by Gina Azzi
I scowl. “What do you mean the girls I’m used to?”
“She’s not like Courtney.”
“No shit.”
Austin shrugs. “I’m just saying, she’s special.”
“I know that. That’s why I like her.”
“And she doesn’t date hockey players.”
“You already said that.”
He lifts an eyebrow, his intent clear. I’m not going to end up with his cousin. “I’m saying it again.”
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “I heard you the first time, Merrick.”
He opens the car door. “Just making sure, Scotch.”
I follow Austin into the restaurant. As soon as we cross the threshold, fans are cheering and clapping. We’re ushered quickly to the table as a few people even stand from their chairs to applaud our performance tonight. Austin and I grin and wave and say a lot of “thank you’s.”
When we arrive at the table in the back of the restaurant, Austin cringes and I crack up at the balloons tied to the back of his chair. I swear, Mary Merrick is my favorite human on Earth. It doesn’t matter that her son is captain of an NHL team, he’s still her little boy and she still does things like buy balloons for his chair and send cupcakes to the team locker room on his birthday.
My laughter dies as she springs into action, untying some of Austin’s balloons and adding them to the chair beside his. “For you, my dear.” She points at me.
Austin snorts and I punch him in the shoulder.
“Great game, guys,” Indy’s dad says, ushering us to our chairs. I can tell he’s holding back his laughter from Mary’s antics.
Claire rushes us, giving us each a hug. Vanny kisses our cheeks and Mike shakes our hands. Indy wraps us in quick hugs, blushing when I smile at her.
We all sit down and appetizers arrive as if on demand while we take a few moments to scan the menu and choose entrees. Wine is poured, bread rolls are buttered, and the happy, loud chatter of the Merrick family fills my ears. Glancing around the table, a pang hits my chest. I wish Easton was here. But when I spot Indy’s glowing face, her eyes shimmering at whatever tale Vanny and her husband Mike are recounting, some of my worries ease. Instead, I let Indy’s sunshine and warmth wash over me and I realize just how happy I am that she’s here.
15
Indy
“You’re coming,” Claire demands.
“I feel like this is a theme in our lives,” I counter, trying to beg off of drinks with the team tonight. Not because I don’t want to go, I do. But because I have a full teaching day tomorrow and I’d rather not do it hungover.
“You don’t have to drink,” Claire promises.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Vanny’s even coming!” She tries again and my resolve begins to crack. I’ve barely seen Savannah since she moved to New York. With her husband’s hockey schedule and her own job as a teacher, she hasn’t been back to Boston in over a month.
“Please, Indy.” Savannah grips my arm and gives me her puppy-dog eyes. “Mike and I never get to come out with you guys.”
“Yeah, Indy. Please.” Mike pouts and I snort.
Rolling my eyes, I agree. “Okay, I’ll come. But I can only have one drink.”
Claire coughs.
“Two, max,” I amend.
Claire whoops and Savannah hugs me closer.
I turn to say goodbye to my parents and aunt and uncle and thank them for dinner.
Mom hugs me goodbye. “Have fun, Indiana. Really, these are the nights you should go out and enjoy. The whole city is alive tonight.”
I pull back and grin at her. “Mom, you’re supposed to encourage me to go home and prepare for my classes.”
She scoffs, humor in the lines around her mouth. “Please, Indiana, you’ve been over prepared for the past decade. Have a little fun.”
I press a kiss to her cheek. “If you say so, Mom.”
Dad wraps me in a big hug and slips me a $100, which always makes me laugh. I try to give it back to him but he shakes his head, his eyes bright. “You’re still not tenured,” he reminds me.
I roll my eyes and wave goodbye. While Savannah corrals Claire into her car with Mike, I’m ushered into the back seat of Austin’s ride.
“Are you sure you don’t mind us tagging along?” I ask my cousin as he pulls out of the parking lot.
He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Nah, not tonight. Tonight, there will be loads of the wives and girlfriends and friends. It’s a celebration. I’m glad you’re coming, Indy.”
“Me too,” Noah says, turning around to meet my eyes as he says the words. My cousin flips him a look but Noah ignores it. “What’s your poison tonight?”
I hold up a finger. “I can only have one drink.”
Austin and Noah crack up.
“I’m serious. I have classes all day tomorrow.”
“Yeah and don’t you think the majority of the kids in your classes are going to be hungover?” Austin glances at me in the rearview mirror again.
