Chapter 36 Noah
THIRTY-SIX
NOAH
Bedtime is always an event. My kid has so much to say. Tonight, the conversation went on for a solid hour. The topic: how amazing Sienna is.
I listened patiently, but with every new detail he raved about, all I could think was, Yeah, I feel the same.
He wants to know if we can spend more time with her, if I think she likes Dungeons and Dragons like us, and Star Wars. He hopes she likes to try new recipes like we do and begs me to invite her to come with us to Montana this summer.
Once again, our thoughts are aligned. But I don’t want to get my kid’s hopes up, so I answer with a vague We’ll see, buddy.
Knowing my kid loves her only solidifies my plan.
I’ve got to find a way to convince Sienna to give us a real shot.
To understand that her last name doesn’t scare me.
Though I hope it doesn’t come to it, if I’m forced to choose between her and her brothers, Sienna wins, hands down. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
As I’m rinsing my toothbrush, my phone lights up on the counter. And when her name appears on the screen, a shot of fucking elation zips through me. For the second time this week, she’s reaching out. It’s another step in the right direction.
Sienna: Can you come to the door?
Grinning, I type out a quick yes. Then I hustle toward the door, and without pausing to check the peephole, I throw it open.
In a pair of white linen pajamas, with her hair up in a high ponytail, she stands at my door, face flushed. At the sight of her, my heart takes off at a gallop. Without fail, when I look into those green eyes of hers, my pulse races. She owns me.
“Did you mean it?” Her voice is quiet, her question direct.
But my brain glitches while I search for a response.
“Mean what?” I mean everything I say, but I want to be clear with her right now.
She takes me in from head to toe. “The butterfly. The reason you have the tattoo.”
I step a little closer, keeping the door propped open with one foot. “I probably would have phrased my explanation a little differently if Ollie hadn’t been there, but yes, I meant every word.”
With her head tipped back, and her green eyes so focused, it feels like she’s searching my soul. “How would you have phrased it?”
“I would have told you that I inked the butterfly on my skin so that every time I looked in the mirror, I’d remember the most beautiful woman I’d ever met.
A striking, charming person I was lucky enough to share two perfect days with.
A woman I didn’t want to cage, which meant I had to let her go.
I didn’t tell you about Ollie then because you had so many big things coming for you.
But I never, not for one single day, forgot you.
I wanted you close. So I got this tattoo to keep you with me. ”
I press my hand to my chest, over the spot where she’s memorialized.
“I got it so I’d remember that I’m not broken. That I know love because of you.”
Her eyes sparkle like turquoise waters late in the evening, her hand drifting out in front of her. She flexes it into a fist like she’s both eager to touch me and a little afraid. She stares at my chest, at the spot she’s almost touching, then lifts her eyes to mine. “Can I see it?”
With my eyes on hers, I drag my shirt up over my head and then toss it inside the room. We’re still in the doorway, my foot holding it open just a smidge.
Sienna steps forward, and her fingers brush my skin with the barest of touches. She pulls back a fraction, but then she’s pressing her fingers to the tattoo in earnest. I hiss as a jolt of electricity shocks my heart.
Slowly, she traces the outline of the butterfly inked over my heart with her nails. It’s the only tattoo on my chest. I have others on my back and arms, but this spot is reserved for her and her alone. My heart. My butterfly. And hopefully, one day, my girl.
When her eyes meet mine again, they’re glassy, and as she gives me the softest of smiles, her lips tremble. “Thank you.”
Between one breath and the next, she’s gone, dashing down the hall, like if she stays any longer, she knows she’ll latch on to me and never let go.
All week, during our downtime, Sienna joins us on our adventures.
In Chicago, we eat deep-dish pizza and visit the Willis Tower, the tallest building in the city.
There are little glass enclosures at the top, and as we step out onto the glass floor more than one hundred levels up, Sienna and Ollie discover I have a fear of heights.
The two of them gang up on me, bouncing and snapping photos while I press my hands to the glass and beg the universe not to send us all tumbling fourteen hundred feet to our deaths so soon after bringing Sienna back to me.
In Nashville, we listen to honky-tonk and take Ollie out for biscuits and gravy with fried chicken for breakfast. He’s a huge fan. Then we hit up the zoo that afternoon.
During all our adventures, we talk about hockey. At breakfast, I use salt and pepper shakers to demonstrate plays. At lunch, I use a pizza crust hockey stick and a chunk of sausage to represent the puck.
