Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Savannah
All Yours
I thought a week with Noah before the semester starts would be the perfect opportunity to figure out what we are, but he has a hockey tournament that requires a bunch of extra training in addition to away games, and twice he falls asleep while trying to convince me to ditch my readings so we can ‘cuddle’, which I’m no longer convinced is a euphemism.
That isn’t to say we haven’t seen each other, but we don’t really talk.
I go to the hockey house, we make out, he gives me multiple orgasms, has a few of his own, then he holds me in his arms under the covers and I sleep like a baby – the expression, not how infants actually sleep.
Half the time, he leaves for morning skate before I’m awake, then I leave to write at Words and Lattes before they come back, though I usually make some kind of breakfast treat before I go.
Noah is constantly telling me not to, but his roommates not only thank me profusely, they’ve put in requests.
It's…confusing. Some days I walk home feeling ashamed, like a booty call he’s stringing along, especially when I come over late and we barely even speak before we’re naked.
But other days, when he holds me and nuzzles close, reaching for me in the night, and has a latte waiting for me on the kitchen counter when I get down…
God, those days I feel like he might even love me back.
But I don’t tell him. I never slip.
Noah
Busy tonight?
Me
Booty call?
Noah
Always.
My phone rings with a FaceTime call from Noah, so I move away from the study tables and hide between the library shelves to answer.
“We’re having a party,” he explains. “Apparently, it’s Colt’s birthday? Just a chill evening with the roommates, but it would mean a lot if you were there.”
“To him? Or to you?” I ask skeptically. The last thing I want to do is intrude and be a sixth wheel.
I’m surprised when it’s Colt who yells out, “Both of us!”
“But mostly me,” Noah assures me with a wink. “Colt thinks it’s depressing without ‘chicks’ and you’re his favorite.”
I raise an eyebrow, because the only thing Colt likes about me is my baking, but I can tell from Noah’s look that he wouldn’t make it up.
“Those were his words, not mine.”
“Which I won’t be repeating, message received.” Colt rolls his eyes, and I can only picture the glare Noah must have given him for saying it. We might not have labels, but boy, can he get possessive. In looks, at least.
“The drinking already started?” I call them on it.
“We’re just heading home from Slapshots. Don’t worry, Mike’s driving and he’s still sober.”
“Hey Sav!” He calls from what I assume is the front seat.
“Want us to pick you up?” Noah offers, assessing my background. “You’re at the library?”
“I have to drop something off at my dorm, but I’ll be over soon.”
“He misses you!” I hear Owen, who sounds quite tipsy.
I roll my eyes, because I spent most of yesterday with Noah, but he isn’t arguing.
“See you soon, Sav!” The guys yell before we’re disconnected.
I’m packing up my stuff to head home when I get another text.
Noah
You shouldn’t walk over in the dark.
Bring your car. Don’t worry about drinking.
My bed is yours.
Also mine. We can share.
Me
OK
But not you.
I don’t want to share you.
You’re all mine.
I haven’t wanted anyone else pretty much since the day I met him, but I don’t have the protection of being drunk, so I erase the ‘All yours’ I was typing, and just hope he knows.
By the time I get to the house, half of Greek row is in the living room. Noah and David are in the kitchen, staring at the oven.
“What are you doing?” I ask as Noah immediately takes me in his arms and kisses me like we’re the only ones there, even though his ‘chill night with the roommates’ has turned into the hottest party around campus.
Probably the only one, since it’s Monday night.
David nods to acknowledge me, then takes a swig from his tequila bottle.
Noah turns me so we’re facing the oven again, then kisses my neck as he explains, “We’re baking Colt a cake.”
“Didn’t you set a timer?”
“We were worried we wouldn’t hear it.”
Instead of suggesting a phone timer, I spend the next ten minutes staring at the oven while Noah holds me close and David gives me his mother’s churros recipe, which I won’t remember without being able to write it down, but he promises we can make them together some time.
Nobody wants to wait once the cake is out, even when I explain that the icing will melt if it’s too hot, so I put the icing in the microwave for twenty seconds, add a bunch of cinnamon, and turn it into a kind of coulis.
It’s not the prettiest cake I’ve ever decorated, but Colt nearly cries when they carry it out to him, with the entire party singing Happy Birthday, and it’s not like the drunk coeds will care.
“Thank you guys for this. It means…best birthday ever,” Colt says, stuffing his face, which I’m pretty sure is to avoid showing too much emotion.
“It’s a great turnout, Beckford.” Owen pats him on the shoulder.
“Everyone loves Colt.” The girl who says it is looking at him and biting her bottom lip, not in the nervous way I often do, but as an invitation.
“They don’t, though,” he tells me with a sigh on his way to put his plate in the sink, so low that I’m not sure if I imagined it.
“Of course, they do. You’re the life of—” I start, but it’s clearly the wrong thing because his face drops. Like maybe he expected more from me. “Happy birthday, Colt,” I say instead, taking him in for a hug. “You make a shy girl feel like she belongs.”
“You do. Always,” he whispers back before leading the lip girl to his bedroom.
I’m grateful when Noah whisks me upstairs just as the football team arrives, though for once, I was actually enjoying myself at a party.
I didn’t feel like I had to hide in an empty room or make myself small.
Which probably had a lot to do with the fact that Noah either had his arm around me, was holding my hand, or was looking at me from across the room, just waiting for an opportunity to get back to me.
It didn’t hurt that almost every time I was left alone, long before anyone could say something to make me feel out of place, one of the guys – mostly his roommates, but also Darren, Donovan, and…
the other one who never wears a shirt – would come up to me and ask about Izzie or how I spent my holidays, or try to find out what Noah is like when he’s not wearing his captain hat.
I said it to Colt, because he does, but really, all the hockey boys have been making me feel welcome.
So much that for a split second, as Noah is leading me up to his bedroom, I make eye contact with Parker and want to bring Noah back down.
To introduce him to this extension of my brothers.
So Parker can let them know I’m okay – taken care of – and I don’t have to keep hiding things from Noah.
But I’m a chicken. I already spend enough time wondering why Noah wants to spend time with me, I don’t need to add my brothers to the mix. And there’s no way I could convincingly say we’re just friends without the world seeing I’m in love with him.
So I smile at Parker, then spend the night with Noah, because even if I can’t tell him how I feel, I can show him, and whether he means to or not, I swear he shows it back.