12
Jett
“What do I wear to watch hockey?” I ask McKenna as she lounges on my bed.
I’ve entered panic mode and have emptied every hanger in my closet trying to find the perfect outfit for hanging out at Noah’s today.
“Are you serious, Jett?”
Without looking up, I nod. “Duh. I wouldn’t ask if I knew.”
“Just dress for comfort. You’re literally walking next door.”
“But I’ll look homeless.” Looking up at her, I pout. “I can’t pull off the bum look like you.”
McKenna groans as she sits up. “Bull crap, Jenette. You are gorge. Just breathe, friend. Noah already knows you’re a creature of comfort. He also doesn’t care what you do or don’t wear.”
“How do you know?” I know I sound pathetic, but my insecurities are in full swing today. It makes no sense to me, but something about Noah quiets me. And he seems to like me, which is even crazier to me. I want to keep as much of my spiciness away from him as I can, at least for now.
“He texted me to ask what comfort foods you’d want. So, I filled him in. He was worried about making sure you were relaxed enough to have a good time. He’s a good guy, Jett. An even better friend.”
That has my whole body freezing, my breath catching in my lungs. “Wait, how do you know that? About being a friend? And how does he have your number?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Kens, you know that doesn’t work for me.” It feels like little ants crawling through my veins as my anxiety spikes, all the possible scenarios of how the two know each other building doubt. Did they date at some point? Hook up? Does she have a thing for him?
McKenna sighs, and I can already tell I won’t like the next thing out of her mouth.“Look, babe. I need you to hear me when I say this, okay?”
I can’t force my eyes to meet hers as my heart tries to climb up my throat, but I at least turn in her general direction.
“I met Noah several years back. Not long before you and I met, actually. I’m going to save you the details, because that story is a downer, but he helped me get out of a toxic relationship. Literally loaded me up and drove me away from the drunk asshat I was ready to marry.”
So many questions swarm my thoughts as I wonder why I never knew my bestie had been engaged. She knows me well enough to recognize the curiosity she just awakened and places a hand over mine, squeezing gently. “It’s a story for another time, Jett. Besides, Noah only has eyes for you.”
I snort-laugh. So ladylike. “You’re delusional. You know that right? And it doesn’t matter where Noah’s eyes are, because I already warned him off.” I do my best to ignore the giant bomb my best friend just dropped on me. If I go ahead and lock it up tight, I can hopefully keep my focus on my night in.
“Put on one of your book sweatshirts. Those soft, thick leggings you are so fond of and some fuzzy socks are perfect for curling up on the couch with the man,”McKenna says, a satisfied smirk lining her lips a blood rushes to my neck and cheeks.
Pushing down the urge to crawl under the covers and cancel plans, I take a deep breath. “You’re sure that’s not too underdressed? It won’t be weird if I show up in that?”
“Honey, you could show up in a burlap sack and he’d still have hearts for eyes.” She stands, putting her hands on my shoulders and squeezing. “You got this, girl.”
***
I take a deep breath and knock before I chicken out. Sadie’s pitter-patter and a soft whine on the other side of the door greet me.
Honestly, the fact that he has a puppy for me to snuggle makes my anxiety drop just a touch—like, a minuscule amount, but that’s better than nothing, right? When the door opens, my brain short-circuits and I am momentarily distracted by the sight before me. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m always distracted. But seriously. Dark curls are free of a hat and look like fingers have haphazardly teased them. The gray V-neck and well-worn Wranglers hug his body in all the right places.
Oh, man. Bare feet. Didn’t know that was a turn-on for me until right this minute.
I let myself ogle for a second longer, both confirming internally that McKenna was right about comfort and embarrassed to look up, because I can feel those chocolate eyes reading me like a book.
“You made it.”
I jump as Noah speaks at the same time Sadie rushes forward to nudge my hand, demanding pets.
He steps back, ushering me inside. “Get out of the cold. Come make yourself at home. I was just putting some snacks in bowls.”
As he steps back into the kitchen, I take in Noah’s loft. It has an open kitchen and living room. I’d bet money that the hallway leads to the bathroom and bedroom just like mine. His space is just much, much more organized.
“Feel free to go ahead and get settled in the living room. Or you can come in here with me. Either way.”
“Cool, cool.” I hang out awkwardly between the two areas, fidgeting with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“Jett.”
“Hmm?”
He steps in front of me, not touching but sort of squatting down until we are eye to eye. “What would make you more comfortable right now?”
“Oh, I’m not uncomfortable. I swear.” Lies. I’m so freaking nervous right now.
“Don’t lie, chaos. Your whole body is tense, and your eyes keep shooting over to the door like you’re ready to bolt.”
Fireballs . He shouldn’t be able to read me this easily. He doesn’t know me!
I want this to work. I want to get to know Noah. I want…him.My heart is pounding, and he’s right. I have been thinking about bolting already. But this time, I let my impulses win.
“This’ll sound crazy, but can you, um, maybe just like, put your hand on me? For some reason your touch relaxed me the other day, and I need something to ground me before I go hide somewhere and embarrass myself.”
I can’t place the emotion that flickers through his eyes, but the gentle lift of his lips has my insides squirming.
“You mean like this?” He steps closer and slips his calloused fingers over my bicep, over my shoulder, and rests it along the collar of my sweatshirt. The slightest increase in pressure has my eyes fluttering. Damn, this man.
