by Gina Azzi
“Of course,” Claire huffs.
“Me?” I point to myself. “When have I ever gotten into trouble?”
“When you spend too much time with this one.” Austin points at his sister, speaking the truth from years of experience.
I shrug, stuffing a large forkful of pasta into my mouth.
“Hey, how’s East doing?” Claire asks Austin.
He sighs, rubbing a hand across his forehand. “He’s doing pretty good. Really focused on his recovery. I know it’s good, obviously as the team captain, it’s great, that Sims is playing so well. I’m just worried East isn’t going to have a position to come back to by the time all is said and done.”
Claire’s face falls. “Have you seen him again?”
“Yeah, two days ago. Noah’s visiting him now.”
My ears perk up at this. Noah didn’t mention visiting his brother. I wonder if it’s hard for him, to see Easton struggling the way he is. I wonder if he’s talking about it with anyone since he hasn’t said anything to me.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I check to see that my family members are all engaged in conversation before I fire off a text.
Me: Hey! Busy tonight?
It only takes a few moments for him to respond, which makes me smile.
Noah: Busy doing you?
I snort.
Me: What happened to not being a booty call?
Noah: You’re a 100 times more than that and you know it.
Me: How’s East?
Bubbles appear and disappear at the bottom of the screen several times before it stays blank. I frown.
“Indy?” Mom’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
I glance up.
Everyone is staring at me and I flush under their looks.
“Yes?” I ask, wondering what I missed.
“How’s everything going with the trip you’re planning?” Mom asks.
“Oh!” I smile in relief. “It’s going great. I chose the final eight students and two backups for the travel and we’ve launched into some methods for gathering information in the field. It’s…” I fill them in on the logistics surrounding the trip. By the time I’m finished, everyone seems satisfied with my response and new clusters of conversation break out.
I peek at my phone screen again.
Noah: He’s okay.
Noah: Where are you?
I frown at his message, not understanding why he’s asking.
Me: Aunt Mary’s
Noah: Oh. Cool. See you after?
Me: I’ve got to stop at campus. I’ll come by around nine?
Noah. Okay. See you then.
Me: See you
I slip my phone back in my pocket. Next to me, Claire gives me a knowing look and I smile but inside, something feels off. Unsettled. It’s unlike Noah to be so abrupt, even in a text message.
Gah, what is wrong with me?
I promised myself I wouldn’t read too much into everything, not this time. Definitely not with Noah Scotch.
Taking a deep breath, I pick up my wine glass and take a long sip.
After the busy week I had, a night in Noah’s bed will do me good, even if his conversation leaves me wanting more.
He’s quieter than normal, a little lost in his head.
“You okay?” I ask, dropping onto his couch and stacking my feet on the ottoman.
“Yeah,” Noah sighs, glancing at me. “Saw East today.” He shakes his head. “It just sucks, seeing him there, knowing how hard he’s working at things. And here I am.” He waves his beer bottle in the air.
I offer him a sympathetic shrug. “You didn’t do anything wrong by being able to have a beer.”
“No,” Noah agrees, tipping the bottle back and draining its contents. His eyes pierce mine. “But neither did Easton.”
“I’m sorry, Noah. Do you want to talk about it?” I keep my tone neutral but lean forward, hoping he confides in me.
He watches me for a long beat. When he blinks, some of the aloofness in his gaze fades, desire filling its place. “I know a better way to work out my mood.”
I snort. “Cute.”
“Get over here, Little Indy,” he beckons.
Standing, I walk over to him slowly. Noah bites his bottom lip, his eyes scanning my body. When I’m within arm’s length, he reaches out and tugs me forward by my belt loops. “I’m happy you’re here.”
It’s sweet and my heart rate ticks up at the sincerity in his tone. I slip onto his lap, straddling him. My hands rest on top of his shoulders. Noah’s hand cups my cheek affectionately, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Me too,” I murmur before I dip my head and kiss his lips.
