Chapter 8 Noah
EIGHT
NOAH
A woman I barely know shouldn’t have the ability to silence every thought in my head.
Her mere presence shouldn’t push me into living in the moment in a way that only hockey ever has.
I don’t have the patience or capacity to sit and watch television or a movie.
If I want to relax, I’m better off with a crossword puzzle challenging enough to require deep focus.
Topics that require studying before I can understand them. Sometimes even a good book.
But never a person.
Yet here Sienna is, an exception to that rule.
Spending hours going from spot to spot, taking in one incredible view after another, leaves my mind empty of everything but her.
My entire focus is fixed on her, the rainbow-colored fish swimming below us, the coral, and the salt water that drips from her lips when we surface so we can board the catamaran.
The track it takes down her chin, onto her neck, and between her breasts is a line I’d like to trace with my tongue.
The second the thought crosses my mind, I blow out a breath and look away from her. If I don’t get myself under control, I’m liable to pull her flush to my body and kiss the ever-loving shit out of her.
It’s insane that I’m more attracted to her right now, with a set of goggles covering her face and a snorkel dangling beside her cheek, than I’ve ever been to another person.
“You are a man of mixed signals,” she says, her tone flat as we tread water to stay afloat while we wait for our turn near the ladder.
Aggravated with myself, I turn my eyes to the cloudless sky and consider how deep my explanation should go.
She slides the goggles off and dips beneath the water, coming up with her head tipped back so her wet hair cascades down and clings to her shoulders. “Forget it. You were very clear when you moved rooms. Thanks for swimming with me.”
Fuck.
She turns, but before she can slip away, I grab her hand. “It’s not what you think.”
With one brow arched, she peers at me over her shoulder, silently saying Yeah, buddy, really?
“I had fun last night. I did, really. I just—” I tug on her hand until she turns back, then I pull the goggles off my head, feeling like an idiot for having this conversation through the glass.
She frowns, her green eyes not nearly as bright as they should be when surrounded by tropical waters.
I rough a hand through my hair, then drag it down my face. “But then I heard something I shouldn’t have last night, and I had all these thoughts—” I snap my mouth shut and swallow past the lump that’s formed in my throat.
I know she knows exactly what I’m talking about, though her expression gives nothing away. She doesn’t even blush.
After several silent heartbeats, her mouth kicks up on one side and she nibbles ever so slightly on her bottom lip. “Did you consider that maybe I left my doors open on purpose? That I wanted you to hear?”
Without waiting for a response, she dips beneath the water and swims back to the boat.
I stay where I am, every kick that keeps me from sinking below the water painful as I wait for the boner that’s just sprung to dissipate.
Even long after we’ve gotten out of the water, she holds my attention, and I don’t know what to do about that.
The ride back on the catamaran is rough. The wind has picked up, and the waves force us to the back of the boat. I’m irrationally annoyed because I hoped I could have a few minutes up front with Sienna to talk about what she said. Figure out what she meant.
My attitude is absurd. We’re not in a relationship. I barely know the woman. We shouldn’t need to talk anything out. Yet I crave her words. Crave her nearness.
Instead, Eddy hovers at her side, chatting away. Entertaining her.
“Tell Eddy you need a drink,” I mumble to Ernie.
“So you can talk to the girl?” He cocks a brow. “Nah, I’d rather you let your balls drop and go interrupt them yourself.”
I’m used to crude comments and locker room talk. I just don’t normally engage. Today is no different. Rather than argue with him, I lean back, hoping someone, anyone, will need something from Eddy and do the interrupting for me.
Though as I sit and wait and scan the group, it seems like they all have full drinks and are happy to flirt among themselves.
So before long, I find myself watching, once again, as Eddy chats up Sienna, making her eyes dance and pulling genuine laughs from her.
She’s holding the straw of her drink to her mouth, biting down on it every few seconds and smiling.
Thank fuck she pulled a sweatshirt on when the wind picked up. If I had to watch him flirt with her while she was nearly naked, I might actually lose it.
As we get close to port, Eddy gets up. But before I can collect myself and move closer, the two women in their forties approach Sienna and fall into conversation.
I’m hanging back until I can get a moment alone when Eddy calls out to the group.
“Ride is over. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!
” Around me, laughs ring out, and one by one, the other snorkelers step off the boat, all smiles.
As we shuffle closer to the exit point, I make sure I slide in behind Sienna.
Once we’re on the dock, I’ll apologize and explain.
But before I can, Eddy grabs her arm and pulls her to the side.
“There’s a dance party tonight on the beach. I’m working it. Will you come?”
With no more than a second’s hesitation and a big smile, she says, “That sounds fun.”
I fight back a shudder and bow my head. It sounds miserable.
Sand, alcohol, sweaty bodies, and loud music?
All I want is to sit in a quiet corner with this woman.
To talk to her for hours like we did last night.
I want to laugh with her, and maybe, fuck, maybe hear those sounds she made last night from a little closer. Say, while I’m inside her.
Yes, my dick thickens at the image that pops into my head.
Whether we get to that last part or not, I need to talk to her. Determined, I lift my head. Only to find she’s gone.
I’m still looking around, searching for her, when Ernie squeezes my shoulder. “Come on, son. Let us show you to your new room.”
It takes Ernie and Bert half an hour to pack up and another half hour for the cleaning crew to come through.
