3. Noah
Chapter three
Noah
Trial period.
I push the door open to Ford’s house, noticing all the cars already in the driveway. Clearly, I’m the last one here. Great, more questions on my whereabouts. I don’t get why they can’t just leave it alone and understand that I don’t need to share everything about my life with them.
I make my way inside and find the girls in the kitchen, while the guys sit in the living room with the kids, playing an NHL game on the Xbox. “Ladies.” I turn on the charm as I approach them, kissing all their cheeks. First Aubrey, who blushes intensely, then Cecilia, Morgan, and Emma.
I don’t miss the glare thrown my way when Grey spots me kissing his girlfriend’s cheek. He’s a pretty jealous guy. And I’m guessing the fact that Gabe and I have already had our fun with her still pisses him off, even if they were friendly encounters and it happened years ago.
I stop in front of the girl I’ve been fantasizing about for so many months now. “Veronica.” Her name tastes like the sweetest honey on my tongue. “How is it that you keep getting more and more beautiful every time I lay eyes on you?”
She leans back against the counter, hands holding on to either side. A sliver of lust twinkles in her eyes only for a split second before disappearing as a smirk forms on her bow-shaped lips, the lower one being a little heavier than the top.
“Always the charmer, Casanova.” Ah, the famous nickname she gave me the very first day we met. Not exactly the name I’d want to carry, but since it comes from her, I’ll take it.
I slide my hand along her hip, gently resting it there.
I give her a second to recognize my touch before leaning in and grazing her cheek with my lips.
I never know how Ronnie will react when I get too close, because even though she acts tough, I see the way her body tenses when people come close.
The way her shoulders straighten, how the pulse in her neck picks up speed, even the slight tremble in her hands and that faraway look she gets from time to time.
Then there was that time I kissed her at Gracie’s birthday party while Gabe and I were having a little fun teasing her with her slim body stuck between ours. When she turned her head my way, I took my shot, which resulted in me getting slapped and being told to never do that again.
I was stunned after the blow, but what really shocked me was the look she held in her eyes. Not anger, but fear. I’m not sure what her story is, but I know there’s one. I don’t buy the front she puts up for everyone.
I take in a big whiff of her scent before pulling away slightly, my hand staying glued to her hip. When our eyes meet, I find hers searching mine.
“Are you okay?” she asks quietly with concern, as if we’re having a private conversation.
Her question startles me for a moment, like it does every time. She never asks where I was, what I was doing, or why I’m late. Instead, she asks if I’m okay. As if she can sense something’s off and worries about me.
And even when I lie and say, “Yeah, Kitten. I’m okay.” She doesn’t call me out on it; she sticks by my side until I finally believe the words myself.
I reluctantly remove my hand from her body and settle beside her against the counter. She takes the smallest step closer to me and bumps her shoulder into mine. Veronica is taller than the average woman, and with her four-inch stilettos, she stands almost as tall as I do at six-foot-two and a half.
That’s another thing I love about this woman. I’ve never really cared for short girls. I like being able to throw my arm around her shoulders properly and kiss her without having to lower myself like Silas does with Cecilia.
“You’re late again, Adler.” Clay appears in the kitchen, heading to the fridge to grab a beer.
“Yup,” I answer directly, not bothering to look at him. I can hear the judgment in his voice.
“Where were you?” He folds his arms over his chest, beer bottle still in hand.
My head snaps his way as I work my jaw. “Does it matter? I’m here now,” I bite out.
He frowns as his pale gray eyes assess me. Clay’s always been good at reading people. And I’m guessing whatever he reads off me tells him I’m not in the mood and that it’s none of his business where I was.
Finally, he nods, but before leaving and returning to his spot on the couch, his eyes flick to Veronica, then back to me. There’s a question in his gaze, but he doesn’t speak it as he exits the kitchen.
I’m guessing by now everyone knows about me and Gabe’s current situation involving Veronica. One I’m thankful no one has brought up yet, but I know we’ll have to discuss it by the end of the night. I need to convince her to stay. Not just in our home, but with me.
GAbrIEL
“So, what’s the deal with you guys?” Greyson asks, pulling my attention away from watching my feisty Vixen.
