Chapter 11
Eleven
Andie
Two days later, I’m posting on my secret fan account about Noah when my alarm for five goes off.
It’s not like I needed a reminder. It was just so I could fool myself into believing that being out with Noah is not the only thing I have on my mind.
Before I get out of bed, I make sure to upload the fan edits I made last night. Even before the Boston Bandits ever drafted Ezra, I’ve been a fan of Noah Miller, one of the best goalies in the league in decades.
Being the dedicated fan that I was, I secretly created a fan account and started posting edits of him, both on and off the ice. What I didn’t know was that my edits would garner millions of followers.
I’m astonished by the number of people who engage with my account just because they’re Noah’s fans too. I mean, who wouldn’t be? He’s a phenomenon when he’s goal-tending.
To date, no one knows who handles this account. Not even my best friend, Aurelia. And she knows everything. Well, almost everything, because she also doesn’t know about how I have made a deal with Noah.
She’d go ballistic if she found out, though. I giggle merely at the thought. Once done, I remove the blanket and get changed into an olive-colored dress that stops just above my thighs.
I love this dress, it’s light and makes me feel beautiful. Finishing my makeup, I’m finally satisfied with how I look with my hair in a half-updo. I pick up my phone to text Noah when I hear the doorbell ring.
Suddenly, nerves take hold of my body, and my stomach feels riddled with a swarm of butterflies.
Why am I nervous now? I so boldly asked him to help me explore my body and take my virginity. So, why do I feel jittery now?
The doorbell rings again as my phone lights up with a text from him, telling me that he’s here.
Sucking in a deep breath, I calm myself and recite my mantra.
You’re beautiful. You’re enough.
Grabbing the latest addition to the collection of my tote bags, I stride out and press the button for him to come up while I slip into my heels.
He’s soon on my floor, knocking on the door. Pushing the nerves aside, I open the door for him, only for my breath to get stuck in my throat. I drink him in like it’s the first time I have laid eyes on him.
With the way he’s dressed, I might as well have. Noah’s blond hair is wavy as ever, falling on his forehead as he’s clad in a brown shirt with the top few buttons open, giving a peek into his stacked pecs. And a pair of cream pants that make him look like sex on a stick.
My eyes flare wide, shocked at my own blunt thoughts. Rebuking myself, I will myself to my senses.
“You look beautiful,” he utters, and his eyes widen as if he didn’t mean to say that out loud.
I feel blush creeping on my hot cheeks. “Thank you. You clean up nice yourself,” I mumble, suddenly feeling shy as his eyes rake from my head to my toes.
Clearing his throat, he breaks the tension, “Let’s go.”
With a nod, I follow him and lock the door behind me.
* * *
“So, where are we going?” I ask him as I click the seat belt in place.
“You’ll see,” he shrugs with a smirk, revving the engine and shifting the gear, and soon we’re on the road.
“Oh, stop teasing me! I hate surprises,” I practically whine, causing him to chuckle at me. Once again, I’m entranced by his low baritone.
I wonder why he doesn’t laugh often when he sounds like that. I promise myself to give him a reason to experience the joy this life has to offer whenever I can.
One down. Many more to go.
“I think you’ll like this one,” he promises, the open windows of the car causing his hair to fall over his forest eyes. The brown of his shirt makes the green stand out.
He rakes a hand through his hair, his bicep bulging in the confines of the material. Suddenly, I wish I were the cloth on his body instead.
The sensuality that he oozes has me squeezing my thighs. I hide it with my tote bag, hoping he doesn’t catch the inappropriate movement.
But of course he does. Because he questions, casting me concerned glances, “Are you uncomfortable?”
Before I can answer, he switches on the Air Conditioner in the car, drawing the windows close. If he thinks that it’d help me, he’s dead wrong. Because now all I can breathe in is his leather and amber scent. They fill up my lungs, refusing to leave.
Not that I’m complaining. I like the way he smells, and he’d think of me as a pervert or maybe an obsessed little girl if he found that out.
Soon, thank heavens, we’re at our destination when he pulls the car to the curb in front of his apartment building, and rolls down the car into the parking lot.
“We’re going to your place?” I ask, my head swiveling toward him, my brows arched in confusion.
“We are,” he nods, reading my expressions to gauge how I feel. “I figured since we’re keeping it under wraps, my penthouse would be the safest place to be,” he explains, getting out of the car once parked and striding to my side to open my door.
“Thank you.” I smile at him, taking his hand and hopping down.
Crossing to the elevator, we’re soon on his floor, removing our footwear by the door. What I find inside, though, has me almost tripping over my own feet, as Noah catches me by my waist and quickly pulls his hands back, making sure I’m in no imminent danger.
Regardless of the way his touch spikes my temperature, I can’t focus on anything other than the sight that greets me. His entire living room is dimmed, with fairy lights hanging from the walls, bathing the room in warmth.
As I pad closer into the area, my fingers flutter over the softest blanket I’ve ever touched, draped on the couch. The low glass table covered with a variety of snacks and drinks that one could ever want.
“Noah?” I call out, my voice barely a whisper.
He steps closer, his body heat seeping in through my back, but not close enough that he’d have to stagger back in case someone caught us together—not that anyone will.
“Hmm,” he mumbles in question.
“What’s all this?” I dare ask, my eyes flitting over the display, greedily committing it to memory.
When I don’t hear him respond, I turn on my feet, tilting my chin to catch his eyes.
