Page 55 of Hidden Goal

“Well, lucky for you, I’m practically a professional.” He smiles over his shoulder, unaware of the panic rising in my blood with each step we take.

The beat thumping in my ears is so loud that I wonder if Noah can hear it too. It isn’t until I swallow down the nausea in my throat and take a breath that I realize it’s my own heart pounding.

“I thought of about thirty options for a first date before landing on this,” he says, guiding me to sit beside him as he pulls on his skates. “And I know this might not seem like the most extravagant date, but it’s the best way I could think to share the biggest part of myself with you.”

The lake has been shoveled into a perfect rectangle—of course it has—it was done by Noah. Everything he does is with purpose and an immense amount of heart. The way he planned this perfect night—just by simply paying attention to me—shows. His vulnerability helps put some of my fear aside, too. Still strumming my bottom lip, I face him, cup his cheek, and swipe my thumb along the edge of his jaw. One corner of his mouth twitches and I fight the instinct to pull him in close and kiss that perfect mouth. He makes quick work of lacing his skates before standing to his full height in front of me.

The second my feet slide into the new skates, I’m engulfed by an odd yet familiar feeling. Nostalgia for something I used to love and uncertainty about something I gave up. My fingers tremble as I pull on the laces. Noah cups the back of my calf and lifts my leg between his. His strong thighs gripmy skate, and his deft fingers wrap the strings around my ankle as he ties them in the front.

I inhale the frigid air as I stand, look down, and wait. I wait for my breath to get shallow. I wait for black spots to fill my vision. I wait to hear the blood rushing between my ears, or for my heart rate to peak to dangerously high levels. I wait for the panic to knock me on my ass—but instead—I’m met with the warmth of Noah’s body at my back, wrapping me in a blanket of comfort.

His fingers lace with mine and I close my eyes, dropping my head back to his chest. We stay like this for a minute, with his heart beating steadily at my back against the quiet night.

A wet drop from a snowflake lands on the tip of my nose, and when I open my eyes, the stars above me are slowly dancing by. To my left, the tree-lined perimeter of the lake begins to blur together, and when I look down, my skates move between Noah’s.

I’m skating.

Well, Noah is skating, and he’s taking me along for the ride.

“How ya feeling?” he murmurs into my neck.

My eyes sting, but my smile couldn’t possibly grow any wider. I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing one lone tear to fall before I bat it away.

His arms slowly begin to unwrap from behind me, and before I can look back at him, he’s already in front of me. He clasps my hands in his, holding me securely, and his legs never stop moving. He glides backward effortlessly, pulling me along with him. A weight that I didn’t realize I had been carrying slowly floats off of my shoulders behind me.

A cry slips from my mouth, but I mask it with a smile and follow it up with a genuine laugh. I tentatively let go of his hands and let my arms fall behind me against the wind. The frosty air kisses my skin when I throw my head up to the night sky, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Noah’s presence shifts to a force by my side, telling me that he’s here, and it’s all I need to pump my legs a little faster. My cheeks grow chapped from the wind, but I go faster still. When I reach the end of the shoveled part of the lake, I cross-step and take off back in the other direction. My body moves like it never left the ice and my heart beats like it’s happy to be home.

23

noah

Something sparkedto life inside Savannah out on the lake, and I feel like I won the fucking lottery getting to witness it.

I’m not oblivious to all the ways this date almost went up in flames. Starting with the drive. She seemed relieved when I didn’t ask any questions about her need to drive, and I have never felt the need to push her. When I give her some time, she reveals little pieces of herself to me—when she’s good and ready. If I’m honest, I like that she doesn’t give parts of herself away so easily. It makes getting to see those quiet moments from her—seeing her transform from small and stilted to absolutely fucking soaring—that much more special. More intimate.

The bathroom door cracks open, revealing Savannah in a pair of my deep, forest green sweatpants and matching sweatshirt. They’re swallowing her whole, but doused in the moonlight shining through the patio door, she looks unreal. Her beauty is unmatched, with her wind-blown hair, cheeks that are slightly still pink, and the somewhat hesitant way she nips at her bottom lip—she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Her bare feet pad softly across the floor, stopping just between my legs, where I sit at the end of the bed.

I pull her in closer, dropping my forehead to her stomach, and breathe her in. She smells like my soap, with the faintest trace of vanilla still lingering on her skin. No oranges. I sigh and make a mental note to get her one later.

“What’s wrong, Golden Boy?” I can hear the smile in her teasing voice as she drags her fingers through my hair just as she did the other day—only this time, she pulls slightly when she gets to the nape of my neck. I liked it then, and it felt comforting in a way that I had never felt before, in a way I hadn’t known I longed for. But tonight, it feels like more than mere want. Tonight, having her fingers run through my hair is a burning desire.

Her body is smooth as I slide my hands up and over her hips. I lift the hem of my sweatshirt enough to see the way she has rolled the waistband of my sweatpants at least five times. They hug her hips, and I’m irrationally jealous of a piece of cotton. Her skin is soft and warm against mine as I drag my thumb from one hip bone to the other, causing her fingers to flex a little tighter on my shoulders.

I press my mouth to the lowest part of her stomach, a slow smile spreading across my lips when her skin erupts in goosebumps. My thumbs slip into the waistband of the sweats, and I pull them down half an inch before looking up at her for permission.

Her hooded eyes are on me as her fingers grip the back of my neck harder and she moves to straddle my thighs.

“Nine days and four hours, Savannah.”

There’s a slight tilt in her head, but she doesn’t speak.

“It’s been nine days and four hours since I felt your mouth on mine.” I kiss her stomach once more. “Nine days and four hours that I’ve thought about nothing except those sweet little moans you make.” I stand, gliding my hands up her body until my thumbs find the underside of her breasts. I drop akiss to her neck. “Nine days and four hours where I’ve had to wonder if you taste as sweet as you sound.”

Her hands have found their way to my biceps, where she tentatively holds on. It’s a stark contrast to the way I want to sink my fingers, my teeth, and my cock into her. I brush her hair back, cup her face between both of my hands, and press my fingers against her neck. It’s there that I find what I’m looking for. The beat of her pulse flutters like a caged butterfly. My teeth bear down on the middle of my bottom lip. I’m elated to know that she’s trying so hard to pretend she’s still unfazed. Meanwhile, I’m fighting the restraints against every primal urge in my body.

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