7. Noah
7
NOAH
O ne day after practice, I notice Olivia struggling with loading up her camera equipment. It’s bulky and looks heavy, not something she should be hauling around on her own. I jog over, my skates still in hand.
"Need a hand?" I ask, grinning as I approach.
She glances up, looking relieved. "You read my mind. These things are a nightmare to lug around."
"Let me get that for you," I say, grabbing the heaviest bag and placing it in her backseat.
"Thanks, Noah. You're the best," she says, smiling. Those dimples of hers could light up a room.
"Don't say that too often, you'll give me a big head. I'm just trying to keep the star journalist happy," I tease as I shut her rear door.
She laughs, the sound light and genuine. "Flattery will get you everywhere Kane."
Not wanting to leave Olivia and go back to my empty ass apartment, I feel compelled to ask her to stick around.
"Hey, you up for a walk?" I ask, nodding toward the path that winds around the lake. "It's a nice night, and the lake is pretty peaceful when you're not running around it out of breath."
Olivia laughs, and glances at her car, then back at me, smiling. "Sure, why not? I've been cooped up all day."
We start down the path, the evening air crisp and invigorating. The lake reflects the fading light, casting a serene glow over the water. I fall into step beside her, our pace easy and unhurried.
"So," I begin, kicking at a pebble on the path, "what kind of music are you into?"
She laughs softly. "You first. I bet it's something rugged and manly."
I raise an eyebrow. "Rugged and manly? You mean like... Taylor Swift?"
She giggles, shaking her head. "A Swiftie? Really?"
"Nah," I say, grinning. "Though I don't mind some of her stuff. I'm more into classic rock. You know, Springsteen, The Rolling Stones."
"Nice," she nods appreciatively. "I'm a bit of a music chameleon. One day it's indie rock, the next it's jazz."
"Jazz?" I look at her with mock surprise. "Didn't peg you for a jazz fan."
"Why not?" she challenges playfully. "It's got soul, depth... like me."
I chuckle at that. "Fair enough. What about movies? Got any favorites?"
She tilts her head thoughtfully. "Depends on my mood. 'Dirty Dancing' if I'm feeling nostalgic, 'Shooter' when I want action."
"Good choices," I say approvingly. "Let me guess, the reason you like Shooter is because of Mark Wahlberg, am I right?"
She snorts, and it's the cutest shit I've ever heard. "Maybe, I won't confirm or deny that," she says with a smile.
"That man has set the bar way too fucking high since his Marky Mark days, and Calvin Klein ads."
She laughs and it's like music to my ears. "I don't know if I should be concerned or impressed that you know so much about Mark Wahlberg."
"I'm fully convinced that if my mom had a free pass with Wahlberg, she would take it. And Dad would probably cheer her on." I say with a laugh. "But i'm more of an 'Indiana Jones' guy myself."
"Oh! Harrison Ford is timeless," she agrees enthusiastically.
We walk in comfortable silence for a bit, our footsteps crunching on the gravel path.
As we round the bend near a small dock, Olivia pauses to look out over the water.
"This place is beautiful," she says softly.
"It is," I agree, though I'm not looking at the lake anymore.
She catches me staring and raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing," I say quickly, looking away with a sheepish grin.
We fall back into step together as dusk settles around us.
"You know," Olivia starts after a while, "I've been so focused on my career that I've forgotten how nice it is to just... be in the moment."
I nod thoughtfully. "Yeah, life can get pretty busy sometimes. It's good to take a breather."
As we continue our walk along the lake, I notice the sky darkening. Before I can comment on it, fat raindrops start to fall, quickly turning into a downpour.
"Ah, shit," I mutter, glancing around for shelter.
Olivia laughs, a sound that somehow cuts through the patter of rain. "Guess we should've looked at the forecast."
"Quick, over there!" I point to a nearby awning attached to an old boathouse.
