15. Noah
15
NOAH
" L iam, I'm wide open!" I shout. For what seems like the twelfth time today.
Dude is way off his fucking game. Every pass, every shot, it’s like he’s not even here. After a drill where he misses yet another easy pass, I skate over to him, catching his eye.
"What's your deal?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light.
"Nothing," he snaps back, not even looking at me.
"Could've fooled me," I mutter, but he’s already skating away.
As the shit show of a practice wraps up, I watch him as he avoids eye contact with Olivia. She’s standing by the boards, her notebook clutched like a lifeline. She looks just as uncomfortable as Liam. Something definitely happened. And I'm not sure how I feel about that.
I catch up with Liam in the parking lot, his stride purposeful as he heads toward his car. "Hey, wait up!" I call out, jogging to close the distance. He glances over his shoulder, barely slowing down.
"What the hell is going on Liam?" I ask, falling into step beside him. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
Liam's jaw tightens. "I said I'm fine, Noah."
"Bullshit," I retort. "You were off the whole practice. Something's eating at you."
He stops abruptly, turning to face me. His eyes are stormy, the usual calm intensity replaced by frustration. "It's none of your fucking business," he snaps.
I hold up my hands in mock surrender. "Woah, alright. But if this affects your game?—"
"It won't, I'm the captain," he interrupts, his voice sharp. "Just drop it."
"Fine," I say, not pushing further but giving him a pointed look. "But you know where to find me if you change your mind."
He gives a curt nod and resumes his march to the car. I watch him go, feeling a mix of worry and irritation. This isn't like him. Liam usually has it all together, especially when it comes to hockey.
As he reaches his car, he fumbles with the keys for a moment before getting in and slamming the door shut. The engine roars to life, and he speeds out of the lot without a backward glance.
I stand there for a moment longer, trying to piece together what could be bothering him so much. The tension between him and Olivia? Something else? Either way, it's clear he's not ready to talk about it.
With a sigh, I turn back towards the rink. There's no use in forcing it. Liam will come around when he's ready. He always does.
But as I walk back inside, I can't shake the feeling that this time might be different. I guess time will tell when the puck drops tomorrow.
We barely, and I mean just barley skimmed the win over the Raptors. Someone had to have had some kind of magic horseshoe up their ass to compensate for our less than stellar performance tonight, especially Liam's.
I pack up my gear and set out to find Olivia. She's the only person who can make me feel better about the embarrassment that was tonight. I can't help but laugh as I think of what kind of positive accolades to describe the game that Olivia must be trying to come up with right now for her article.
If I were the reporter, and thank God I'm not, my headlines for tonight would be something like, "The Wolves played like some mutts with rabies from the animal shelter tonight, not the well-trained pack that they are" or "Breaking news: Someone pissed in Captain Liam Makars cornflakes this morning."
The press area is almost empty when I find her. Olivia’s hunched over her laptop, looking like she’s just had a fight with it and lost. Her hair’s in a messy bun, and there’s a look in her eyes that makes my chest tighten.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the doorway. “You look like you’re plotting your laptop’s demise.”
She looks up, startled. “Noah, hey. Just... tough night.”
“Tell me about it.” I drop into the chair next to her, the adrenaline from the game still thrumming in my veins. “Barely scraped by tonight. My heart can’t take many more games like that.”
Olivia tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, it was bogus.”
“Bogus? That’s one way to put it,” I chuckle. “I thought I’d have to scrape Liam off the ice at one point. Guy was playing like he had a death wish.”
Her expression darkens at the mention of Liam, and I file that away for later.
“You alright?” I ask softly.
She sighs, closing her laptop with a click. “Just... everything. The game, my article... personal stuff.” She waves a hand vaguely.
“Want to talk about it?” I lean forward, elbows on my knees.
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “Not really.”
"And that's okay, just know I'm right here whenever you need to vent." I respond with a cheesy smile.