“How do you do that? Calm everything?”
“All I’m doing is giving your brain something else to focus on.”
“Never stop.” My eyes pop open. “Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, chaos.” He gently squeezes one more time before letting his hand slide back down to grip my fingers in his. “And for the record, I don’t want to stop. The ball is in your court.” He steps back around the counter and dumps a small cookie sheet of pigs-in-a-blanket into a large bowl. Then he carries it and another container toward the couch. “It’s not much, but McKenna said these were some of your favorites. Figured they’d be easy snacks.”
He motions to the piggies and the batch of chocolate chip cookies before queuing up the game recording and pressing play. The puck drops on the screen, and Voltage wins the face-off.“Gonna grab some drinks really quick. Water, soda, or electrolytes?” Noah asks as I sink deep into the couch cushions.
“Any chance soda includes Dr. Pepper?”
“But of course.” He grins and steps out of sight. “Best soda out there.” As he comes back around with two soda cans in hand, he asks, “Pepsi or Coke if this is not an option?”
“Either.” I shrug. “Depends on which one passes the flavor test for me at the time. But if I have a choice, it’ll always be Dr. Pepper.”
“Pepsi is too sweet for me, but to each their own.”
“So, I guess you’d choose salty over sweet then?”
He sinks down on the cushion next to me and pops the tab on my can before handing to me.“Mmm, depends on the sweet thing. But if we’re talking foods, I’ll go with salty.”
“I have a sweet tooth,” I say, trying to soak up some of his body heat without being obvious.
“Favorite food? I’m talking actual meal, here. Not snacks, not processed sugars.”
I cut my eyes at him. “Since you knocked my favorite food groups out of the acceptable answers, I guess chicken nachos take the cake.” I glance back up to the screen that neither of us are paying much attention to just in time to see Voltage’s number thirty-two score.
“I can get behind Mexican food any day. Especially if there’s extra queso included.”
“I tend to fixate on food. So, I could eat the same thing for three weeks and not even think about another dish. Grilled chicken, fresh tomatoes, and queso on top of some corn chips is one dish I can always count on to be satisfying. What is your favorite?”
“I’m a pasta lover, but an extra cheesy lasagna is my favorite. Has to be homemade, and it’s even tastier on day two.” He hands me a cookie and continues with his questions.
As we keep sharing small tidbits of our lives, I grow more and more comfortable in his space. There are no awkward silences, no forced laughs or uncomfortable questions.
“On our coffee date—”
“Not a date.”
Noah is unphased by the interruption. “When you were talking about your dreams. Have you put any feelers out around town?”
I shake my head in response. “I don’t see anyone here taking a chance on an outsider. But no, I haven’t looked into any locations yet. I think I’m just going to focus on the freelancing thing. I’m more so just worried about bills, you know? My savings can cover me for a little while, but they aren’t indefinite.”
“If nothing else, both the bar and the café are always looking for help.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, Sadie at our feet. My eyes keep glancing to the corner chair where a pile of blankets sit. Without realizing it, I’m gravitating toward them, searching for one that is soft enough.
“Are you touch-testing my blankets?” Noah asks, startling me.
I freeze in my pursuit of pulling the fluffy cream and deep purple one from the bottom of the stack.
“Blankets are my weakness. I didn’t realize I’d even moved. It’s just habit.” Embarrassed, I sit back down without the blanket.
“I didn’t mean to call you out on it. Are any of them what you were wanting? I have more in the hall closet that you’re welcome to.”
“It’s okay. I’m good.” My cheeks and ears heat, and I know my face is red from getting caught in a crazy person moment.
Noah studies me for a moment before leaning forward and grabbing the blanket I had been eying while I try to disappear into the leather of the couch.
Before I can process Noah’s intentions, he drapes the blanket over me, leaning close to tuck the edges under my body in a cocoon. The deep sigh of contentment that his actions pull from my body has no chance of being silenced, and the tilt of Noah’s lips confirms it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Stop with the people pleasing bullshit, Jett. You want something? You tell me. No judgment, ever. Got me?”
The seriousness in Noah’s gaze is intense, but I fight the urge to look away. Instead, I nod and let the weight of the blanket and the lingering smell of teakwood settle my soul.
“Now, why this blanket? There’s at least five right there, and this seems to be the only one that passed your test.”
Pulling the blanket up higher, I covertly breathe in the scent of Noah again before answering. “It just feels right.” Sitting a little straighter, I add, “I don’t know how to exp—”
Noah holds up his hand to stop me. “You don’t owe me—or anyone—an explanation. If it feels right, that’s all that matters.”
I stare at this ruggedly handsome man who somehow fell into my life at the most inopportune time and can’t help myself. “Who are you?”
He chuckles, draping his arm over the back of the couch. For once, I don’t think. I just let myself react, leaning into the offered contact. I sink into his side as he answers.
“I’m just a dumb elevator guy who hates people.”
“Well, if that wasn’t self-deprecating, then I don’t know what is.”
His hand gently palms the top of my head, effectively holding me close. “Funny, funny girl.”
I glance up. “That’s a good musical. Hey, did you know number thirty-two is actually from Steele Valley? I met him a few times before he went to the big leagues.”
Noah laughs. “Yeah, I know Harrison. He’s a cool guy.”