Chapter Nine Noah
Chapter Nine
Noah
I’m being a dick.
Worse? I know I’m being a dick, yet I can’t seem to stop.
Odette thinks it’s because I’m angry over Chelsea getting engaged, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. No, I didn’t know about my ex-wife’s engagement, but I still don’t care. It’s not why I’m pissed off.
I’m angry because every time I’ve looked at Odette today, I had to talk my dick down.
I know that’s a me problem and not a her problem, but it still pissed me off.
I should be able to control myself. Just because she’s wearing impossibly short shorts that damn near show off her ass cheeks and a T-shirt that hugs every single curve doesn’t mean I need to react to it. It doesn’t mean I have to want to peel each article of clothing off her.
And it certainly doesn’t mean that I have to take my frustration out on her.
I’ll admit, I didn’t expect things to get so heated with her out in the barn.
I had no idea that was why she was so invested in this project.
It makes sense, though. I know the curse weighs on her.
She might be a little flippant about it and crack jokes, but I see how it affects her.
She fully believes this thing controls her destiny.
I wish she could see that it’s not some curse. Sometimes things happen for no reason. Sometimes relationships don’t work out. And sometimes good people, like Odette and the rest of her family, get the short end of the stick no matter what they do.
My eyes drift to her as she sits across from Izzy on the couch. One leg is tucked under the other, a notebook sitting on her lap and the cap of a pen lodged between her teeth. My sister is going on about something and Odette’s listening intently, scribbling something on her paper every so often.
I have no doubt they’re talking about wedding stuff.
Just because I said Iz could have the wedding here, I didn’t mean I wanted them to plan it here too.
But after today, I don’t have the heart to kick them out.
I screwed up. I shouldn’t have let Odette think I didn’t appreciate her help. I do, even if she is the most distracting thing on the planet.
When I see she’s low on cider, I fill a new glass with Neutral Zone for her and a Face Off for my sister, then drop the drinks off to them.
“Thanks, Bubs,” Izzy says, but I’m not paying attention to her. I’m looking at Odette, who avoids eye contact with me.
Fuck. I really screwed up.
Whatever, though. It’s for the best.
“It’s no big deal,” I mutter, then sulk back behind the bar.
Even though I was out in the barn all day and am tired as hell, I’m still behind the counter helping out where I can.
If I’m being honest, I don’t want to be home alone. All I’ll do is replay the conversation with Odette, just like I did when I ran home to shower after our fight.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt look on her face when I said the curse was bullshit. How betrayed she looked.
Worse? I didn’t even mean it. Not really.
Not when I understand why she believes she’s cursed.
I felt like I was a few times during my career, which is why I built so many rituals.
My pregame meal was always the same. My warm-up routine never wavered.
I taped my sticks just so. Hell, I even measured my laces, so they were cut to an exact length.
They were my own superstitions to keep my game where I needed it.
My own way of taking control so that if I failed, I could at least say I gave it my all.
I miss those days sometimes. The rigidity of the schedule. The certainty of what the day would hold. And I sure as fuck miss the feeling of being on the ice. The calmness it brought me. The peace. I could use that right now, especially after my fight with Odette.
“You okay?”
I turn to find Ezra standing at the end of the bar, arms crossed over his chest, eyes hard as he watches me watch Odette. I didn’t even realize I was looking at her again until now.
I quickly grab a towel and start cleaning a glass that doesn’t need it—anything to make myself look busy so I won’t be caught fixating on Odette.
“Yup. All good. Why?” I ask casually.
“Probably because you’re staring at your little sister’s best friend like you want to clear this place out and throw her on the table, then have your way with her?”
The glass goes tumbling to the floor, splintering into tiny pieces.
This bar is way too busy for him to be saying shit like that.
Several people look our way at the ruckus—including Odette and Izzy—and Ezra laughs as he walks behind the bar, grabbing the broom we keep stashed in a tiny alcove.
“What the fuck?” I say to him, taking the broom from his outstretched hand. “Why the hell would you say that?”
“Uh, because it’s true.”
“It is not.” I cast a quick glance at the bar, making sure nobody can hear him. The only person sitting nearby is Uli from the diner, but he looks so invested in his phone that I’m not too worried about him. “Now shut the fuck up before I fire you.”
“We’re fifty-fifty partners. You couldn’t fire me even if you wanted to, which you don’t. You just don’t like that I’m right.”
“Shut up.”