He pulls me closer, kissing me softly and slowly. I savor the taste of his kiss before his tongue slips into my mouth, dancing with mine. Noah’s hands fall to my hips, squeezing and kneading as I drop even lower on his lap. Slanting my head, I deepen our connection and let out a mewl as I feel him harden beneath me. I grind against him, the friction of my jeans against his length causing desire to pool between my legs.
“Jesus,” Noah breathes, ripping his mouth from mine and kissing the underside of my jaw. His hand slips underneath my shirt and works it up, until it’s bunched over my bra and my breasts are in his line of vision. He wastes no time.
“Noah,” I breathe out, cupping the back of his head as he yanks the cup of my bra down and fastens his mouth around my nipple. My eyes close as sensations rock through me. Noah’s mouth is hot on my skin, his one hand buried in my hair, his other teasing between my thighs. I groan, knowing I should be embarrassed, but too far past caring.
I’m nearly twenty-eight years old and here I am, writhing against this man, still fully clothed, and too goddamn desperate for his touch to rein it in. Noah’s mouth streaks across my chest as he latches onto my other breast. I’m grinding against him as hard as I can, swearing at the denim prohibiting our contact.
Noah bites down gently and I cry out before he flips me onto the couch. My back hits the cushions and he hovers over me, his eyes wild. “Need you, Indy.” He grabs at his shirt behind his neck and tugs it off. It falls to the floor and for a second, I wonder how he always manages to do that so gracefully. But then he’s popping the button on my jeans and I’m pulling my shirt over my head.
In a matter of minutes, we’re naked and panting, staring at each other like we can’t believe how quickly we got to this point. My eyes zero in on his hard cock and I lick my lips, reaching out to wrap my hand around the base. Noah swears, his eyes dropping to half-mast. I stroke him gently, liking the silky feel of him against my palm. His eyes devour my body like a feast, his fingers caressing my skin.
“Give me a minute, babe.” Noah brushes a kiss across my mouth. “Need to run and grab a condom.”
The thought of him leaving in this moment, even for an instant, fills me with impatience. Need pools in my core, my body so freaking tight, I could snap. Still, I nod. Because there’s no way to ruin casual faster than not using a condom. Noah swears and slides off of me, taking the stairs two at a time. I giggle as I watch his naked ass disappear and reappear three seconds later, a box of condoms in hand.
“Feeling pretty confident?” I tease.
Noah chuckles, grabbing a foil packet from the box and dropping it next to the couch. “Don’t know what it is about you, Indy, but I bet we could burn through the entire box.” He sheaths himself and shoots me a playful look. “It’d be all you though.”
“Obviously.” I grin.
Noah resettles over me and gives me one long look that I can’t decipher. Then, his mouth finds mine again and my laughter turns into a whimper. A needy, desperate whimper. I reach for him again, picking up where we left off.
His eyes close, his cock twitching under my touch. His abdomen tightens, his shoulders roll, and I tug him closer, desperate to feel his weight over me, taste his skin, get lost in his touch. He forces his eyes open and they pierce mine.
I hook my leg behind his knee until he fal
ls forward, careful to brace his weight without crushing my body. “Fuck,” he murmurs, kissing me hard.
In an instant, everything shifts. The slow and playful morphs into desperate and hot. The soft rages into hard. I feel Noah’s hands everywhere, his mouth pouring need into mine.
“Look at me, Indy,” he demands, his tone ragged.
I force my eyes open and take in his expression. His mouth is parted, his breathing labored. His eyes are black, more intense than I’ve ever seen them. He doesn’t blink as he presses into me and I cry out, arching into him.
Noah gathers me to his chest and stills for one beat before pulling back. He works a rhythm that has me seeing stars, my body burning hot and cold. His fingertips dragging against my skin feels like a live wire and his breath in my ear causes goosebumps to spread over my skin.
“Noah,” I urge him to move faster, moving my hips up to meet his.
