Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
Savannah
With My Girl
I’m nervous waiting for Noah with the other WAGs.
It doesn’t help that there are at least six other women wearing Callahan jerseys also waiting for him, including Tish, who was telling everyone in the bathroom earlier that she’s had him before, and they still ‘see each other’ on occasion.
Did I hide in the stall longer than was necessary while waiting for them all to leave?
Yes, I did. But I walked out of there with my head held high, trying not to let it get to me, because even if I don’t always know where we stand on the relationship front, I do know that Noah is one of the good ones, and he wouldn’t do that to me. To anyone.
Honestly, even as a friend, I would want to be here to celebrate him. Not only did the team win, by a lot, but Noah scored a hat trick – three goals in one game – and the last one was while injured.
He scans the crowd once he’s out, which I’m used to.
But every other time I’ve done this, his eyes have landed on Izzie, and he comes over to take her in his arms before acknowledging me.
This time, I’m the only one. Well, along with the other WAGs and puck bunnies, but there’s no sister to make him come my way.
My heart stops and I can’t breathe when Noah finally spots me, and I’m nervous for a second, before a huge grin spreads on his face, and he rushes past Owen and Mike to get to me faster, where he immediately lifts me up in his arms and spins me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, worried about his ribs, and whatever else they hit during the game.
“I’m awesome,” he assures me. I’m still worried, but I let it go.
“Congrats on the hat trick. Pretty impressive.”
I’m blushing and can’t stop my grin, because he’s keeping way too much eye contact for me to pretend this is nothing.
“It’s because of you,” he shares. “Pretty sure Coach wanted to bench me rather than risk it, since we were already winning, but I saw your face and couldn’t stand you looking so worried about me.”
“It was a bad hit,” I defend myself.
“Colt’s was worse.”
I know what he’s getting at, that it had nothing to do with the hit, and everything to do with how I feel about him, but I can’t go there.
“Thank you for convincing me to come. It was fun, and I got a much better understanding of what it feels like to be with someone on the team. Pages of notes. That I’ll write when I get home, because Lacey welcomed me into her cult with open arms. And the whole stick pointed at me after the goal thing…
I get it now. You didn’t even mean it and my heart fluttered. ”
I put on a smile because I don’t want him to see, but as awesome as that moment was, it also hurt, because it wasn’t real, and I’m starting to seriously wonder if I can keep doing this without being his.
I said I’d take the lies over nothing, but my chest aches in a way I’m sure Noah would hate himself for if I was brave enough to tell him.
“I meant it,” he argues. “Do you have plans tonight?”
Of course I don’t. I make myself available almost every night, but especially after games, on the off chance he reaches out and wants to see me.
“Nothing concrete,” I say instead of admitting that.
“Come celebrate at Slapshots with me.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I tell him, which isn’t entirely true location-wise, but I do want to be wherever he is, and the football team has an away game, so no one from that crowd will be there tonight.
Though maybe it’s time I trust Noah and the fact he wouldn’t string me along for a chance to meet my brothers.
But it feels like there’s a shift happening, which might be my imagination, me getting my hopes up, but I don’t want to wonder if he changed his mind because of me, or because of my brothers.
Noah takes my hand to bring me to his truck, then again when he leads me into the hockey bar, holding me close.
“I appreciate it, but I don’t need to experience what it’s like to celebrate a win as a WAG.
I admire your dedication to hockey accuracy, but I’ve seen how Darren is with Lacey, and observing is just as good.
” I omit the years I spent watching my brothers and their teammates.
Sports may vary, but celebrating a win at the bar remains pretty similar.
I also really don’t want to know what it will feel like when everyone finds out I’ve only been sleeping with the star of the hockey team, not dating him.
He’s brought me places before, made out with me a bit during parties at the house, but that’s all hookup behaviors.
The way he’s holding my hand now and smiling at me…
this feels intimate. And terrifying, because I really don’t want him to stop.
“This has nothing to do with your book.” Noah’s voice is low, and his eyes go from mine to my mouth, where he lingers, biting his bottom lip and releasing a groan, which I’m pretty sure is unintentional.
“What does it have to do with?” I swallow, breathless, with my heart pounding against my chest, completely giving me away, but he’s close enough that I can see his breathing is just as affected.
Instead of answering, he kisses me, not in a hungry, let’s go to the bathroom for a quickie way. He kisses me like I’m his. And I kiss him back like it’s true, because I am.
The rest of the team trickles in with their girlfriends – or girls they picked up along the way – and every few minutes, more come over to congratulate the guys, especially Noah, their hands lingering, invitations anything but subtle…
yet he keeps his eyes on me. And when one of them explicitly tell him that she wants to take him home and vividly details what she’ll do to him like some Kama sutra goddess, he chokes out a laugh, then his eyes burn into me as he says, “I appreciate the offer, but I really just want to go home and celebrate with my girl.”
Noah looks as nervous as I suddenly feel, because it seems like this is really happening, and my heart will shatter if he’s just using me to avoid that girl and get out of here early, but he walks over and slowly brings his lips to mine again, giving me every chance to stop him, but I don’t.
“What do you say, Sav?” he asks in a whisper, resting his forehead against mine.
“About which part?” It comes out breathy, but I can’t help that I can’t breathe.
“All of it,” he shares, looking into my eyes, where I’m guessing he sees my apprehension. “You always look like you’re not sure if I’ll be happy to see you, or if I think of you as an inconvenience,” he points out, running his thumb along my chin, as if he wants to coax it into a smile.
“I’m sorry. I know it gets old and I should—”
“I always want to see you, Peaches.” He stops me. “You make me so fucking happy. And it doesn’t get old for me. I’ll spend every fucking day for the rest of my life reminding you how awesome you are. But it breaks my heart that you don’t see it.”
Before I can respond, he kisses me again, like he’s trying to show me what he thinks of me, and God, do I want to believe him.
“Want to try this thing out for real?” he asks, pulling away and leaving me breathless.
I want to say yes, more than anything, but I’m not the one who said we couldn’t do this.
“You don’t do relationships,” I remind him.
“I didn’t think I could,” he agrees. “But I don’t want to just be your friend, either. I want to see you in my jersey at the games. I want to wake up next to you. To not stop myself from kissing you whenever I see you in public.”
“You mean that?”
“It fucking terrifies me how much I mean it.” He kisses me. “Can I take you home?”
“Yes please.”