The guys asked me to meet them for a late dinner.
I should go. If I don’t, I’ll end up sitting in this small room with one lone window looking out at the air conditioning unit and the building next door.
Really, I should go to the beach party. Find the woman I can’t stop thinking about. I could stop her from dancing with anyone else. I could, I don’t know, ask her to dance with me.
I scoff and drop my head back against the headboard. What am I, fifteen? Why is this so hard?
Rather than make a decision, I scroll through Instagram. War posted a photo of himself with Brooks and a few other guys who look vaguely familiar at what looks like a cookout. The caption reads New team, who dis?
I chuckle, take a screenshot, and shoot him a text.
Me: You’re an idiot.
His response is immediate.
War: You know you miss me.
With a sigh, I lie back on one of the beds. Because, yeah, there are two. The empty one beside me is a painful reminder of just how alone I am. When traveling for the last few years, War and I always shared a room.
Until now, I hadn’t considered who I might bunk with.
Hopefully not one of the rookies. Maybe I’ll get my own room.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a roommate other than when we traveled.
War was easy to put up with. We liked hanging out together.
If he brought a woman back to the hotel—which happened pretty often, actually—he’d kick a pair of rookies out of their room for a few hours.
Asshole.
War: How’s the upgrade? Send me a pic.
I scan the room. Shit. This isn’t going to cut it.
Before I can come up with an excuse, my phone vibrates, and the screen flashes with a FaceTime request.
Groaning, I accept it. If I don’t answer, he’ll keep calling until I do. “Hello?”
“Harry!” War yells.
The nickname is immediately echoed by another familiar voice. When he flips the camera, Brooks is grinning at me, a spoonful of ice cream inches from his lips.
“Hi, guys.” I offer a stupid wave and settle back in the bed.
“Show us the digs,” War says.
“Where are you?” I ask in a lame attempt to distract him.
“The pad. Most of the team lives here. Moneybags over here owns the whole building.” War nods at Brooks, who’s now beside him so I can see both guys at once.
Brooks rolls his eyes. “My brothers own it; I do not.”
“Not me.” Aiden Langfield pops up on War’s other side, upside down, like he’s hovering over the guys, wearing a wide smile.
Even if he weren’t Brooks’s brother, I’d recognize him. He’s one of the greats at our game. He’s a couple of years younger than the rest of us, but the guy is already slated to end up in the hall of fame.
With a grunt, War pulls the phone back. “As I was saying…” He glares over the top of his phone, probably at Aiden. “Their family owns it and we all live here. Like a bunch of monkeys. This way they can keep an eye on us.”
“I’m watching you,” a female calls from close by.
“Oh, we know,” War mumbles. He gets real close to the screen and whisper-hisses, “Sara is the head of PR. She’s wicked hot but super scary.”
Brooks punches him in the arm. “Don’t be a dick.”
Blue eyes dancing with mischief, War throws a thumb toward Brooks. “And he’s in love with her.”
“I’m going to kill you,” my gentle giant of a friend curses. A second later, he’s gone.
War drops his head back and chuckles. “So I’m making friends and settling in. What are you doing? Or better yet, who are you doing?”
A sigh slips out of me without my permission. “I’m just hanging in the room.”
War frowns, bringing the phone closer to his face. “That’s—dude, why the fuck aren’t you outside? Or inside a woman?”
“Gross,” Sara, I assume, calls off screen.
Huffing a laugh, I shake my head. “Calm yourself. I spent the day snorkeling. With a woman,” I add for good measure.
“Oh.” He sits up straighter, his dark brows high on his forehead. “Are you in her room?”
“Yes,” I lie. “She’s in the shower.”
His lips kick up on one side. “Fuck yes. Is she hot?”
Mouth shut tight, I glare at him. He knows I don’t talk like that.
He gives up quickly, leaning back against the cushions behind him. “Whatever. All right, go get in that shower. And don’t call me again until you get home.”
“You called me,” I argue.
He chuckles. “Don’t pick up next time. Go fuck. Swim. Do something. Stop being such an old man. And if I see one goddamn crossword puzzle the next time we video chat, you’re a dead man.”
I huff out a breath, but I’m smiling. He knows me well.
The screen goes dark before I have a chance to respond, and the room goes silent again.
With a sigh, I navigate to Jen’s contact and send her a text, checking in and ensuring she’s still feeling okay.
Then I type out a message to Hannah. She’s on the Boston Revs PR team, so this is her busy season.
She’s traveling, which it seems she does even more than I do, but she says things are good.
She loves her job. Now that I think about it, she probably knows Sara, and from the way Sara handled War and Brooks, I bet she and my sister get along well.
That makes me smile. Hannah deserves the world. She hasn’t had the easiest life, but she’s one of the best people I know.
My phone buzzes, and a notification banner appears, so I tap on it.
Jen: Feeling good. Based on what the doctor said yesterday, it’s not likely I’ll have this baby until you’re back for summer camp.
Right. Because preseason training starts next week. And in a matter of weeks after that, I’ll be a dad.
War’s right. Why the fuck am I sitting in this room like an old man? Yes, I have a kid on the way, and yes, my life is about to change. But I’m not a dad yet.
I’ve got two more days in paradise. After that, trips like this will be impossible, so I better make the time worth remembering.
I’m going after Sienna. Fuck it.