Page 7

“Hey, you remember when you were listing off all your wonderful attributes? You forgot to mention how humble you are.” I tease him.

“I can’t help it.” He shrugs with a smile. “You turn me into a bit of a peacock.”

“Unbelievable,” I mumble around my straw and force myself to look away from him because despite the annoyed act I’m giving him, I realize, that’s just what it is—an act. I can’t stop my face from betraying me, and the constant need to want to smile when I’m around him. It’s infuriating.

“If you’re not out celebrating our win, then this is just a regular Friday night for you?”

Shit. Chloe. I should have my best friend card revoked for momentarily forgetting I was waiting for her.

“I’m with my friend,” I absently answer him, twisting in my seat, searching for her.

“Your friend is safe and having a good ol’ time with Gabe.”

“Who?” I whip my head around, and in the same second, Noah is up and standing beside me.

His hand rests at the nape of my neck again, and he uses it to guide my focus across the bar.

His attempts are in vain, though. All of my attention falls on the way his touch electrifies my skin.

The sheer size, and the way he’s able to cradle my entire neck under that one palm, causes me to melt into him.

“That’s her right? The crazy little blonde one?” His beer comes into my line of sight, making the blurry images around me come back into focus. He points to where Chloe is throwing her head back, laughing with another guy I’ve never seen before.

“What makes you think she’s crazy?”

“For starters, I just watched her do a Jagerbomb.”

I pull my lips between my teeth, because yeah, that’s exactly something she would do.

“And she’s wearing cutoff jean shorts in the dead of winter.”

I snort a laugh. She is wearing shorts and an oversized T-shirt, looking more like she’s going to walk to get some ice cream on a July afternoon in the Outer Banks, rather than walk home through a dusting of snow.

I squint my eyes, trying to make out if the guy she’s talking to is someone she knows or not, before I remember Noah knows him.

“Who the hell is that?”

“I told you. Gabe. And possibly your friend’s date for the rest of the night.”

“Fat chance.”

“Is she single?”

“Technically? Yes.”

That damn smirk appears as he cocks a brow and somehow he’s able to grow more attractive. “Alright, Savannah. I’ll bet you anything you want that Miss. Jagerbomb goes home with Gabe tonight.”

I take one last look over at Chloe, hoping he sees a little bit of hesitation in me. But I know my best friend, so I turn back to the man with a cocky smile. “Anything?”

“What do you want?”

I pretend to think about it for a moment. “S’mores flavored jelly beans.”

He barks out a laugh, and it's deep and warm, but I don't give in. I stare him down. “They're the best flavor and they're really hard to find.”

“Alright. S'mores flavored jelly beans. You got it.”

I extend my hand out to him and he wraps his around mine. It’s big and rough, and the contact sparks something through me.

“Don't you want to know what I want if I win?”

“Not really. It won't matter.”

“Are you sure? He’s a defenseman. He’s charming and a really good guy.”

I crane my neck, looking at him, and he drops his hand, sliding it effortlessly into his pocket.

“You and your ‘ good guy’ bullshit really need to give it a rest.” The words flow out of me without thought, like they are second nature—it’s the teasing tone and the way I can’t stop smiling that I’m having a hard time recognizing .

“Alright, now you have to tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

He sits back down on his stool, putting just enough distance between us that I feel like I can maybe start to think clearly again. “What it is that you have against hockey players.”

I drag my tongue along my teeth, contemplating if I want to explain myself to him. I could easily get myself off the hook here by just telling him my dad is his coach. Not that that has anything to do with my active avoidance of hockey players.

When I look at Noah and see his face studying mine, I feel like I’m teetering some line.

I want to tell him I’ve never met a hockey player that didn’t just absolutely suck.

That I’ve had the displeasure of being let down by every one of them—my brother withstanding.

I briefly play with the idea that this situation is different, and just maybe he could be different. The exception.

Just as quickly as the thought comes, I brush it off.

Getting screwed over once could be considered a mistake.