I roll my eyes. “That’s not a good reason for me to throw out the rule book.”
Austin chuckles. “You need to get out more, Indy.”
“I know,” I agree. My family’s support is sometimes more stressful than encouraging. As if they have unlimited faith in my decisions.
“Any new updates about your student trip?” Noah asks and I don’t miss the glare Austin shoots him.
Leaning back in my seat, I tell them more about the trip to Dhaka. “We’re even going to Grameen Bank. Muhammad Yunus started it in the 1970s and…”
“Wow,” Austin says, impressed. “What’s the purpose of the research aspect?”
“Ideally, to write a paper for publication. It will focus on the role of women in a patriarchal society and how women push the advancement of their families, and thereby society, forward when they have more control over the finances. It will be a great opportunity for my students to dabble in field research and also contribute to a publication. I’m really excited about it, obviously, and want it to all work out. To be honest, I’m a little nauseous just thinking about all the responsibility of things that could go wrong.”
Austin chuckles but Noah’s eyes are warm when they seek me out again. He looks at me with such intensity, such understanding, that for a second, it’s as if he sees all the way to my soul. Past my insecurities and doubts and to the heart of why this is so important to me.
“You’re going to rock it, Indy. You speak about your work with so much passion and enthusiasm, so much optimism, that your students are lucky to have you as a role model.”
His words rock through me, heartfelt and sincere and so encouraging. “Thank you, Noah.”
My cousin’s eyes flick back to mine again and I don’t miss the scowl on his face. But when I look at Noah, I see the truth in his expression. He means what he says and his belief in me, someone who isn’t related to me and obligated to support my decisions, fills me with an extra layer of confidence. I don’t think he even realizes how much he soothes my nerves but he does.
Suddenly, I’m glad I came out tonight.
Taps is raucous.
The energy is pulsing, the crowds are swarming, and the drinks are flowing. When we arrive, fans cheer and stand on barstools, hollering out their congratulations and gratitude. Austin and Noah flank me, and while my cousin always looks out for me, it’s Noah who places his hand in the small of my back and shadows my frame, as if worried for my safety.
Austin and Noah stop several times to sign autographs and I don’t miss the shade thrown my way. Women wearing low-cut shirts and more makeup than Sephora carries look at me with expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hatred. A chill works through my veins at the venom in their eyes and I falter back a step, right into the muscled wall of Noah’s chest.
His hand drops to my hip to steady me but after he hands back the hat he signed, it stays there, familiar. Once Austin resumes pushing through the crowd, Noah grasps my hand in his an
d pulls me along, not caring one bit about the attention that our hand-holding garners. In fact, he seems oblivious to all the evil looks of women wearing his number, the sly smiles of random guys, and the double takes of a few members of his team.
We enter the private room at the back that Claire told me the team takes over after every home game. Noah guides me up to the bar and pulls a credit card from his wallet, tapping it against the bar ledge and smirking down at me. “What are you having, Little Indy?”
I smile, remembering how much I hated when Austin, Noah, and Easton called me Little Indy back when I was sixteen and desperate to be taken seriously. Now, it flickers to life as a private joke between us, losing its sting and taking on a whole new definition of sweet. I tap my fingertips against the bar’s ledge, debating.
“I got you,” Noah says after reading the indecision on my face. He gestures to the bartender and a few minutes later, the guy springs into action.
“What did you order?”
“My favorite.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I swear, it’s really good. And, it won’t make you feel sluggish tomorrow.”
I quirk an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
“It’s tequila and sprite.” His arm brushes against my shoulder as he leans down, lowering his voice. “But don’t tell anyone. I pretend it’s this fancy, secret drink I like.”
I chuckle, nodding in agreement. The good news is I like tequila. The bad news is I could get drunk off of Noah’s proximity alone.
Noah slides his card across the bar as the bartender places down two drinks. “Hey Pete. Can I start a tab?”
“You got it, Scotch. Good game tonight.” Pete takes the card and walks down the bar to serve other players.
Noah nudges my drink closer to my hand and picks up his glass. “To your trip, Indy. May your research and publication be wildly successful.” His tone is playful, his expression serious. It’s alluring, how invested he is in my work. Back when I applied to colleges, Jace used to grumble and roll his eyes, wondering why I even needed an education when I would be taking care of his house and children. I cringe just thinking of what an idiot I was to ever see anything charming about Jace Edwards.