After Ollie goes to bed, we watch film. While I prepare for upcoming games, I explain the plays, the terminology, and the general culture.
We don’t touch. We definitely don’t kiss. And I try to keep the flirting to a minimum. She, on the other hand, slips up pretty regularly, and fuck if I don’t love every second of it.
I have to drop my little guy off with Jen before our game in Minnesota, so I leave Sienna with the rest of the team and hope that all the progress we made wasn’t for nothing.
She has to return to Boston the day I’m headed to Minnesota, so we miss each other completely. When she texts to tell me, disappointment is a heavy weight in my gut. After spending so much time together, I crave her more than I ever did.
When my phone lights up with a text from her two days later, I scramble for it, acting like a damn teenager, my heart thumping in my chest.
Sienna: I have to know, how did the hug go?
I laugh out loud and all my worries fade away.
Me: Apparently, there’s a whole story that goes along with it, so he won’t share until I see him in person.
Sienna: Oh my god, I love that kid. He’s hysterical.
Pride and affection swell within me. Ollie is great. And knowing Sienna recognizes that only makes me more desperate to see her, to push this thing along.
Me: What are you doing?
Sienna: Like currently?
I laugh at her question.
Me: Yes. Though if you want to talk about life goals and what you want your future to look like or where you see us in five years, I’m down for that too.
The dots dance on my screen, then stop. They start up again, and when they disappear a second time, my heart sinks. Shit. Maybe I pushed it too far, flirted too overtly.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, a message appears.
Sienna: I’m sketching a dress for Liv.
She may have ignored the flirting, but getting a response at all is a win.
Me: For what?
Sienna: Can I call you? It’s hard to type and draw at the same time. If you’re busy, though, we can talk later.
I hang my head and grin. As if I’d ever be too busy for her.
I settle back on my hotel bed and click the icon to call her.
Sienna picks up right away, but she’s wearing a scowl.
She’s still gorgeous. Her dark hair is up in a messy bun on top of her head, with soft wisps framing her makeup-free face.
I’m pretty sure there’s a smudge of chocolate on her chin, and her green eyes are vibrant.
The icing on the cake of this incredible view is the way her black sweater falls off one shoulder, hinting at the absence of a bra.
“You don’t FaceTime someone without warning,” she admonishes.
“You accepted.”
Her eyes widen. “Still. I could have been naked.”
I cough out a laugh. “Again. You didn’t have to answer. And you won’t hear me complaining.”
“Noah.” There’s that chiding tone again that makes my cock ache.
“Sienna.”
She rolls her eyes and looks away, but there’s no hiding the grin splitting her face.
I can’t look away from her. Not after six long years of wanting. Of dreaming I’d get a simple moment like this with her one day. I won’t take one second for granted.
“You got me to call you,” I tease. “So go on. Tell me what you’re working on.”
She breathes out a surprised laugh. “Got you to call me?”
“You asked me to, didn’t you?”
She rolls her eyes again.
Fuck, it’s fun talking to her. Outside the guys, I spend very little time talking to adults. But it’s easy sinking back into this banter with her.
I wish I didn’t have to work so hard to get her here, but I can’t deny I’m enjoying the hell out of the chase.
The screen gets blurry for a moment, and when it clears again, she sits back, her hands free, giving me an even better view.
She’s seated on the floor in her living room, leaning against the couch, with the phone propped up on the coffee table.
Nearby, there’s a set of colored pencils laid out and a pad of paper.
“So tell me about this dress,” I prod.
She picks up a pencil and leans forward, focusing on her drawing rather than on the screen. “Beckett asked me to design a dress for Liv for this gala my family is throwing. It’s for a little girl, Josie. I think you know her—”
I nod. “War’s daughter.”
“Yup.” Her lips tip up lightly. “Everyone will be dressed in varying shades of pink, since that’s her favorite color.”
“It is.” I grin at her. “Everything that girl owns is pink. Pretty sure she paints War’s nails pink before every game and insists he does it when he travels.”
Sienna lifts her chin, eyeing me. “Really?”
“Yeah, War’s an awesome dad. Josie’s foster parents abandoned her when she was diagnosed with cancer. Did you know that?”
Lips parted in shock, she shakes her head.
I settle back against the couch cushion. “The team—your brother—stepped up and made sure she got everything she needed.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “My brother’s got a big heart.”