20. Noah
noah
. . .
P eyton’s leg is suspended in the air, putting her toes within my line of sight. I’m tempted to touch them, but knowing how ticklish she is, I think my fun attempt at making her laugh would likely cause more harm and the last thing I want is to see her in any sort of pain because of me.
And yet, as I stand here looking at her, with her disheveled hair and mangled body, all I can think about is how beautiful she is, and how she asked for me. Of course, now I’m wondering if she called me in here to tell me to take a flying leap because, for all I know, her and Zimmerman could be a couple. And if that’s the case, I’ll back away.
“Are you going to come sit down or stand at the foot of my bed?”
I shrug and run my hand through my hair. As soon as football season is over, I’ll cut it but likely grow a beard. The grooming side of personal hygiene seems to take a backseat during both the regular and off-season. It’s a cross between superstition and laziness.
My body groans as I sit in the plastic chair. One would think with the amount the hospital charges, especially in the intensive care unit, they’d put some better chairs in here for family. But no, they seem hell-bent on making us feel uncomfortable, maybe so we don’t outstay the visiting hours, not that it’s worked for us.
“Did you win?” she asks.
I smile and nod. It’s been far too long since we’ve discussed football. “We did, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
She looks at me oddly.
“After last week’s loss, we got the news about the accident. I came right here with my dad, Little B and Grandma.”
“Did you miss practice or get fined?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “But I did screw up in practice. Peyton, you should’ve seen me. I was tripping over my own feet. Throwing the ball on routes that didn’t exist. Coach was livid. He kicked me off the field, told me I disgusted him.”
“Noah,” she draws my name out.
“It’s okay. He told me if we won, he’d excuse me from practice this week.”
“Did you win?” she asks excitedly.
“We did. Beat ‘em by twenty, although I’m probably in trouble because I ditched out on the press conference.”
“Why would you do that?”
I shrug. “So I could see you.”
Peyton leans back, resting her head on her pillow. Our eyes never leave each other. I find myself rising out of my seat about ready to kiss her.
“Tell me what I’ve missed. How did Chicago do this week?”
My ass hits the chair with a clunk. “Right. Chicago. Zimmerman. Um…” I scratch the back of my head with one hand and pull my phone out with the other, avoiding eye contact with her. I’ve had it on ‘do not disturb’ since before my game, and by the sheer amount of notifications from Dessie, I’m glad that I have. I grow frustrated with my phone and her name each time a new text comes in. It’s like she knows I’m on my phone and has decided to light it up with messages. “Come on, Dessie,” I mumble under my breath, hoping Peyton doesn’t hear me.
“She’s probably upset you’re here.”
“Among other things,” I say, waiting for the sports app to load. Right now I wish I had my iPad so we could look at the highlights and scores on there instead of my phone. Something tells me Dessie isn’t going to stop texting until I speak with her. I hold the phone sideways and press play on the blooper reel from this past weekend. Hearing Peyton laugh has to be hands down the best sound in the world right now. Even thinking for a minute, I’d never hear it again has my throat seizing up.
Once the clip is done, I find the broadcast from ESPN and play it for her. The first thing they talk about is Zimmerman. I don’t really know the guy, but I hate him right now, and I have no right to other than he was the one behind the wheel when Peyton was hurt. Throughout the time she’s watching, Dessie continues to light up my phone.
“Maybe you should call her.”
I lock my screen and slip it back into my pocket. “Tell me about Zimmerman,” I say, avoiding Peyton’s statement. “How long have you been dating.”
“Kyle and I aren’t dating, at least I don’t think we are.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t remember much from that day, but from what my mom says, I met Kyle at the game. He told the police he asked me out to dinner, and I guess I said yes.”
“Do you like him?”
Peyton laughs. “I don’t know. Why the interrogation?”
“No reason.” I shake my head because it’s not exactly true. I have a ton of reasons, but I don’t know if the timing is right. Is it? It should be, but I don’t want Peyton to think my feelings are only because she’s had a near-death experience, and telling her now makes it seem that way.
My mind is a damn mess. Do this. Do that. Tell her. Don’t tell her. Yet, I don’t know which way to go. I want nothing more than to tell her that I’m in love with her and ask her for a chance, but what if it’s not what she wants? Maybe Zimmerman is more her speed. Maybe Peyton looks at me like a brother, and that kiss… it could’ve freaked her out.
“You look like you’re a million miles away, Noah.”
“I am, I think. I don’t know. I just…”
“You just what?”
I finally look at Peyton, sweet and caring, beautiful and perfect, and kissable. The kiss I gave her in the middle of the night meant everything to me. It’s how I want to spend the rest of my days, kissing her, making her feel loved, showing her she means everything to me.
“You kissed me earlier,” she blurts out, breaking my reverie.
“You remember?”
She nods and pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth as if she’s meaning to torment me.
“Good. I’m glad. I meant that kiss, Peyton.” I rise up and lean toward her, gripping the bed rail strongly to hold me up. I’m afraid to touch her. Scared I’ll hurt her.
