Chapter 29 Ruth
twenty-nine
Ruth
The game blurs past me in a mixture of slicing skates and echoing sticks. I’ve sat through plenty of hockey games. Every single one of Noah’s to be exact, but the tension has never been so thick. Every missed puck shot feels like it lands in my gut.
I wasn’t expecting Noah to get much ice time.
I’ll admit, I’m ready to see him play when Coach Carlson finally calls his line.
I hold my breath as he pushes off, skating as fast as he can.
It would be easy for my chest to swell with pride, but this whole dream is so vulnerable.
I know better than to get ahead of myself.
He may have made it off the bench, but he still needs to play.
He’s able to get in front of the puck, but his reach for it is clipped off by his opponent.
My stomach drops, but he’s not one to give up.
He chases after it. Seconds later, the horn blares, and Noah is back on the bench.
That was short.
Folding my hands in my lap, I squeeze them to prevent from shouting out something that would embarrass him. It’s hard to watch as the other team widens the gap on the scoreboard with another goal right into the net.
Bill’s presence sitting in front of me is also a gravity all its own.
I’ve seriously never experienced anything like this, as it layers a whole new kind of tension into the air.
I honestly believe he plans to respect my wishes to wait to let everyone know about us until I can find a way to tell Noah, but one part of me suspects he has a tiny bit of loose cannon in him.
He may hit a point where he spirals and doesn’t think clearly.
The clock ticks down mercilessly.
The goals scored are ones that make us even more behind, and people start to look bored and reach in their pockets for their keys to start their cars. Many people don’t even wait until the end of the game, and they move toward the exit, as if they’ve already given up.
It’s a hard truth to swallow.
Just because Noah made it to the AHL doesn’t mean success will come easy. When the final buzzer blasts through the arena, three hours after the game started, the scoreboard confirms we lost.
All I can see is Noah getting up from his spot warming the bench.
His expression is stone flat. I know him too well, and I see the disappointment shadowing his eyes.
Instead of going directly into the locker room with the guys, he turns toward me.
I instantly know to open my arms, and he falls into a hug that makes me take a step back.
It breaks me to feel his loss, and I hold him, not caring for a second who sees it.
“You played hard. That’s all that matters. ”
“Thank you,” he whispers into my shoulder, voice raw.
Confused, I lean back enough to search for his expression. “What are you thanking me for?”
“For getting me here. There’s no way I’d be here without you.” There’s a faint glint in his eyes. Sure, it’s tired, but it’s there. And at that moment, the loss doesn’t matter.
He’s still my boy, who is chasing his dream.
And I’d carry every ounce of stress, every heartbreak, and every loss like I’ve always done, if it means I get to be here for him like this. “I’m so proud of you. You played with heart.”
He pulls away, aiming to follow the last of the guys off the ice. His gaze wobbles from them to me. “Wish we’d won.”
“It’s okay. We have all season, right? We can go home, and I’ll make your favorite homemade pizza.”
“Actually…” He hesitates, as his gaze goes back to the ice for a split second. “Some of the guys invited me to get wings.”
I nod, adding a full smile. “Go, you need to do that.”
“I won’t be out too late. I have an early skate tomorrow.” He turns, and as he hustles off so many emotions run through me, my heart seems to putter with confusion.
I’m sad they lost.
I’m happy he’s making friends on the team and they are coping their own way.
I’m so proud of him for making it here.
And if I’m honest with myself, I’m really looking forward to a warm bubble bath and some quiet time to read before bed. Do I miss being the one Noah spends all his time with?
A little.
But it’s healthy for him to grow up too.
I make my way to the parking lot, being careful not to get hit as beams of headlights race out of the exit. When I finally find my little car under a sheet of fresh powder, I brush the snow off my windshield with the sleeve of my pink coat. An SUV pulls up beside me and beeps the horn.
Slowly, I turn but I already know. Bill has the driver’s side window down, and he’s leaning an elbow over the edge.