Most people would argue twice to be a coincidence, which is exactly why I no longer give second chances.

But a third time? At some point, it’s a pattern, and I will not be made the fool who keeps going back for more.

I square my shoulders and lift my chin a little higher. “You’re all the same. You only care about hockey and you’ll do whatever it takes to be the best.”

“Well, first of all, I don’t think we’re all the same . But second, is that a bad thing? Doing what it takes to be the best?”

“It is when you don’t care about who you hurt to get there.”

It’s subtle, but his head rears back and a strand of hair falls over his eyebrow when he cocks his head slightly.

He doesn’t respond, and something about the way his eyes are analyzing me tells me it isn’t because he couldn’t come up with a snappy comeback if he wanted to, but rather that he’s waiting for me to elaborate. I don’t.

Noah opens his mouth but is interrupted by a crazy little blonde.

“Here you are, Luna Nightingale!” Chloe sets her handful of drinks down on the table between us.

“Who’s Luna Nightingale?” Noah looks at me, amused.

Picking up one of the glasses, I raise it to him. “Luna N. Twenty-one, Scorpio, scrappy, and severely sarcastic. Nice to meet you.” I glare at him with a snarky smirk that’s all mischief and no apology, before taking a sip of my drink.

He’s not put off by me in the slightest. In fact, he laughs, and I hate him for making me want to do the same.

“And how do you remember all those traits, Savannah ?” He says my name like he’s reminding me he knows my true identity.

“Because the scrappy and sarcastic parts are true, Noah .”

“Honestly? That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

I’m about to tell him that he doesn’t know me, and whatever he thinks he knows—he’s wrong, but two of his teammates bombard our table. The big one with the buzz cut—I’ve already forgotten his name—grabs Noah’s shoulders.

“Kingy boy!”

“Mav,” he says, shoving his friend off.

“Hello, ladies.” Maverick beams at us, waving a hand at me. “I’m Maverick. This is Milly.” He taps his friend's chest with the back of his hand.

“Silas.” He corrects and dips his chin in greeting.

“Chloe Cooper.” She extends her hand across the table to Maverick.

“Sexy alliteration.” He smiles before taking her hand.

“Wait. Where’s Gabe?” Noah looks back toward the bar.

“He dipped.” Silas replies.

Noah looks at me like I sabotaged him and his friend leaving was somehow my fault. “What do you mean he dipped?”

“He found a—” Maverick looks over at Chloe and me before turning back to Noah. “Friend.” He concludes.

I bite down on my smile and look away from Noah.

“Chloe Cooper, do you drink tequila? You strike me as a tequila girl,” Maverick asks while leaning his thick forearms on the table top.

Her gaze flirts with me for a brief second before turning her big, green, doe eyes back on Maverick. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had tequila before.”

Now I have to avoid looking at her as well. With my head on swivel, I look around the bar, anywhere but at my best friend, and Maverick erupts in shock and outrage.

“Neither of us have.” She continues her act while grabbing my wrist.

Maverick pounds a fist on the tabletop. “That’s a sin! Let’s go get a round… or three.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Milly, come help us carry them. We’ll be back.” He pats Noah’s shoulder and Chloe follows them back to the bar, leaving Noah and me alone together again.

“So those are your teammates, huh?” I feel like I have to yell louder than necessary over the crowd and Fetty Wap song blaring.

“Teammates second, best friends first.”

My eyebrows pinch together, shocked that he put their friendship above how well they play together. “Are you judging me?” He drops his head to his shoulder and steps closer to me. His thick thigh grazes against my knee, and I’ve never been so alert to how denim felt against my leg before.

“No, it’s… ” My voice comes out in a breathy whisper. I clear my throat and flip my hair over my shoulder. “Cutesy.”

“Aw, yes. Cutesy is how I’m so often described.”

I’ve avoided it all night but there’s no stopping it now, a laugh bubbles out of me. I cover it with my hand when something shifts in Noah’s expression.

“Don’t hide it.” His hand engulfs mine, and he gently pulls it away from my face.