We sprint for cover, making it just in time to avoid getting completely drenched. The space under the awning is tight, forcing us close together. I can feel the warmth of her body next to mine, and my heart beats faster.
"Nice save," she says, her breath coming in short bursts from our run. Her hair is damp and clinging to her forehead.
"Yeah, I'm known for my quick reflexes," I reply with a grin.
She chuckles, shaking her head slightly as she brushes a strand of hair out of her face. A raindrop trails down her cheek, and I fight the urge to reach out and wipe it away.
"Looks like we're stuck here for a bit," she says, glancing out at the sheets of rain pouring down.
"Could be worse," I say, leaning against the wall and trying to act nonchalant despite the electricity crackling between us. "You could be stuck out here with the ever social Ethan."
Olivia looks up at me with those bright green eyes that seem to see right through me. "You always this smooth?"
I laugh softly. "Only when it counts."
She bites her lower lip, a move that makes my pulse spike. "So tell me, Noah Kane... what's your story? Off the ice, I mean."
I shrug, trying to keep it casual. "Grew up in a small town with Liam. Always had to work twice as hard to keep up with him."
Her eyes soften a bit. "Sounds tough."
"It had its moments," I admit. "But it made me who I am today."
"And who are you today?" she asks quietly.
I look at her for a long moment before answering. "A guy who's still figuring it out."
She nods slowly, as if understanding more than I'm saying. The rain continues to hammer down around us, but all I can focus on is how close we are and how much I want to close the gap.
"You know," Olivia says suddenly, breaking the silence. "I think you're doing pretty well so far."
Her words catch me off guard, and for a moment all I can do is stare at her. The rain isn't letting up anytime soon; we're trapped in this little bubble together.
I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. "You really think so?"
She smiles softly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah... I do."
The rain finally begins to let up, the steady downpour turning into a light drizzle. I glance at Olivia, noticing how she's shivering slightly despite her best efforts to hide it. Without thinking, I slip off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders.
"Here," I say. "Can't have you catching a cold."
She looks up at me, surprised but grateful. "Thanks, Noah."
"Anytime," I reply, leaning back against the wall of the boathouse. She pulls the jacket tighter around herself, and I can't help but notice how she seems to snuggle into its warmth.
I can't help but feel like this is oddly intimate. I feel like a fucking high schooler giving his girlfriend his letterman jacket. Except I never had one of those, I chose money instead, and pretty sure I ended up buying my mom a present for her birthday with it.
As the rain clears up completely, we start walking back towards her car. The ground is wet and slippery, but we take our time, neither of us in a hurry to end this moment.
When we reach her car, she turns to face me, holding out my jacket with a reluctant smile. "I should probably give this back."
"Keep it," I say quickly.
Her smile widens just a fraction. "Alright then."
I take a step back, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out and pulling her close again. "Drive safe."
"You too," she replies softly.
As she gets into her car and drives away, I'm left standing there in the fading light, feeling an odd sense of emptiness where moments ago there was warmth and connection.
The reluctant goodbye hangs heavy in the air as I turn and head back towards my own car, my thoughts of her swirling in my mind like leaves caught in a gust of wind.
Driving home, the rhythmic thrum of the engine barely distracts me from the turmoil in my head. Olivia’s smile keeps flashing through my mind, her laugh ringing in my ears. I grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening as I wrestle with the conflicting emotions.
Liam’s interested in her. I know that. Hell, anyone with eyes could see it. And Liam's my best friend. But damn it if Olivia doesn’t make it hard to think straight.
I turn on the radio, hoping some music will drown out my thoughts. Classic rock blares through the speakers—Springsteen’s “Born to Run.” Usually, this song would get me pumped, but tonight it only adds to the noise in my head.
“You gotta step back,” I mutter to myself, glancing at my reflection in the rearview mirror. “She’s off-limits.”
But every time I resolve to step back, her smile comes back into focus. It’s like a magnetic force pulling me in, no matter how much I try to resist.