“Hey, you,” I say. “Good game for the first one.”
Shrugging with his face, he says. “Lots of room for improvement.”
I dig in my purse for my key ring, finding it right as I ask, “Are you joining the team for wings too?”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling with mock shock as though I’d broken some sacred rule.
“No one invites the boss.” His voice is playful, but there’s something there.
It’s almost like a nervous edge I never noticed before.
He turns to fully face me and raises his brows like he expects me to know what he wants.
My pulse stutters as he waves me toward him with his finger. It’s like there’s an invisible string pulling me to him. I step forward, closing the gap between me and his car. “Can I kiss you now?” His voice is raspy.
My breath catches. Part of me wants to play it cool. We aren’t in the building anymore but I’m still in the parking lot. Sure, most everyone has left, but still…you never know who will see, and the gossip mill in Mapleton is another level.
But it is mostly dark outside.
A part deep down inside of me wants to kiss him. I’m not trying to be a tease or put him off. I certainly don’t want him to get sick of me pushing him away.
I’m all too aware of the risk I’m taking when I take a small step forward.
I lean over, expecting to press a chaste kiss to his lips and back up before someone sees me, but as soon as our lips touch, they melt together.
My knees almost buckle, and I slide my hand up to hold on to the car for balance.
When I finally do pull away, my chest rises and falls too quickly.
“Get in the car,” he whispers, but I don’t have any problems making out what he says.
Still gripping the car, I take a deep breath and risk a joke, “That’s what kidnappers say, you know.”
“Clearly, I’m not a kidnapper.” He chuckles, but his eyes never leave mine. That’s the thing about him that gets me the most. As successful as he is, with all the things he must have to do, he never acts rushed around me. I always feel like I’m the priority, as he’s a giver of quality time.
The tension that had been building all day from the suspense of the game, and even from not seeing him, slips away. Maybe it’s a mistake, but I walk around to the other side of his SUV and slide into the passenger seat.
I don’t ask questions because somewhere along the way, I’ve learned to trust he handles things better than I ever would.
I buckle up in silence as he watches me.
My curiosity prickles as I don’t know what to expect from him.
Instead of driving off, he looks me dead in the eyes. “Tonight was brutal.”
“The guys—”
He cuts me off, speaking firmly over me, “Not the guys losing. Do you know how hard it was for me to look at you all the way across the arena and not be able to be by you? You have to tell Noah about us. I’m not doing that again.
He’s not a little boy. He’s eighteen, and he went out with his teammates. He won’t even care what you do.”
I bite my lip, fighting the way my whole body leans toward him.
“Not yet,” I whisper, the words tasting like regret the second they leave my lips.
The air between us shifts. My chest tightens with guilt.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt softly, “Sorry. I know this is so insane. I’m a forty-year-old woman, but Noah is…
you know, he has anxiety. I was really hoping they’d win the game tonight, so I’d have that in my pocket, but—”
“Don’t be sorry. In a weird way, I get it, and I know I’m being selfish.” His lips curve into that boyish grin that always makes my knees weak. “I love sneaking around with you.”
His words hit me low in the stomach, bringing a little relief, but it doesn’t relieve what I know I must do.
I don’t want to think about it now though.
I have a little time before Noah comes home, and I slide as far as I can in my seat, getting as close as possible to Bill.
I drop my voice playfully. “Tell you what, just give me a little more time. A week tops. In the meantime, I will meet you anywhere you want as long as it’s private but not private, and public but not public. ”
His throat bobs with a swallow. “That’s a deal.”
As he starts the car, the low rumble fills the silence, but it’s his hand slipping onto my leg that steals my breath.
The gesture isn’t possessive. It’s more a reassurance that he's okay with my craziness.
When he shifts the SUV into gear and pulls forward, I hold up a finger.
“Remember, I really only have an hour or two.”
“I know just the place.” He winks at me and then steers out of the parking lot.