Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Noah
Might Be a Jersey Chaser
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Darren asks as I’m lacing my skates. There’s a possibility I got lost in my thoughts and was staring off into space.
“Nothing.” It sounds like a bark, and I feel like a dick.
“Your mom and Izzie okay?”
“They’re good. Izzie’s in the stands.”
“Again?” A hint of confusion crosses his face.
“A friend is with her.”
“You don’t have friends.”
“Fuck you.”
“I mean that most of your friends – as in all the ones I’ve met – are currently in this room, or dating me and didn’t mention anything, so I’m not sure who is out there.”
“Savannah.”
“Is she—”
“We’re friends.” I stop him, then add, “I think.”
“Sounds like things are going good.” He’s being sarcastic, and I’d punch him if he weren’t my oldest and closest friend.
“This the girl you tried to hook up with the other day? Before Colt cockblocked you?” Mike asks, because none of these assholes can keep their mouths shut.
“When has Noah ever brought a girl home?” Colt defends himself.
“How did you meet her?” Darren presses.
“The arena.”
“Do I know her?” Tanner asks.
“She’s not a puck bunny,” I argue, intending for it to come out teasing, because he usually goes for the low hanging fruit, but even I can hear I’m snapping at him.
“I didn’t say she was,” he assures me.
“Might be a jersey chaser, though,” Colt teases, bracing himself for whatever I’m about to throw at him in retaliation.
“Fuck you,” I growl, opting for my glove.
“Sorry, bad joke.”
“What am I missing?” Darren looks between us.
“She’s not like that,” I say before Colt can explain about her knowledge of the house we now live in. “We’re not like…she watches Izzie sometimes so she can come to the games.”
“What does Savannah get out of it?” Darren asks.
Me, I want to say, but she doesn’t, not for real. She gets shreds of me.
“I’m helping her with a research project.”
“Like a guinea pig for experiments?” Tanner asks, looking uncomfortable.
“No, like sharing knowledge.”
“On what?” Darren is skeptical. I should have said math. I get good grades, but I sometimes struggle with electives.
I don’t want to tell them, not because they’ll laugh, but because they all have the same expertise as me, and judging by the way Colt was staring at her at the house, the second she realizes I’m no good for her and she deserves better, any one of my teammates would be happy to help her.
Not that I’d let Colt, Donovan, or Tanner get close, but Owen, Mike, David…
most of my roommates would be great for her.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But you like her.”
“We’re friends.”
“Judging by the way you growled at Beckford, I’d call bullshit.”
“I don’t have time for more than that.”
They can call bullshit all they want, but they know how busy we are, without adding my mom and Izzie. Half of them have used the same excuse to either break up with someone, or to keep things casual, but Sav is not casual.
“Friends with benefits, then?”
Colt already has his hands up as he takes a step back, like he poked the bear and knew I was going to growl again, like a fucking beast, no matter how badly I try not to.
“She’s not the casual type,” I say like it doesn’t affect me in the least.
Owen gives me a sad look, and I want to ask what he’s looking at, but I’m pretty sure he’s seeing right through me, and knows what I do, that if she’s still hanging around and she’s not into casual, it’s either because she has no interest in me and only wants to hang out with Izzie and learn about hockey, or she thinks she can change me.
I usually feel bad for the delusional chicks who want to save wounded assholes, but I think I’m the biggest asshole, because I’ve given Savannah so many reasons to think she’s special, that unicorn who can change me, only to completely let her down.
But she is special. And I want to change for her.
But then Coach schedules a meeting, or Mom takes an extra shift, Tatum runs a fever, and I let Savannah down.
The more balls you have in the air, the more likely it is you’ll drop one.
And if you keep pushing it, trying to balance them all, it’s not one ball that falls, it’s all of them.
And as much as I absolutely can’t hurt Savannah like that, I can’t be another person letting Izzie down either.
She’s my priority. Then hockey, for both my sanity and my future.
I need the scholarship to finish school and get a good job with benefits, and there’s the tiniest pipe dream of someday making it into the NHL so Mom doesn’t have to take last minute overnight shifts, she can get a new car that isn’t always breaking down, and I can breathe without the pressure of the world on my shoulders.
Savannah deserves to be someone’s top priority, not just another ball they can’t juggle anymore.
“On the ice,” Coach ushers us.
I’m shaking as I skate out, not that I think anyone can tell under all the pads, but when your insides are a mess, you’re convinced the outsides match, right?
I skate to the plexiglass in front of my seats and look up.
Izzie has her head down, so she doesn’t see me at first, but Savannah does.
Even though I’ve been an asshole lately, and I don’t deserve it, she smiles at me, cautious but warm.
I feel it right inside my chest. Like Mom’s hugs when I was little and thought they could keep all the bad stuff from reaching us.
After a subtle nudge, Izzie finally looks up, her smile bright as she jumps up and down, clearly screaming. I smile at her, at both of them, and wish I knew how to be what they both need.