He swears and quickens his pace. My body coils tighter and tighter, my core pulsing, my fingers clutching his back. Then, I break, screaming out his name and shattering into a million beads of bliss.
Noah follows immediately afterwards and collapses on top of me before rolling so we’re both on our sides, my ass hovering over the edge of the couch.
“That was intense,” I breathe out, my heart galloping.
Noah’s fingers dip into my waist as he growls, “What the hell am I doing with you, Indy? What the hell was that?”
I snort, keeping my eyes closed and enjoying this moment a hell of a lot more than I should. Considering it’s casual. Considering it’s fun, sexy times.
But damn does my heart sing at Noah’s words.
14
Noah
I flip the puck to Sims, noting from my peripheral vision that Austin blocks for him. Sims breaks away, perfectly executing a wrist shot as the buzzer for the second period sounds. The team celebrates, smacking Sims’ helmet and back. As we collapse onto the bench, guzzling water, an energy shift seems to wash over the bench.
For the first time since Sims claimed my brother’s spot four weeks ago, the team embraces him. Words are exchanged but the edge is gone, playful punches don’t hold the same strength, the veil of distrust has been lifted.
Sims catches my eye and dips his chin. I lift mine slightly and we come to an understanding. He’s my teammate and I’m going to do everything I can to push the team forward. But I’ll always have my brother’s back.
The realization settles me some and feels good, as if I’ve come to an important decision after long nights of it weighing on my mind, zapping my energy.
“Listen up,” Coach Phillips walks down the bench, rattling off instructions and tweaking some of our play. We’re up 3–1 against the Seattle Serpents and we need this win, need to keep the start of our season successful with the right morale to carry us forward. “Don’t lose your edge. You’ve got one period left,” Coach bellows, slapping our helmets as he passes.
When the buzzer sounds again and we line up for the face-off, Austin tosses me a grateful grin and I know we’re doing the right thing. We’re backing Sims to ensure he becomes part of the team, we’re creating a rhythm with him that may be more promising than our natural ease with Easton. We’re doing what’s right for the team, even if it isn’t what’s best for my brother. But then again, I think back to everything I’ve learned from Indy, maybe it is. Maybe what’s best for Easton aren’t the assumptions I’ve been carrying around for ages. Maybe it isn’t even hockey.
The puck is dropped and play begins. Tuning out the noise in my head, I focus in on the puck. Austin passes to me and I skate furiously up the side of the rink, flipping a backhand pass to Sims before I’m body checked into the boards. We play hard for the next four minutes until a fight breaks out between Torsten and a Serpent. Within moments, the entire team on the ice is involved and the whistles are blowing angrily from the referees with both coaches shouting at their players. Once the fight is broken up, I spot Austin’s grin. Sims jumped in first for Torsten and there’s no better way to cement team unity than by taking a punch intended for another guy. Torsten’s lip is bleeding but the Seattle winger looks worse off.
I chuckle, scratching my cheek. God, I’ve missed this game. I’ve missed this rush. I’ve missed it all since the end of last season. I glance up to the box where the WAGs always sit. When I spot Indy’s face, I smile.
Seeing her here, cheering us on, fills me with even more excitement for tonight. Adrenaline buzzes in my veins and I lose myself once more to the game I love.
After we secure our fourth win this season, Boston celebrates. Good energy and vibes dance over the team and we all agree to head to Taps, one of our team favorites and frequently visited bars.
I shower quickly in the locker room, dressing in dark jeans and a black sweater. My cheek is red from where I got slammed but other than that, I clean up pretty well.
“Want to ride together?” Austin asks as I close my locker.
“Isn’t your family here?”
“Yeah. We’re grabbing a bite before I meet the team for drinks. Come with us,” he offers, the way he always does.
In the past, East and I would rarely join his family after games, knowing it was a nice opportunity for him to catch up with his parents and sisters. Plus, it was understood that East and I would grab a bite together too. But now, with Indy’s family living in Boston and East gone, the dinners have become less core family and it makes it easier for me to shrug and say, “Yeah, sure.”
