Page 64 of Rookie Season
“I missed you, too,” she whispers back.
I didn’t realize I said the words out loud, but I can’t even think with her warm hands on my bare chest.
Her hands slip out of my shirt and loop around my neck. I miss the skin-to-skin contact for a brief moment, but then she uses her hands to pull my face closer and kisses me again.
She tugs my bottom lip between her teeth in the sexiest move. I love that she’s feeling confident, that she’s kissing me how she wants, and in response, I nip at her lip, and I’m immediately rewarded with another one of those soft moans that has me losing my mind.
My phone pings loudly from my pocket and I groan, pulling away from the woman who has my brain completely scrambled.
“Do you think that’s one of the guys, wondering where you are?” Ally asks through a shaky breath, apparently thinking more coherently than I am right now.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before reluctantly pulling my phone out and glancing at the screen. It’s Penn. I’ve never disliked him more.
Penn
Are you almost here? You’re always early. Just making sure you didn’t get kidnapped.
“You should probably get to practice,” Ally says, reading the same text I am.
My thumb and forefinger grip her chin, turning her face up to look at me. “I do have to get going…but we’re not finished here.” I place one last kiss on her mouth before stepping back to grab my jersey from off the floor, where Harry Styles is curled up and sleeping soundly. I tug it out from under him, and it’s now covered in fur, but I have no regrets.
Ally’s laughter draws my attention and when I look back up, I notice my lucky jersey is hanging up behind her. I reach over her shoulder and remove it from its hanger, then hand it to her. “I need my practice jersey for tonight, but why don’t you wear my lucky one.”
“Okay.” Her lips, swollen from our kisses, pull up into a smirk. “You think Penn and Fisher are going out tonight after practice?”
I nod. “I’m sure they will,” I say, reluctantly walking toward the door and glancing at her over my shoulder. “But I’ll be home before nine.” I tilt my head toward my luckyjersey clutched in her hand. “You can wear that and wait for me.”
My words have her inhaling a sharp breath, the small but telling reaction to my words almost enough to make me forget my hockey career, cross the room, and claim her mouth again.
Ally’s eyes darken as she swallows. “I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER 27
ALLEGRA
I stand stock still,feet glued to the spot in the laundry room where Noah was just kissing me. My fingers press against my puffy lips as the echo of the sexiest words anyone has ever spoken to me—and probably ever will speak to me—ring in my ears.
Wear that and wait for me.
My stomach clenches tight at the memory of the scorching look in Noah’s dark eyes as he rasped out those words with confidence, with utter certainty, that he knew I’d do whatever he asked me in that moment.
I'm not sure how long I stand there in the laundry room—could be ten seconds or ten minutes—before I snap out of my post-kiss haze enough to function properly.
I feel like I’m drunk, even though I haven’t had a sip of alcohol in months. Honestly, I have no idea how Noah is going to drive himself to an ice rink so he can skate around and hit a puck for the next hour, because my legs are jelly, my head is spinning, and I’m totally intoxicated on everything that ishim.
Noah’s jersey still clutched in my hand, I slowly makemy way to the bathroom. As I peel off my tank top and shorts and duck into the shower, I realize how sensitive every inch of my skin feels, still lingering in the remnants of his touch.
I’ve never been kissed like that in my life. Kissing Noah was a heady rush of sensation—every nerve ending in my body alive, sensitive, and responsive to his touch, his taste, his smell. I love how he kissed me without holding back, yet somehow let me feel like I was in complete control.
Nothing makes sense right now, because I have no coherent thoughts running through my brain apart from the fact that I want—no,need—more Noah. I wash my hair, then shave my legs carefully.
When I’m done, I wrap myself in a plush towel and stand in front of the mirror, looking at my swollen-lipped, flush-cheeked reflection in the mirror. I allow my imagination to dream up how good it will feel to kiss Noah again once he arrives home.
We’ll have the loft to ourselves.
Just the two of us.
After blow-drying and styling my hair, brushing my teeth twice, and moisturizing my body from head to toe, I practically dance back to my room. From the bed, Harry Styles studies me—but in a non-judgmental way…I think.