Not for the first time tonight, my breath gets lodged in my throat.

It’s like trying to swallow through concrete when I realize he’s talking about my laugh.

He presses my hand against his chest, and Jesus, if I didn’t know who he was, I would think he bench-pressed oak trees for a living.

My fingers press in against the soft fabric of his hoodie, curling in slightly, like I’m trying to hold onto him all on my own.

An easy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and the sight is like a reward for exposing a tiny crack in my armor.

His thumb strokes the back of my hand and his eyes lock on mine.

It feels like not a single other soul exists right now.

He doesn’t dare move, but I don’t know if I can either, and I’m desperate for a break in this tension.

As if on cue, I hear a chant of “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Thank you, Chloe.

I swallow, pulling my hand back, and there’s a moment where I swear I feel him tighten his hold before he lets me go.

“How’d you know she wouldn’t go home with Gabe tonight?”

“She’s a hopeless romantic and she doesn’t do one-night stands.”

He shakes his head in a ‘ damn that was a stupid bet’ kind of way.

The chanting gets louder as our crew of friends make their way through the crowd, each carrying a glass or two per hand.

“Alright, Stella and Luna.” Maverick addresses us, and I laugh at Noah’s confused face.

“Stella.” I silently mouth the word, pointing to Chloe, and understanding dawns on him. He’s quick, I’ll give him that.

“Now, for your first time, you might want some limes.” Maverick turns, handing the rest of the tequila-filled glasses out.

Chloe hands me two, grabs her two, and drops her head back laughing at the ceiling while I roll my eyes. We clink both glasses together with matching grins, and then it’s bottoms up. I throw one back and then immediately down the other. It happens so quickly that the burn is delayed.

We drop the empty glasses to the table with an approving head nod, because the boys bought the good stuff, and we look across the table to find three sets of jaws practically detached.

“What the hell just happened?” Silas looks around, dumbfounded.

“Not what I was expecting for your first time.” Maverick eyes Chloe suspiciously.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly our first time.” Chloe shrugs. “That’s just what we tell people to get free shots.”

Maverick drops his head to his hands, rubbing his temples. He clearly hadn’t planned on getting duped tonight.

I grab Chlo by her elbow. “Did I forget to introduce you to my friend? Stella Starbright. Twenty-one, Sagittarius, social, sweet, and sensationally sneaky.”

Noah lets out a barking laugh. It’s deep and rich and wraps around me, warming my body.

“She’s funny. I like her.” He offers her a high-five and reality comes crashing down on me like a bucket of ice water.

Despite having a good time with him tonight, I need to remind myself that this is never going to happen.

“She’s drunk.” I hop off the bar stool. “Pizza from the street corner and bed?”

I give her the eyes that tell her I’m ready, and being the best friend that she is, she gets the hint.

“You read my mind,” she slurs, climbing down from her stool. “Let’s do this.”

I take one last look at Noah and offer nothing more than a curt nod and a tight-lipped smile. I turn to leave, but his hand catches me in the crook of my elbow.

“Wait.” He looks over my shoulder, scratching the back of his neck before he looks back down at me. It could be the two tequila shots I just had and my eyes playing tricks on me, but the usual cool and calm Noah seems… nervous. “Do you need a ride or something?”

I pull my jacket on and zip it all the way up. “No. We’re good. We walked. Thank you tho?—”

“Walked?!” He cuts me off. “She’s in shorts, and this fuzzy zip-up can hardly be considered a coat.” He drags a hand from my shoulder down to my wrist and I neglect to tell him that touch will keep me warm the whole way home. “Come on, let me get you a car.”

That sobers me up, because explaining that I don’t go anywhere I can’t walk to or drive myself isn’t something I plan on getting into with him tonight. Or ever.

“We live right down the street,” I say more adamantly than I intended, but he steps back and nods in understanding.

“Alright, well, get home safe.”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, dip my chin, and turn before he can say anything else to make my chest flutter.