“Let’s go.” Austin starts for the door, smacking Torsten on the back.
Torst glances up, his phone glued to his ear, his expression tight.
“See you at Taps?” Austin asks.
Torsten nods and shoots us a half grin but I can tell he’s stressed about something. I clasp his arm as I pass and his grin turns real.
“Hey Ryan, you coming?” Austin calls out to James.
James looks up and offers us a tight smile but shakes his head. “I have to get home.”
“Good game, man,” I say as I pass him. If I thought this year was hard for me, it’s been pure hell for James.
“I saw Indy sitting with the WAGs,” I say as we leave the arena. I liked seeing her up there more than I should. Because she wasn’t up there as my girl and for a second, a part of me wished she was.
Austin chuckles. “I bet Claire dragged her along. She’s on a mission to get Indy out in the world.”
“What do you mean?”
He glances at me over the hood of his car as he pulls open the driver’s side door. “The WAGs talk about real things happening in their lives.”
“Girl talk?” I ask skeptically, opening the passenger door.
Austin ducks and slides into the car and I follow. He flips the ignition.
“They talk about trips they’re planning and the best primary schools to enroll their kids. They talk about house hunting in Boston and sales that are happening at different boutiques. They talk about their own businesses and managing a business while moving…” He shrugs. “They talk about a lot of things that don’t involve being completely absorbed in some textbook espousing political theories. Moving here was the best thing my cousin did since going away to university after that asshat broke her heart. It finally got her to pull her nose from a book and stop studying all the time and enjoy life as it’s happening around her.”
The asshat that broke her heart. Jace Edwards.
“What was the deal with her and Jace anyway?” I ask, keeping my voice casual as I pull on my seatbelt.
“He played her the way he plays all the women in his life,” Austin answers, pulling out of the arena’s parking lot and pointing the car toward the restaurant. “I hate talking about a player’s personal life but Jace fucked with Indy’s head for a long time. Always tried to make her feel that his life, his priorities, hockey, and his career were so much more important than hers. I hated how he talked down to her, like what she was going to school for was stupid since she was goin
g to end up with him and just follow him around from city to city so he could play hockey. Drove my uncle fucking nuts.”
I swallow past the angry lump forming in my throat. What a dick. I could see him doing it though. Jace Edwards has always been an entitled, arrogant, man-child. He acts like he’s God’s gift to hockey (he’s not), women (he’s definitely not), and life in general (what a joke).
“Didn’t she just kick him to the curb?” I ask.
Austin shakes his head, stopping at a red light. “I mean, eventually. But not until he really stripped down her self-esteem, made her question herself and her future, and then fucking cheated on her with another player’s fiancée.”
My hand tightens into a fist on my thigh. I fucking hate that Jace, that a guy like Jace, would cause Indy to question herself. I really hate that he cheated on her. And I absolutely abhor that it was with another player’s fiancée. That one hits too damn close to home.
Damn. What a piece of work.
“But she’s doing good here, in Boston?” I ask.
Austin narrows his eyes and swings his gaze toward mine. “What’s with all the questions?”
“Nothing, just curious.”
“About Indy?”
“Yeah, man. She’s an awesome girl.”
“She’s my cousin.”
“That doesn’t make her any less awesome.”
Austin snickers, shaking his head. “She doesn’t date hockey players.”
I bite the corner of my mouth to keep from saying anything.
Austin’s laughter increases. “I’m serious, man. She has sworn off hockey players, much to my uncle’s delight.”
“I just like seeing her, that’s all. She’s like a breath of fresh air after a shitty year,” I finally say, not wanting to admit just how much real estate Little Indy Merrick is taking up in my mind. And not wanting to dismiss the fact that I’m into her either. Jesus, what a limbo to be in.
Austin pulls into a parking spot and turns off the car. He stares at me for a long beat. “Indy’s special, Scotch. She’s not like the girls you’re used to.”