Page 24 of Truce: Declan
"You could say that," he says with a sigh. "It's fine. I'd rather not talk about it."
I shake my head. "You don't get to do that. Tell me something horrible happened, and then say how you don't want to talk about it."
"Why not?" Noah asks, staring at the cabinets, his vision far from me.
"Because I care about you!" I wince at my words and my tone. We barely know one another, but spending the evening together, not just tangled in my sheets, made me feel more toward him than any other guy I've met.
"We had one date," he reminds me, and I glance away, folding my arms across my chest.
"Yeah, so?" I try not to let him belittle what we had, what we did together. I enjoyed his company, even when we were watching a movie or eating dinner.
"It was good," Noah says, his voice calmer, softer, more rational.
The silence hangs in the air like a fog between us.
"What happened last night?" I whisper.
"My ex showed up. She was at my apartment, waiting for me."
"So, you're getting back together with your ex," I say, finishing his thought. I can't do this. Pretend not to care. Yes, it was one night, but I wasn't expecting to be a rebound. "Excuse me," I mutter, moving away from the kitchen and heading for the hallway.
"Wait," Noah says and grabs my wrist, pulling me to turn around and face him.
My lips part, and I stare at him, waiting for him to say something else. To give me a reason to stay, to talk to him, to figure this out.
"I'm not getting back together with my ex," Noah says. "But it's more complicated than that."
"More complicated?" I repeat, and my eyes widen. "Is she pregnant?" I blurt the question out before really thinking it through. Noah hadn't mentioned a girlfriend or a recent break-up. But maybe he didn't want to talk about it last night. It wouldn't be a great conversation on a first date.
"No, she's not pregnant," he says, stoic, refusing to give anything away. "But I've got to deal with her shit. It's why I didn't text you. I didn't want to drag you into her drama."
Okay, not pregnant.
"Were you two married?" I ask, trying to guess what the big deal is. What could possibly have him so uneasy?
He quirks a grin. "Thankfully, no. She's married to a real creeper. I'm just trying to help her out. That's it. But I don't want to drag you into her mess. I like you, Charlotte. I'd like to keep seeing you."
"But?" I ask, waiting for him to let me down, tell me he's not interested, that he'd rather reconcile with his ex.
"No but," Noah says. He offers a faint smile. "You're a real catch, and I don't want you to get snatched up by another guy."
I chuckle at his remark. There aren't any guys at NYU that I have even the slightest desire to get to know further. It's always been about sex with them, never anything more.
"I don't have any intention of dating anyone else," I say. "Trust me, after our date last night at the ice arena, I don't think anyone else can even compare."
"Good," he says, the smile growing on his face. His eyes shine as he stares at me, his fingers falling to my hips, holding me steady and keeping me close against him. "I hope you'll be at my game tomorrow. Cheering for me."
"I wouldn't miss it."
He's smiling, staring at me, making the butterflies surface. "Afterwards, you're welcome to come to the Blue Line, when we celebrate our victory."
I don't ask what the plan is if they lose.
"I'll be there," I say. I've been to the Blue Line with Amber when she was flirting with Jasper, and I was abandoned at the bar. Not that I minded, but this arrangement will be far better.
"Good. And I expect you to wear my jersey."
I laugh under my breath. "That's a tall order, Reece."