For the first time since I’ve known this man, he looks bashful. He rubs his neck as he hesitantly answers, “I thought we could spend some time and get comfortable with each other. Watch a movie or something to set the mood.”
No one has ever done anything like this for me. Something so sweet that I barely rein in the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. No one has ever bothered to ensure my comfort.
It makes me seem like a goody-two-shoes, but the truth is, I’ve always been a people pleaser. It was easy to please people when I was lean and slim; it was easier for them to look at me and like what they saw.
But as soon as my body started putting on weight, defying what people define as conventional beauty, that’s when people around me showed their true colors, shedding the beautiful masks that hid their ugly reality.
Regardless, Noah doesn’t need my embarrassing display of gratefulness. That’s not what he signed up for.
So, I take in a deep breath and give him a sweet smile, shoving the overflowing emotions into a dark corner of my mind. “Thank you, Noah. That’s very thoughtful of you.”
His shoulders drop in relief at my acceptance. “It’s nothing,” he gently shakes his head. Trudging over to the table and grabbing the remote to the large screen mounted on the wall, he puts on The Notebook, and my heart hammers in my chest.
It’s a total coincidence that he selected one of my comfort movies to watch, yet that brings a small smile to my face. “It’s my favorite movie!” I tell him, making my way to sit on the couch.
“I know,” he says, offhandedly, like he didn’t just admit to knowing something important about me.
My heart threatens to burst out of my ribcage, but I force myself not to overreact and quietly enjoy the movie.
Grabbing a glass from the table, I sip on the juice and try to lose myself in the movie, which is difficult with the apprehension of how tonight will go, fluttering in my stomach.
* * *
The longing the characters of The Notebook feel is something akin to mine. The only difference is I’ve never been loved, not the way Noah Calhoun loved Allie Hamilton his entire life.
I wonder what it would be like to have someone love you so entirely, completely, and selflessly. I wonder what it would be like to be kissed like her in the rain. To be worshiped inside the walls built with utter devotion.
All my fantasies come to a screeching halt when I feel a slight touch at the back of my neck. To most, it might seem insignificant, but for me, it’s the spark that ignites my body, setting it on fire.
My gaze slowly turns to Noah to find him already looking at me with lust in his eyes. When he continues caressing my neck with the rough pads of his fingers, my skin tingles, and I let my head fall to the side to grant him more access.
Noah shifts closer, his fingers now tangled in my hair. The slight pull at them has me opening my eyes. I didn’t even realize they fell shut.
His gaze bores into mine as he searches for a sign of distress, but I want this.
“Are you sure, Andie?” he gently asks one more time, his raspy voice making me press my thighs together. He doesn’t miss that action as his eyes flicker to my lap and back, jaw shut tight.
I nod, answering him with complete honesty. “I want you, Noah,” I whisper, unable to raise my voice at the need coursing through me.
The words are barely out of my mouth when I feel myself airborne. I squeal, “Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Noah growls, his eyes laser-focused on the path in front of him as I wrap my arms around his corded neck—neck I want to bite into as his pulse hammers in tandem with my heart, but I’m not sure if he’ll like that, so I refrain.
As he carries me to his bedroom, I know I should be afraid, feel shy, and apprehensive. But none of those feelings even enter my mind. All I can feel is the desperate need for him. I don’t even care that he’s just going with what I ask. I don’t care if he has agreed to be with me out of pity.
The journey to his room seems like it’s the longest minute of my life. Noah kicks the door open with his foot and gently lays me down on his bed. Pulling back, he walks as far from the bed as possible.
My eyes glance around the room, and it’s almost the same as his guest room, just bigger and feels even more vacant. No picture frames or collectibles. Just plain walls and furniture.
I don’t ponder much on it, though. Not when his eyes are glued to me.
Noah’s emerald eyes rake over my body, his nose flaring when they reach my thighs, the dress now ridden up as it barely covers my panties.
He fists his hand, keeping them pinned to his sides as if restraining himself from touching me.
Even though I know it’s wishful thinking, I let myself believe that.
“Safe word, Andie?” he growls.
“We don’t need th—”
His eyes dart to me, burning hot. “Safe word, Andie?” he repeats.
Excitement shoots through me, my fingers curling around the bed sheet at what this might mean. Is he that ferocious in bed that he needs me to choose a safe word?
His eyebrow arches at me, waiting for me as his shirt barely clings to his body, threatening to rip apart his broad shoulders with every strained breath he takes.
With an audible gulp, I say the first thing that comes to mind, “Pumpkin?”
His lip twitches at my response. “Okay. Remember to say that the second you want me to stop.”
I nod, my heart in my throat, desperately waiting for him to just do something. Anything! Before I combust, preferably.
Noah takes his sweet time removing his shirt. Tortuously slow as he opens one button at a time, teasing me. How can something as mundane as undoing a shirt look so stinking hot?
“Hurry!” I whine, my hands unable to hold my weight anymore as I drop on my elbows, tilting my head to see his tall frame at the edge of the bed.
Noah doesn’t respond to my words, just smirks. He’s enjoying seeing me squirm in desperation.
The way he looks at me, though, doesn’t make me feel self-conscious about my weight, my body. If anything, he’s had enough experience that he can easily make me feel like I’m beautiful even if it’s not true.
His gaze makes me bold. And when his movements seem to drag on, I decide that two can play this game. I do something I might’ve never done if he were literally anyone else.
I spread my legs open and let my wet underwear on display.