Page 33 of Rookie Season
“I like silence when I drive,” he snaps.
And so, we’re silent for the rest of the drive home, which feels like it takes approximately twenty-eight years instead of twenty-eight minutes. But I know for a fact that it takes twenty-eight minutes because I watch the clock on the dashthe whole time. And for all twenty-eight minutes, he’s completely focused on the road, with his spine straight and his mouth in a firm line. His facial expression reminds me of Edward when Bella’s scent wafted towards him, and he fled biology class.
He had a bad day,I remind myself as we pull into our building’s parkade.
And on top of that bad day, he still made time for his family tonight. And the way that he is with his nieces gave me legitimate butterflies—I liked seeing that softer, sweeter side of Noah that I didn’t know was in there.
In fact, him being covered in all that glitter tonight reminded me of my own childhood. When I was little, back when my mom and dad were just friends and hadn’t gotten married yet, Dad used to let me do the same to him, never complaining once as I coated him in lipstick and eyeshadow. He was always there for me, filling that father-figure role in the best way for years before he became my dad legally.
So just seeing the way Noah was with Paige, Laini, and Harlow tonight, Iknowhe’s a good guy…but not going to lie, I don’t understand him at all.
“Thank you for the ride,” I tell him when we are finally out of that cramped car and walking towards our loft. I had my seatbelt off and door open practically before he’d come to a complete stop.
“You’re welcome, Ally,” he replies, that pained look visible again in his eyes as he watches me dig around in my bag for my key.
I finally locate my key, and I can’t get inside fast enough. I’m hoping for a friendly face or two in front of the TV, but we find the loft quiet and dark.
“They’re out at the bar tonight,” Noah explains, clearly sensing I’m looking for Penn or Fisher. His jaw tics in annoyanceas he says this, and I bite my lip, resisting the urge to give him a little shove.
Is it really so bad that Penn and Fisher like me?
And would it really be so hard for you to like me, too?
“Oh,” is all I can manage aloud. Real scintillating stuff.
“Well,” Noah says, standing by my side in the spacious entryway. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I reply.
As he walks away from me, I stick my tongue out at his retreating back—childish, I know, but I’m frustrated as all hell—before I head to my own room.
I was going to hit the gym, but I decide against it. Since that first night on the treadmill here, I’ve been putting myself through punishing daily workouts, running towards oblivion as fast as my lungs and legs will let me, until I’m sweaty and breathless and my brain is entirely devoid of all thoughts.
It’s been nice to put my body through that kind of pain, a manageable, achy, good kind of pain that I can push through in the knowledge that it's only making me stronger, while it forces all thoughts of Tyler’s hands on me to take a back seat.
But after all of today’s walking around the city and then teaching four hours of back-to-back dance classes, my muscles are starting to protest. I should take a break from the treadmill tonight.
And that’s when I remember the conversation at dinner—we have a hot tub!
With Penn and Fisher out, and Noah already in his room for the night, it’s the perfect time to try it out.
I can practicallyfeelthe steamy hot water soothing my aching muscles already. With a sudden smile, I change out of my dance clothes and into a yellow bikini with little whitedaisies on it, then scoop my hair up into a claw clip and wrap myself in a big, fluffy bath towel.
“I’ll be back soon, Harry,” I tell my cat as I throw my bedroom door open…just as Noah’s door opens across from mine.
He freezes when he sees me, and I realize he’s wearing black swim trunks and has a towel draped across his broad shoulders.
Our eyes meet, and his are as wide as a deer caught in headlights—wait, moose!
Ah, but Penn isn’t here so it doesn’t matter.
I quickly avert my eyes…but then find myself face to face with his ridiculously sculpted bare chest and taut stomach.Is that a twelve pack? How’s that even possible?
My eyes fly back to his face and we both stand there in our respective bedroom doorways like idiots.
After a moment, he gives me a small, closed-lipped smile and nods down at the towel I’m currently clutching for dear life around my chest. “Were you on your way to the shower or hot tub?”
“Hot tub,” I say, silently praying he was planning to shower. “You?”