We lapse into silence for a moment, the sounds of the arena faintly echoing around us. Despite the win, there’s an undercurrent of something else between us.
“You know,” she says quietly, breaking the silence, “I didn’t expect this job to be so... complicated.”
“Complicated how?” I ask.
She looks at me, green eyes searching mine. “Balancing professional boundaries with... everything else.”
Ah. There it is.
I nod slowly. “Yeah, it’s not easy.”
Her gaze drops to her hands resting on her laptop. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm cut out for this."
I move closer, the tension between us palpable. “Hey,” I murmur, lifting her chin with a gentle hand. Her eyes are a storm of emotions, and all I want to do is take away her pain. “You’re doing great, you know that?”
Olivia’s eyes search mine, looking for something, maybe reassurance or a lifeline. Without thinking, I lean in, closing the gap between us. Her lips part slightly as she tilts her head up.
Before I know it, we’re kissing—deeply, intensely. My hands slide to her waist, pulling her closer as our mouths move together in perfect sync. Her fingers tangle in my hair, sending shivers down my spine.
The world narrows to just the two of us; everything else fades away. It’s as if nothing else matters but this moment.
But then she pulls back abruptly, her breathing heavy. “Not here,” she whispers.
I blink, reality crashing back in. We’re still in the rink’s press area. Anyone could walk in at any moment.
“Right,” I say, running a hand through my hair and trying to regain some composure. “Where then?”
Olivia bites her lip, glancing around nervously. “Somewhere more… private. Follow me."
She gets up from the bench. I take her outstretched hand as she leads me towards the exit. My mind races with possibilities, but all I know for sure is that I don’t want this moment to end.
We reach the parking lot. She turns to me, her eyes full of something I've never seen before. And I hope to fuck it's lust. Or the hard on in my pants right now is going to be real disappointed.
"My place?" She asks meekly.
"I'll follow you anywhere Olivia Lutz," I say with a grin.
In a haze, I follow her back to her place. Behind the wheel my mind races, caught between the thrill of the moment and the nagging thought of what this could mean for everything else. But as soon as we pull into her apartment, all rational thought evaporates.
As soon as we step inside, she’s on me, her hands gripping my jacket and pulling me towards her. Our lips crash together in a frenzied kiss, a mix of desperation and need. I kick the door shut behind us, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.
“God, I’ve wanted this,” I murmur against her lips, my hands roaming over her curves. Her body fits perfectly against mine, every touch igniting a fire that spreads through my veins.
“Shut up and kiss me,” she breathes, pulling my head down to hers again. Our mouths move together with an urgency that borders on frantic.
I lift her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her towards the couch. We collapse onto it in a tangle of limbs, our movements hungry and unrestrained.
"Where's Oscar?" I ask between her onslaught of kisses.
"There's a horny woman writhing underneath you and you're asking about a dog?" she asks with a smile.
"What can I say, his photos made quite the impression." I retort with a salacious smile.
"You can meet him later." She grunts out as her fingers fumble with my shirt buttons. I help her by yanking it over my head. She runs her hands over my chest, nails grazing my skin and sending shivers down my spine.
“You’re overdressed,” I growl, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She lifts her arms obediently, letting me pull it off in one swift motion.
We pause for a moment, just staring at each other. Her eyes are dark with desire, and it takes everything in me not to lose control right then and there.
“Noah,” she whispers, voice husky with need.
I don’t need any more encouragement. My lips find hers again as we fall back onto the couch, our bodies pressed together so tightly it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.
Her hands are everywhere—my back, my hair, pulling me closer even though there’s no space left between us. My own hands are busy exploring every inch of her skin, memorizing the feel of her under my touch.
We move together in a heated rhythm, our breaths mingling as we lose ourselves in each other. Every kiss is a promise; every touch is a declaration.
I never imagined it would feel like this—so raw and consuming. But with Olivia beneath me, all thoughts of consequence vanish. It’s just us in this moment—nothing else matters.
