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Chapter Nineteen

Troy

Savannah’s settled on the couch, Noah nestled comfortably in her arms. I grab the remote, flicking on one of our games from last season. She glances up, curious.

“So…how does this work exactly?” she asks, eyes shifting between me and the screen. “All I see is a bunch of guys skating around like madmen and slamming into each other.”

I grin, sitting down beside her, close enough that I can see the blush creep onto her cheeks. “It’s all about the plays, Savannah. Trust me, there’s more strategy here than it looks like there is on the surface.”

She nods slowly, and I can see she’s trying to follow, even though her face tells me she’s a little lost. “All right, coach, walk me through it.”

I point to the screen. “See the guy there? That’s Finn, number fourteen, our center. He’s trying to get the puck up to Declan, number seven. They’re co-captains, and Declan’s one hell of a defenseman.”

She squints, following my finger. “And what’s the guy doing now? That…ah! Someone’s going down!”

“That’s Axel, center and bruiser, number twenty-seven. Not exactly gentle, but hey, he’s effective.” I chuckle, then glance over at the screen again. “Yeah, it looks rough, but we’re careful.”

She raises an eyebrow, looking dubious. “Right. I bet you just get up and brush it off every time.”

I shrug, giving her a smirk. “Pretty much. You’d be surprised what we can shake off.”

Noah makes a soft sound, and she adjusts him, her smile gentle. “I don’t know, Troy. Looks intense. But…I can see why you love it.”

I pause, watching her for a moment, feeling a strange warmth settle within me. She really is something. Shaking that thought off, I lean back. “Hey, how about I order dinner?”

She tilts her head, looking amused. “Uh…I’m the chef, remember?”

“Yeah, and tonight, you’re the babysitter.” I grin. “Come on, what do you feel like?”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Fine, fine. Surprise me.”

I pull out my phone and place an order for Thai, figuring it’s something she’ll enjoy, and while I’m at it, I mention that Jamie’s coming by for breakfast. I don’t miss the way her cheeks go pink at that, and I raise an eyebrow.

“What’s going on there?”

“With you and Jamie?”

She looks away, focusing a little too intently on Noah. “Nothing. Just…Jamie’s nice.”

“Right,” I say, grinning a little. There’s more to that story, but I let it go—for now.

Dinner arrives, and we dig in while I keep explaining plays, talking her through our strategies. She listens, even asking questions every now and then. And for once, things feel…easy. Comfortable.

I glance over at her halfway through the game, only to find her head leaned back against the couch, her eyes closed, lips parted slightly. She’s out, and Noah’s dozing peacefully in her arms.

What Coach said earlier about Savannah helping me with Noah…it sticks with me. She’s been running herself ragged, helping out day and night without a single complaint. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have her here.

Careful not to wake her, I ease Noah out of her arms, carrying him to the crib in the corner. I grab the baby monitor she bought, just in case, and place it near him. The kid’s sleeping soundly, oblivious to all the changes around him.

I go back to the couch and watch Savannah for a moment. She looks peaceful, her cheeks soft and flushed, lips slightly parted as she breathes evenly. It’s strange—having her here, seeing her like this…it makes the place feel warmer, less like an empty apartment, and more like a home.

I head to her guest room, finding a pack of makeup wipes on her dresser. When I return, she’s still sound asleep, her face relaxed.

I crouch down, gently wiping the remnants of makeup from her cheeks, her eyelids. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, she just sighs softly as I finish cleaning her face.

With a careful lift, I pick her up, carrying her down the hall and into her room. Her floral bedspread stands out, bright and colorful against the neutral tones of the rest of the house. It makes me smile.

I lay her down, pulling the covers up and tucking her in, my hand lingering just a second longer as I brush a strand of hair away from her face. She looks so peaceful, so…natural here.

Leaning down, I press a light kiss to her forehead, then turn out the light, heading back to my own room.

I stand by Noah’s crib for a minute, watching him, his little chest rising and falling softly. He’s a damn miracle, this kid. And Savannah…well, she’s been a miracle too.

I finally slip into my bed, a strange sense of calm settling over me, and for the first time in a while, everything feels right.

***

It’s dark, and I’m in that weird space between asleep and awake when a wail pierces the quiet. Noah’s up.

I sit up, rubbing a hand over my face, and move to his crib. His little face is scrunched up, his fists clenched, and he’s letting out a cry that means business.

I scoop him up, bouncing him gently, whispering, “Hey, little guy, it’s okay. Just me. We got this.”

A few minutes go by, and then, sure enough, I hear the soft patter of feet. I look up, and there she is—Savannah, standing in the doorway, her hair all mussed from sleep, her eyes soft.

“How’d I get in bed?” she asks, blinking in confusion. She looks adorable, still half-asleep.

I smile. “You dozed off on the couch, so I carried you.”

She shakes her head, smiling softly. “Guess I was more exhausted than I thought.”

I nod down at Noah. “Want me to handle it? You should get some more sleep. I’ve got practice in a few hours, but I’m good.”

She steps closer, eyes on Noah. “I can care of him alone if you want. You need the rest more than I do.”

“It’s fine,” I say, patting her shoulder lightly. She sighs and, to my surprise, leans her head on my arm, watching as I gently rock the little guy. For a second, it hits me how…natural it feels, the three of us like this. It’s domestic, almost.

Finally, Noah calms down, his cries fading into soft coos. I lay him down carefully and change his diaper, then tuck him back into the crib. I turn back to Savannah, and she’s watching me, her eyes soft.

“Mind if I stay with him a bit?” she asks, almost shyly.

I chuckle. “Stay here. I mean, you’re exhausted, so…just borrow one of my shirts. We can take turns if he wakes up again.”

She blinks, surprised. “Are you sure?”

I nod, pointing to the dresser. “Top drawer. Grab one and make yourself comfortable.”

She hesitates for a second, but then heads over, grabbing one of my shirts and looking back at me as if to make sure it’s okay. I turn, giving her a little privacy, but all I can think about is her pulling on my shirt, the soft fabric draping over her, brushing against her skin.

The bed dips just a little as she climbs in, and I slide under the covers beside her, lying there, trying to keep my breathing even.

“Goodnight,” she whispers.

“Goodnight,” I say back, my voice barely above a murmur.

I lie there, willing myself not to turn around, not to do anything stupid. But the way she fits beside me, the warmth of her close by… it’s enough to keep me awake.

***

Morning comes too soon, and I wake up with the first rays of light streaming in through the window. There’s a softness beneath me, warmth that feels different, and I realize, too late, that I’ve rolled over.

I’m half on top of Savannah, her soft breaths brushing against my neck, her body warm and relaxed beneath mine.

And my cock is the hardest it has ever been.

Fuck me!