She stands next to my best friend, their shoulders brushing up against each other. It irritates me that she doesn’t pull away, that she doesn’t push him off like she does with me. Although I think she may slowly be warming up to me as well. At least, I hope.
I don’t think I’ve ever craved someone quite like Ronnie.
I can’t explain this desire I feel for her; it’s as if I was hit in the chest by a lightning bolt the moment she came into my life.
Even all my conquests since then have greatly dulled.
Of course, there’s still a lot of hooking up with bunnies, but I never feel satisfied by the end.
Like something is missing, or someone. I don’t know what I’ll do if she never gives me a chance.
“Who?” I flick my gaze to his before turning it to the TV.
“You, Adler, and Ronnie?” He lifts a brow.
“Yeah, will she really be working for you two? Sorry, but I don’t see her wanting to spend more time with you guys.” Silas chuckles.
“She will,” I say undoubtedly.
“You sure about that?” Clay asks.
I deliver my best grin that charms people instantly. Well, except for my Vixen, apparently. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll convince her to stay on.” And finish with a wink.
Greyson scoffs. “If you plan on convincing her the same way you convince women to sleep with you, you’d better start looking for a replacement right away.”
I smile and lean back in the armchair. “Nah, you’ll see. With those chicks it never takes much convincing. We’ll bring out the big guns for Ronnie.” He doesn’t look convinced, none of them do, but I know we’ll win her over.
“If you say so,” Clay answers, ending the conversation.
My gaze returns to my dream girl as I try to think of a way to keep her with us. All my attempts up to now have been futile. She’s a hard one to crack. I can’t figure her out, no matter how hard I try, but I find myself wanting to know everything about her.
If she has any birthmarks along her body or maybe scars?
What her feet look like bare. Does she match the nail polish on her toes to the color of her hair?
What makes her nose wrinkle up in distaste?
What does a real laugh falling from her lips sound like?
Because the ones she gives us aren’t real, they’re all fake. I would know; I deliver them daily.
Sometimes when I watch her, which happens a lot, I notice the small little ticks she has.
Whether it’s to certain words, loud noises, or people getting too close, her shoulders will tighten and instinctively rise.
Her smile will falter for a split second, but she immediately replaces it with a strained one.
Then she’ll deliver that fake laugh that has a hint of nervousness lingering in it while her hands ball into fists before stretching out.
Over and over again she repeats the movement as if she’s trying to convince herself of something, like the feeling of her nails digging into her palm somehow grounds her.
I recognize all of them, all the signs. Turns out, my vixen and I may be a lot more alike than we dare to admit. The difference is, I’m better at hiding them than she is.
NOAH
During dinner, Veronica received two texts, and since she was seated beside me, I caught her peering down at her screen.
There was no preview of the messages, and both came from different unsaved numbers.
She didn’t open them either; she simply shut her screen and slipped her phone back into her skirt pocket.
Her throat worked, then she rubbed her palms down the length of her thighs before plastering a smile on her face and laughing along with everyone else. She was trying to act as if she had been paying attention to the conversation, but clearly something had rattled her.
Everyone is hanging around chatting and drinking.
Tomorrow, we only have a late morning training session, so we’re taking advantage of not having to wake up too early.
The kids are off playing with their toys in the living room, not being a bother at all.
I have to admit, Greyson and Silas are pretty lucky to have such calm children, who are easily occupied, and no change of environment seems to bother them.
I wander into the kitchen and pour myself a heavy glass of scotch, my drink of choice after my weekly visits. I try not to touch the heavy stuff too much, but on days like this, it’s much needed.
“Hey, you.” Cecilia sidles up to my side with a nervous smile.
“What can I do for you, little mama?” I wink.
Her cheeks take on a soft pink tint. “Are you mad at me for the whole Ronnie thing? I know I should have said something beforehand, but I couldn’t tell her, or else she would have refused.
And if I told you guys, you would have never been able to keep your mouths shut. Well, I know Gabe wouldn’t have.”
“You’re right about that.” I chuckle from the rim of my glass before taking a sip. “And no, I’m not mad at you. I actually owe you a big thank you. So, whatever you want—new car, expensive purse, diamond earrings—just let me know, it’s yours.”
“What do you think I married the big guy for?” she jokes.
“I heard that, Minnie!” Silas calls out from a few feet away, where he talks with Clay.