“Bedroom,” she gasps between kisses. I nod, scooping her up again without breaking our connection.
We stumble through the hallway to her room, our movements hurried and clumsy with desire. She kicks the door open and we tumble onto the bed in a flurry of sheets and limbs.
. Olivia raises her hips and shimmies out of her pants, leaving her in just her panties. The sight of her nearly takes my breath away. She’s perfection. Every curve, every inch of her is like a goddess sculpted from marble.
"You're perfection," I murmur, my eyes drinking her in.
She gives me a playful smirk, wiggling her hips as I tug her panties down. They slide off her legs, and she stands there, gloriously bare.
I start trailing kisses up her stomach, savoring the feel of her skin under my lips. Each kiss draws a soft sigh from her, making me crave more. When I reach her bra, I unhook it with practiced ease, letting it fall away to reveal her perfect breasts.
Her nipples are already hard, and I take one into my mouth, sucking gently before devouring it hungrily. Olivia moans, arching into me, her fingers tangling in my hair as she writhes beneath my touch.
"God, Noah," she gasps out. "Lose the pants."
"Yes ma'am," I reply with a grin, standing up to strip off my pants and underwear in one slick movement. Her eyes roam over me appreciatively as I kick the last of my clothes aside.
I kneel back on the bed between her legs, our bodies now skin to skin. The heat between us is almost unbearable, and I can see the same need reflected in Olivia’s eyes.
“Better?” I ask, sliding my hands up her thighs.
“Much,” she purrs, reaching for me.
We come together again in a heated kiss, our bodies pressing even closer. Every touch sends sparks through me; every moan from Olivia drives me wild. There’s no more holding back—just raw desire and the overwhelming need to make this moment last.
I pause, reality cutting through the haze of desire. "Do you have a condom?"
"Shit," Olivia mutters, her frustration clear. "No. I swore off men months ago and decided I didn’t need the temptation."
I can't help but laugh, "And hows that going for you?" She gingerly smacks me in the shoulder. I let out a breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't have one either. I don't usually do this."
She looks up at me, her eyes sincere. "I’m on birth control. And I’m clean. If you’re comfortable with it, then I'm okay with it."
Her trust hits me harder than any slap shot I've taken. She’s putting herself out there for me, and it feels... big.
"Alright," I say softly, feeling something shift inside me. "If you're sure."
She nods, her gaze steady. "I'm sure."
With that assurance, I lean down to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her lips. My hands roam over her body, relearning every curve and dip. Her skin is warm under my touch, and every gasp she makes sends a thrill through me.
I position myself at her entrance, feeling the heat of her against me. She’s slick and ready, and the sensation nearly undoes me.
"Look at me," I murmur, needing to see her eyes.
She meets my gaze, those green eyes dark with desire. Slowly, I push into her, feeling her body stretch to accommodate me.
“God,” she breathes out as I slide deeper.
The feeling is indescribable—her warmth surrounding me completely. We move together in a rhythm that feels natural and right, our bodies perfectly in sync.
I adjust her position, gripping her hips and changing the angle. Her cry is immediate, raw. "Please, Noah, don't stop."
"Not a chance," I growl, my voice rough with need.
Our movements become more fluid, synchronized. The room fills with the sounds of our moans and praises. Each thrust drives us closer to the edge, and I can feel her tightening around me.
"I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I apply pressure to her clit. "Come for me, baby," I command, my voice thick with urgency.
With a shuddering cry, she does. Her body clenches around mine, pulling me into her climax. The sensation is too much, and it sets off my own release. I bury myself deep inside her as I come, filling her completely.
"Fuck, Olivia," I whisper into her ear between ragged breaths. "You're perfect. So fucking perfect."
She clings to me, her breathing gradually slowing down. Our bodies remain entangled as we ride out the waves of our shared ecstasy.
Finally, we collapse together on the bed, our limbs a tangled mess of sated exhaustion. The room is quiet now, save for the sound of our breathing mingling in the aftermath.
