Page 72 of Rookie Season
Back then, I didn’t understand the stigma my mom endured for being a teenager who’d accidentally gotten pregnant. I didn’t hear the whispers or see the dirty looks she often got from the other mothers on the playground or know that some of my friends weren’t allowed to come over to my house because their parents didn’t think my young, single mom was a good role model.
All I saw was how happy Carter made my mother.
And I knew that when she was happy, I was happy. And so every night when I went to bed, I’d close my eyes and wish for my mom and Carter to get married.
For him to be my new dad.
And when he finally did get together with my mom, it felt too good to be true. Like I’d wake up and it would all be a dream. Our first night after moving into what is stillour family home, I fell asleep in a beautiful four-poster bed fit for a princess. I was unbelievably happy—and simultaneously terrified. I vividly remember screwing up my eyes and wishing harder than I’d ever wished for it all to be real.
Fast forward to a decade later, and I still make wishes at night. Since what happened at that party months ago, I often can’t sleep, and end up lying awake at night, fists balled up as I wish with all my might that I could go back in time and not go to that party…then my life could go back to the way it wasbefore. Icould go back to the way I was before.
But last night, something changed. As I fell asleep with Noah’s arms around me, a sense of calm and peace settled over me as I realized that I no longer wished to change anything…because then, I never would have met the man who was holding me. The man who listened to me without any judgment, then helped me grow as he led me to see that no matter what happened or didn’t happen that awful night, it wasn’t my fault, and my pain was valid.
These emotions are complicated to wrestle with. The knowledge that the worst things that happen to us can open doors that lead to the best things.
But in that, I find immense comfort.
Comfort that extends into the next morning, when I wake up and I’m immediately greeted by the sight of Noah, freshly showered with damp hair, standing at the foot of my bed and looking down at me like I’m something…no, someone…special.
“Good morning,” I whisper, suddenly a little shy.Shy, but not ashamed.
“I went for an early workout,” he replies, eyes soft. “You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I don’t remember the last time I slept so well,” I admit.Beside me, Harry purrs contentedly. “I’d better get up and do something productive.”
“I, uh,” Noah says, pausing as he seems to reach for words. “I was wondering if you wanted to do something together today? Like out of the loft, just the two of us?” He bites down on his lip as he studies me, waiting for my reaction.
My heart picks up speed. “What did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could use some fun.” His lips tip up at the corners. “How do you feel about going skating?”
“Um, I feel that I’ve never done it before, so I’ll likely fall on my ass a million times,” I say with a laugh.
Noah doesn’t join in with my laughter. Instead, his eyes find mine.
“I won’t let you fall, Ally,” he says in a low, gravelly voice that makes my stomach flip. In this single sentence, I know in my core being that something fundamentally changed—shifted—between us last night. Not just physically, but emotionally. Like we’re on a whole new, deeper level with each other now. One I’m desperate to keep exploring.
“I’m in,” I say quickly—probably too quickly.
“I’ll meet you downstairs at my car in twenty minutes? Figure we should meet there so we don’t have to face the Spanish Inquisition from Fishy and Penn. Nosy bastards.”
This makes me chuckle. “Good idea.”
Noah leaves, and I spring into action, pulling on a pair of high-waisted leggings that I know make my butt look good, and adding a matching sports bra with a cropped dove gray sweatshirt over the top. Cute, casual, and athletic. I look in the mirror, scooping my hair up into a high ponytail secured with a white scrunchie, and I smile.
After a trip to the bathroom where I take the time tobrush my teeth and apply some lip gloss and mascara, I feed Harry and then practically run for the door, shoving my feet into my sneakers as I go. I hope Noah isn’t annoyed that I took so long.
Penn, who’s lying on the couch, looks up and smiles in amusement. “Where are you going in such a hurry? Hot breakfast date or something?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I call as I duck out of our front door, his laughter following me.
I find Noah in the parking garage, leaning against his Honda and looking particularly hot today in a forest green hoodie, a backwards baseball cap, and dark sunglasses—it’s a good look on him. Especially because he’s holding two travel coffee cups from the coffee shop next door.
“I stopped by Bay Brew next door while you were getting ready,” he says, holding out one of the takeout cups he’s holding. “One cream, no sugar. Right?”
I smile, loving that he knows this. “You really pay attention.”
“To certain things,” he responds casually as he opens the car door.