Peyton places her hand in front of me, halting my slow progress toward her mouth. “I have a question, well it’s more of a statement.”
“Anything,” I say, without moving.
“I don’t want to be the side chick, someone you come and see when you’re not playing or fly to tropical destinations. If you’re going to kiss me, it’s because you want me, and only me.”
“Dessie and I broke up, Peyton, because I’m in love with you. Now before you say anything, hear me out. I have felt this way… well for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, it took almost losing you for me to open my eyes. I realized I’m with Dessie for all the wrong reasons and the feelings I have for her, pale in comparison to what I feel for you. We have a ton of hurdles if we want to give us a chance. That is, if you want to try this.”
Her ear-to-ear grin is all I need. I press my lips to hers. It’s a chaste kiss at first until she opens her mouth and I slip my tongue inside. I keep it brief though, out of fear her parents may walk by. I need to do the right thing and talk to Katelyn and Harrison, ask for their permission to be with her. The last thing I want is to be the cause of a family rift, but I’m in love with their daughter and have been for a long time. I hope they can accept that and give us their blessing.
The clearing of a throat has me looking over my shoulder. My blood runs cold when I see Dessie standing in Peyton’s doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. I stay standing next to Peyton.
“Hi, Peyton,” Dessie says instead of answering me. “I wasn’t aware that you were awake.” She cocks her eyebrow at me.
“Hey, Des?—”
“Peyton’s recovery is none of your business, Dessie. Again, what are you doing here?” I ask pointedly.
“We need to talk, Noah.”
I shake my head. “We don’t have anything to say to each other. I made myself pretty clear on where I stand.” My hand dangles near Peyton’s, desperate to feel connected to her. She locks her finger with mine as if she knew this is what I needed.
“But we do. If you would answer your phone, you’d know that we have something very important to discuss.”
I honestly thought if I avoided her, she’d go away. I was wrong. I sigh heavily and look at Peyton. She’s smiling, despite the awkwardness in the room.
“Fine, you don’t want to come with me, I’ll say what I have to say. I’m pregnant, Noah. Almost two months along.”
With my eyes still focused on Peyton, I watch as the color drains from her face and the blood all but leaves my body. Her finger slips away despite my attempt to hold on, and her eyes break hold with mine.
“What’d you say?” I sound like a strangled man when I ask her to repeat herself.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
“Noah?” Peyton’s voice is merely a pained whisper.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her, kissing her on her forehead. I motion for Dessie to leave the room, glancing quickly at her, with her Cheshire Cat-like smile. I guide her down the hall, past the rest of my family, who conveniently stops talking as we pass, and through the doors. I keep pushing her toward the stairwell and as soon as we’re behind the solid door, I scream out, “What the hell are you playing at?”
“What are you talking about?” The innocent act isn’t going to get her very far with me.
“Why would you barge into Peyton’s room and announce something like this? Are you trying to hurt her? She’s done nothing to you.”
“Except steal you away.”
I shake my head. “She hasn’t stolen me, Dessie. I’m in love with her and I know it hurts you. Believe me, if I could go back to the day we met, I would’ve never pursued anything because it’s not fair to you or her.”
“So what now? I go home and play the single mother while you woo some college student? Is she going to play step-mommy to our child? Do I have to hammer out a visitation schedule around her school work?”
“Dessie…” I push the palms of my hands into my eyes. “You’re messing with lives here. You can’t do shit like this.”
“Wait a minute, Noah. You think I’m messing with lives? I’m pregnant. With your child, no less. I have to tell my boss who might blacklist me for the next round of shoots.” Dessie leans against the wall. “Look, I know we broke up, but this changes everything, I can’t do this without you. I need your help. And you’re right, I have a slight issue with drugs, but I need to be clean for this baby and I can’t do it alone.”
“Dessie...”
“Noah, I’m sorry for everything. For the way I acted, for accusing you of cheating on me. I haven’t slept since we broke up. I’ve missed shoots. I’ve shown up late with bags under my eyes. I even went to your game so we could talk, and waited for you outside the locker room, only you never came out. Julius told me you already left. I had to track you down here. Do you know how hard this is for me? I know you don’t love me, not like you love Peyton.”
“I can’t imagine it’s been easy, but?—”
Dessie steps closer to me. “Before you brush me off, give us a chance. We’re going to have a family, Noah.” She takes my hand and places it on her stomach. I feel nothing. “When this baby was created, you loved me, and I know you already love this baby growing inside of me.”
Dessie doesn’t give me a chance to respond, to tell her exactly why we broke up, before she steps back into the hallway. I chase after her, afraid of what she might say to Peyton, but when I get back to her room, she’s lying on her left side, facing away from the door. Her broken arm rests in front of her face, elevated slightly on a pillow. She doesn’t seem to flinch when I clear my throat. I go to her and press my lips to her ear. “I’m so sorry, Peyton.”
Those are the last words I say to her before leaving. I need time to think, to figure out what I have to do. Honestly, I’m not worried about whether Dessie is embarrassed. I know I should be, but Peyton’s happiness means more to me.