"That was... wow," she murmurs against my chest.
"Yeah," I agree softly, running a hand through her hair. "Definitely wow."
Lying there, tangled up with Olivia, a realization crashes into me like a freight train. I shouldn’t be here. This... this complicates things. The team, Liam, our dynamic—it’s all hanging by a thread.
I pull back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Olivia,” I start, my voice low and conflicted. “I... I’ve gotta go.”
She blinks up at me, confusion flashing in her eyes. “What? Why?”
I sit up, running a hand through my hair. “We’ve got early morning practice. And I—” I hesitate, not sure how to phrase the mess of thoughts swirling in my head.
“Right,” she says quietly, sitting up too. The sheet slips down her body, but she doesn’t bother pulling it back up. “You should go then.”
The disappointment in her voice hits me hard, but I know staying will only make things worse. I stand up and start gathering my clothes scattered across the room.
“Tonight was... incredible,” I say as I pull on my jeans. “But we’ve got a lot on the line with these playoffs.”
She nods, though she’s avoiding my gaze now. “I get it,” she murmurs. “Hockey first.”
“It’s not just that,” I say quickly, stepping closer to her. “This isn’t about priorities or anything like that. It’s just... complicated.”
Olivia looks up at me then, her green eyes searching mine for something—maybe understanding or reassurance. “Noah," she says softly. “Just go.”
The walk to the door feels like crossing a battlefield. My mind is a war zone of conflicting emotions—guilt, desire, confusion.
“I’m really sorry,” I repeat, feeling like a broken record. "I never wanted to hurt you."
As I reach the door, I turn back one last time. Olivia’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking small and vulnerable in the dim light.
I was just balls deep in that beautiful woman, and I don't have the fucking balls to even tell her goodnight. Fuck me, I'm not that guy.
As I drive home, the silence in the car is deafening. Olivia’s scent still lingers on my clothes, a tantalizing reminder of what just happened. I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to focus on the road, but my mind keeps drifting back to her.
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. My heart is a war zone, torn between what I feel for Olivia and the loyalty I owe to Liam. This isn't just a casual fling—it’s Olivia. And she’s amazing. But she’s also Liam’s... what? Interest? Potential girlfriend? Hell, even he doesn’t know what she is to him.
I pound the steering wheel in frustration. How did I let this happen? One minute we’re joking around, and the next we’re tearing each other’s clothes off like we’re in some damn romance novel.
My phone buzzes in the cup holder, snapping me out of my thoughts. It’s a text from Liam in the group chat: "Practice at 7 AM sharp tomorrow. Don’t be late."
Great. Just what I need—a reminder of my responsibilities when all I want to do is sort out this mess.
When I pull into my driveway, the weight of everything hits me like a freight train. I sit there for a moment, engine idling, staring blankly at the dashboard.
How am I going to face Liam tomorrow? And Olivia—what does she even think about all this? About me? Was it just a one-time thing for her? The questions swirl around my head like a storm, each one more relentless than the last.
I kill the engine and step out into the crisp night air. The walk to my front door feels like trudging through quicksand. Inside, the house is dark and empty—a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions inside me.
As I collapse onto the couch, exhaustion finally sets in. But sleep doesn’t come easily. My mind replays every moment with Olivia—her laughter, her touch, her kiss—and every thought of Liam—his friendship, his leadership, his claim on her.
What have I done?
“Fuck,” I mutter into the silence.
I close my eyes and let out a long breath, knowing that tomorrow won’t be any easier. The lines between right and wrong have never been so blurred, and navigating them feels impossible.
But for now, all I can do is try to get some sleep and hope that somehow, some way, this mess will sort itself out. Because if it doesn’t... well, let’s not go there just yet.
With one last sigh, I turn off the lights and head to bed, praying that morning brings some kind of clarity—or at least a distraction big enough to keep me from falling apart completely.