his cheek. "I'll take the sweats off," I whispered. He frowned. "Look, you don't have boobies to show, okay? Make it fair play, sweats off, shirt off," I nodded, pointing at myself first, then at him.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," he nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Roll your eyes like that again and nothing is coming off," I threatened. He did the action of zipping his mouth shut and I rolled my eyes, smiling before lying down beside him, throwing my sweats off under the covers, tossing them on the floor. "See, fair play," I said.

"I want you on top of me," he ordered.

"Okay," I smiled, climbing back on top, lying down, my chin resting on his chest.

"Now I got the butt," he grinned, grabbing my butt, resting his hands on it.

I laughed, kissing him slowly. "I'm falling in love with you," I whispered, brushing my thumb across his lip because it deserved to be appreciated even when it's not being kissed.

"I'm falling in love with you too," he grinned. His fingers drummed a random beat on my butt and let's be honest, he wasn't following any rhythm.

"You do know that you don't have to pretend to be following a rhythm to touch me, right?" I chuckled.

"I don't want to grope you, it's disrespectful," he answered.

"It's not when you have my consent, which you do. I'm all yours," I shrugged.

"Then kiss me," he said.

"Say less," I grinned, kissing him again.

"Bella," he mumbled against my lips. "Stay the night with me, please?" he whispered breathlessly while I kissed his jaw.

"Okay," I said, looking up at him, "What are you gonna do to me?" I narrowed my eyes at him playfully.

He didn't answer me, just smirked, drawing circles on my lower back. I raised my eyebrows at him, hoping he'd give me a cocky, sarcastic remark to help some of the sexual tension to evaporate but nope. He thought rolling us over and pinning my wrists above my head would be better. It really wasn't. At all.

"You haven't said it yet," I reminded him.

"Maybe I'll finally grow the fucking balls to admit it tonight," he whispered before kissing me again, harder this time. The way he kissed me, the way he acted... it all clicked now.

He was already in love with me. He just didn't say it. He didn't say it because he wanted to delay it. He wanted to slow things down. He wanted to slow time down.

"No formalities tonight, okay?" he asked, snapping me out of it.

"Formalities?" I asked in confusion.

"Don't try impressing my parents," he clarified.

"Why not?" I frowned.

"You'll do that without trying," he said before kissing me again.

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