It’s a juvenile comeback, but it’s all that I have.
He is right. It’s exactly what I want to do to Odette, and I fucking hate myself for it.
I sweep up the glass, dump it into a bag, then thrust it at my business partner. “Take this shit out.”
He laughs, shaking his head at me. “Someone’s in trouble. Capital T and everything.”
“Ezra . . .” I growl.
He doesn’t look the least bit threatened, laughing the whole way out of the taproom.
I go back to polishing my already-clean glasses, anything to act natural and not think about what he said. I replay that exact scenario over and over again in my head.
What would Odette say if I marched over and kissed her? Would she kiss me back? Would she beg for more? Would she let me kick every damn patron out and have my way with her on the coffee table I built?
Fuck, I hope so, and I hate that I hope so.
“Noah! Noah!”
I lift my head to find Izzy waving me over.
“Come here!” she calls.
“No!” Odette smacks her arm down. “Stop it, Iz.”
Of course, Izzy ignores her, and all it does is make me curious.
I drop the towel I was using to wipe down the counter and make my way over there.
“Uh, yeah?” I ask, darting my eyes between my sister and a very grumpy Odette.
Dirt and grime from our barn duties still cover her crossed arms. Her hair is a wreck, pieces sticking out every which way, and the safety goggles I forced upon her earlier are still sitting on top of her head. I wonder if she even realizes it or if exhaustion has set in that much.
“Noah, tell Odette she can’t come solo to my wedding.”
The woman in question huffs, blowing one of her errant hairs out of the way. When it falls again, she shoves it back up. She seems startled when she touches the goggles. She pulls them off her head with surprise.
I guess that answers my question.
“Why?” I say to Izzy. “I’m coming solo to your wedding too.”
“What?!” she practically screeches. “You are not!”
“Uh, yeah, I am.”
“No, you can’t.” She looks at Odette. “You can’t either.”
“I’m kind of busy planning the thing. I don’t have time to find a date.”
“Then go with Noah.”
“What?!”
I’m not sure which one of us says it louder, Odette or me.
Either way, we’re both looking at Izzy incredulously.
She is officially out of her mind.
Me? Go on a date with Odette? Yeah, fucking right.
Izzy laughs. “You two are acting like I’m asking you to get married. It’s just a date. One night. I don’t see the harm. Besides, you’ll both be in the same pictures with me anyway. It just makes sense.”
“The harm is that I don’t want to date Odette.”
Odette looks up at me like she’s offended. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so disgusting that you couldn’t possibly fathom dating me.”
That’s not at all what I meant. If anything, the opposite.
But I can’t tell her that. Not in general, but certainly not with Izzy sitting right here. She might think it’s harmless for her brother and best friend to go on a date for an evening, but it’s not as meaningless as she thinks, especially not with my growing attraction to Odette.
So, no, I don’t correct her. I let her continue believing that’s the exact reason I won’t be her date.
It’s safer that way. Smarter. No risk.
“First of all, Odette is a babe, and you’re an ass.”
Odette makes a disgruntled noise. “You can say that again. He’s been one all day.”
Izzy gasps. “Is this because of your ex-wife? I saw she’s marrying that football guy. He’s hot.” She waggles her brows suggestively at Odette.
I hate that Odette seems to agree, and I don’t know why. I shouldn’t care who Odette thinks is attractive at all.
“Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”
“Uh, because it’s sort of a big deal. Chelsea has moved on, but you haven’t.”
I grit my teeth together at Izzy’s comments. “Because there’s nothing to ‘move on’ from. I was over the relationship long before we even got divorced. You know that.”
“Then why haven’t you been on a date since? And why won’t you go on a date with Odette?”
“Yeah, Noah,” Odette says, smirking up at me. “Why won’t you go on a date with me?”
“So you want to go on a date with me?” I toss back at her, enjoying far too much the way her face falls with shock.
She never expected me to turn that back around and put her in the hot seat for a change.
“That’s sweet. I’m touched. No, flattered.” I put my hand over my chest, returning that same cocky smirk she gave me. “But I don’t think of you that way, darlin’. You’re like a sister to me.”
Her mouth drops open, and I can’t help myself.
I reach out, tuck one finger under her chin, and push her mouth closed. “Better close that before you let a fly in.”
Ezra’s smirking at me when I walk back to the bar.
“What?” I bark at him, that same crankiness returning tenfold.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, still fucking smirking. “Nothing at all.”