Page 24 of Hidden Goal

noah

The Dynamic Duo Plus Noah GC

Ivy: Which one of you pissed off the parentals?

Lana:

Ivy: Mom just called to tell me they are coming for a visit next week, and since they only visit me when one of you makes them mad…

Noah: To be fair, you're due.

Ivy: I’ve paid my dues. The ten years before you were born.

Noah: I’ll make it up to you.

Lana: Sibling trip this summer?!

Ivy: On Noah’s dime.

Lana: aka Dad’s.

“Bro, I think Sage might actually be the devil,” Maverick whispers.

“Did she kill you with Burpees again?”

“Worse! Manmakers. Except she calls them Womanmakers.”

I huff a laugh and drop my phone on the bench before looking over at the woman who has Gabe scratching his head as they go over his lift percentages.

Somehow, a woman who barely comes up to my armpits is able to intimidate every guy in this gym.

Sage is a pistol of a woman. No one really knows a whole lot about her, except that she drives a vintage, green Bronco with an Aster Meadow bumper sticker on the back.

Her dark, wavy hair sits just above her shoulders, and sometimes I think she has a nose ring, but other times it seems to be hidden—just like the rest of her personal life.

I can tell she’s curious about my training outside of her plans, but she never pries into my life, so I offer her the same respect.

One thing she can’t hide, though, is that accent.

“Hall! Get over here. I’ve got more plans for you,” she yells out.

“Crazy how hot that sentence should be and yet…” He grimaces before jogging across the gym.

I pick up my dumbbells and lean back on the bench, pressing up.

I know I should feel bad for Ivy. Our dad has never been super close to either of my sisters, but Ivy took that as a personal attack.

There's no point in telling her he does have good qualities—even if his choices have been more on the extreme end the closer I get to our goal—she doesn’t want to hear it, and I love my sister, so I respect that.

Still, the relief I feel knowing that I’m going to have some semblance of a break coming up is immediate. Dropping my weights, I rub a flat palm across my chest, not recognizing the light sensation since I’ve become so used to the nagging ache that I thought had taken up a permanent residence.

“You good?” Silas asks, sitting down on the bench across from me. “You went home early after practice and were asleep by the time we got back.”

I sometimes wonder if Silas is so quiet because he’s too busy paying attention to what everyone else is doing.

“Oh yeah.” I wave a hand. “I was fighting a headache. I think I tried to cram too much studying into my brain at once.”

I did go home early with the intention of studying, since classes don’t slow down just because my training schedule has picked up. But I was pleasantly surprised to get a late-night phone call from Savannah, which kept me up for a while after I hung up with her.

Silas nods his head in understanding, and he either believes me or he knows not to push it, because he doesn’t say anything else.

“Actually, you want to roll with me? I’ve got to pick up some supplies.”

He turns his hat around on his head with a shrug. “I’m down.”

After two ridiculous hours at the hardware store, I dropped Silas off back at the house. I should have stayed and finished studying, but I lied—to both him and myself—that I needed to get some coffee first. Really, I’m just out of my mind and hoping Savannah is working.

A midwinter snow came down last night, and it’s been freezing ever since. But when I enter The Den , it’s not the furnace or the fireplace that warms me—it’s seeing Savannah, not working, but sitting at a table with Professor Diaz.

Her aunt smiles when she sees me heading toward them, and Savannah must take notice, because she turns in her chair and a slight blush tinges the tops of her cheeks before she turns back around. I absently wonder if that’s the same shade of pink she wore on the phone with me last night .

Professor Diaz never takes her eyes off of me and her smile never falters.

“Hi, I’m Noah,” I say, extending my hand to her.

“Yes. I know who you are, Noah,” she says, taking my hand in hers as she stands. “I’m going to grab another tea. Would either of you like anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you. I won’t be staying long.”

She nods her head once, turns on her heel, and I look back down at Savannah. I feel the pull on the left side of my mouth, thinking about the things she said last night, and it must be written all over my face because she points a finger at me and scolds me.

“Don’t say anything.”

I slide my thumb and index finger over my lips and throw away an invisible key before pulling out the chair beside her. I spin it around, sit down, and rest my arms over the back of it. “I thought about you last night.”

She ducks her head, murmuring something that sounds like ‘ oh my god’ , before looking around—probably checking to make sure no one heard me.

“I don’t need to know about your bedroom fantasies, thank you.”

“But you're the star of all of them.” I smile sweetly at her.

She does that smile where her dimples shine through, but the corner of her lips pull down slightly because she’s straining against it.

When she can’t fight the pull anymore, she covers it with the backs of her fingers.

On the outside of her wrist sits a tiny tattoo of sun and moon.

I make a mental note to ask about it later, feeling fully confident it’s a stamp of love between her and the little Coop.

“So, I planned a pretty special date for you.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhmm.” I nod my head. “Tomorrow night?”

I keep my smile, but hold my breath as I watch her.

Her cheeks hollow out and her eyes narrow slightly.

I know that, at any moment, she could tell me she wasn’t serious, or even that she just changed her mind.

Both of which I would have no choice but to accept, but I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be extremely disappointed.

To my surprise, she taps her fingers on the table in front of her, nods her head once, and says, “Okay.”

Relief washes through my body, but I don’t let it show. “Okay,” I echo.

“You better go before my aunt comes back. She’ll want to give you the third degree, but she’s so sweet that you won’t realize she’s doing it.”

I stand from the chair and turn it back around, sliding it under the table. I’m taking my win and not pushing my luck any further today. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“I can drive.”

“Savannah, it’s a date. I’m picking you up.”

She bites her bottom lip, and I can’t stop myself from cupping her chin in my hand. I pull slightly, freeing her lip, and run my thumb along the side of her cheek. “What’d I tell you before? Stop hiding that from me.”

Her throat bobs slowly, and when she looks up at me through her thick fan of lashes, I have to bite down on my intrusive thoughts. I head to the door, already counting down the minutes until I get to see her smile like that again.