Page 74 of Rookie Season
“I’m going to audition,” I speak the words out loud,feeling brave, and with a sureness that I feel deep in my bones. “To be a dancer inExpressions. I’m going to do it.”
“That’s my girl.” Noah’s smile lights me up from the inside. He runs his fingers through my hair tenderly, protectively, as he adds, “And I’ll be with you every step of the way. Whatever you need. You can do this.Wecan do this.”
Noah’s encouragement makes me smile, too.
“Maybe that should be our next date then. Dancing.”
“Next date, huh?”
A blush creeps up my neck as I realize what I inadvertently said. “Uh, not that I mean I think this is a date or?—”
“It’s a date, Ally,” Noah cuts me off firmly, squeezing my hand. “The first of many.”
His words make my heart soar.
“How presumptuous,” I tease.
In response, he gives me a sexy smirk that throws me off balance, and I wobble precariously.
“Ahh!” I squeal, the sensation of starting to fall making my stomach swirl for a moment before, quick as a flash, his hands slide back around my waist, tugging me close and keeping me upright.
“Say that again; I dare you,” he says in a low, gravelly voice that makes me hot to my very core.
I tilt my chin up defiantly. “How presumptuous,” I repeat, the words full of sass.
“That’s it, Callahan,” Noah says before he leans forward and lifts me in his strong arms in one swift motion—like I weigh nothing. He holds me tight to his chest as he begins to skate at top speed around the rink, a dizzying pace that has my heart fluttering.
“Put me down!” I yell with a laugh, but I don’t mean it. Not one bit. I decide I don’t ever want to be anywhere but in Noah’s arms, period.
Noah skates over to the boards and sets me down gingerly. His hands skim down the sides of my body, fingers catching that inch of bare skin between where my sweatshirt ends and my leggings begin, and I suck in a breath, my legs wrapping around him as he stands before me.
He looks down at me tenderly, the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.
“Hi,” I say, the syllable catching in my throat.
He chuckles throatily. “Hi.”
He’s so close, sharing body heat with me. His face is mere inches away, and my current position sitting on the boards cancels out our height difference. I rest a hand on his chest, and I can feel the erratic rhythm of his heart pumping beneath my fingertips. His gaze holds mine, and when he leans forward, I immediately do the same, desperate to close the last of the distance between us.
But instead of kissing me, Noah presses his lips to my forehead in the sweetest, softest kiss that spreads fireworks across my skin and melts my heart.
“I’m so happy you’re in my life, Ally,” he murmurs.
“I can hardly remember what life was like without you,” is my honest response.
CHAPTER 31
NOAH
I lean backagainst Ally’s headboard with my laptop resting on my thighs, trying to get comfortable. It’s eleven in the morning, so she’s already at work for the day, but I like being in her space. Especially since I fly to Canada tonight for a stint of away games, and I won’t get to see her again before I leave.
This morning I woke up in her bed, holding her, like I have every morning since she told me what happened to her. I plan to sit here as long as I can and enjoy the smell of her perfume surrounding me. Spying her purple hair tie on the nightstand, I smile and slide it onto my wrist. The slight pressure of the band makes me feel a little closer to her, and I decide to take it with me when I leave.
Without her here to distract me, I glance around her room like I’m seeing it for the first time. Everything in here screamsAlly, from the white bedspread laced with a soft pastel-colored pattern, to the posters of dance shows on the walls. Pink twinkle lights are strung up around the room, with perfume bottles and jewelry littering the vanity. She has a bulletin board hung nearthe bed, covered with photos of her with her family. Her mother—who looks like a slightly older version of Ally—her famous stepdad, her little brother, and what looks like a bunch of extended family members. She’s included about a dozen photos of Harry Styles, as well (the cat, not the singer). I find myself realizing I would really like to make it onto her bulletin board. We should’ve snapped a selfie on our skating date.
The memory of our time together a few days ago brings a contented sigh from my lungs. I wanted to kiss her again so badly, but something even stronger than that intense urge held me back…because I want her to know this isn’t just physical for me. This isn’t casual. I want toknowher, and for her to know me. So I’ve held off from kissing her or touching her—short of crawling into her bed every night and wrapping my arms around her when I’m sure Fisher or Penn aren’t around to see me ducking into her room. Even though we’ve ended up talking about anything and everything for hours each night while I’m in her bed, I sleep better knowing she’s safe next to me, and I’m really going to miss her while I’m away for three nights.
I open my laptop to check the clock and see it’s time for my therapy appointment. Pulling up the link to log in for my Zoom call with my therapist, I feel suddenly nervous. As much as I enjoy talking to Dr. Lamb, working through my emotions is hard work. It’s uncomfortable. It makes me think about things I’d rather keep buried. But I know this is what I need.