I clink my glass against Noah’s. “Congratulations on your big fat W. You were stellar tonight.”
He clutches his chest, his glass hovering in the space between us. “Stellar? My God, Indiana, coming from you that’s quite the compliment.” I grin and his expression softens. “Thank you.” He takes a sip of his drink and I follow suit.
The drink is smooth and refreshing, going down easier than it should.
Claire appears at my side and hip checks me. I hold my drink far over the bar as a little of its contents splash over the side and onto my hand.
“Oops, sorry,” Claire says, flashing me a fake grimace.
Noah grabs some bar napkins and presses them to my wrist as Vanny, Mike, Austin, and Torsten join us at the bar.
“You’re already drinking?” Savannah laughs, pointing at me. “So much for one drink.”
I blush and Torsten cracks a grin, brushing a kiss across my cheek. “Good to see you, sweetheart.”
Claire rolls her eyes. “Such a charmer, Big Daddy,” she teases him since he’s the oldest guy on the team.
Mike laughs as Noah narrows his eyes and Austin pulls his teammate back a few paces. Mike turns to the bartender and gestures to the group. “I’m drinking with the wrong team tonight. Keep ‘em coming,” he jokes, since he was traded from Boston to New York last year. While it was a hard hit, the move turned out to be better for his career. He now sees more playing time and has a bit of distance from so many overwhelming family members as he and Vanny navigate their first few years of marriage.
Savannah snorts and throws her arms around her husband. He kisses the tip of her nose and the fact that they’re so in love, even while juggling their new move, life in a new city, and his hectic schedule is remarkable.
Austin orders a round of shots.
Noah dips his head toward me again. “You don’t have to drink it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And get made fun of by this crowd?” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder to my judgey cousins.
“I’ll take it for you if you’re worried,” he offers.
I turn to look over my shoulder as Claire argues with Austin over something. Torsten has pulled Panda into our little group. As the bartender lines up shot glasses, the swell of bodies pushes toward the bar, and I’m pressed closer into Noah’s frame. His chest shadows my back and when I bump into him, he doesn’t shuffle back but his fingers graze the side of my outer thigh, beckoning me closer.
Jesus, what am I doing?
This is Noah Scotch. He’s one of Austin’s best friends. He was engaged less than a year ago. I’m about to out myself in front of my family and his team. He’s a hockey player.
Apparently, my body doesn’t give a shit about any of the logic running through my mind. I press into him, his warmth and his strength, until he wraps a hand around my hip, his fingertips brushing below my belly button. I shiver and he dips his head again.
I turn to peer up at him and my lips graze the underside of his jaw. Jesus, he’s so close. My body flushes hot and cold at his proximity and some of the noise of Taps falls away as Noah’s smooth jawline and his intense eyes, focused solely on mine, block everything else out.
I clear my throat. “I’ll take the shot.”
He stares at me for a long moment, a heaviness passing between us. Whatever this is, it’s more than just casual. It’s more than it’s supposed to be and we both know it. Because it shouldn’t be anything at all.
“Just one.” His gaze bores into mine.
I nod, the tip of my nose sliding against his chin.
He shifts his weight and tucks me into his frame, as if I belong there. As if we’ve done this dance a million times before and it’s just muscle memory at this point. But my body is like a live wire. Every breath Noah takes, every stroke of his fingers, every rumble of his chest travels through me with the intensity of a category five hurricane. I feel plunged underwater and lifted into the sky and wrapped in fire and ice.
I feel a thrill of anticipation, a desperate expectation, that I’ve never experienced before.
Vanny shoots me a look. Claire bites back her laughter. Mike is oblivious. Austin glares at Noah’s hand where it rests on my stomach. He opens his mouth, but before any words come out, Torsten places a shot glass in his hand and passes one to me, winking.
Torsten holds his glass in the air, turning to stare at the faces of our little huddle by the bar. “To this season!” he shouts.
Additional shouting and cheering rings out as we all raise our glasses and slam our shots.
I barely taste the alcohol.
All I can focus on is the way Noah’s arms feel around me and I don’t ever want them to drop.
16
Noah
“What’s going on with you and Indy?” Torsten asks me an hour later.
I’ve been nursing the same drink since we all took shots at the bar. Claire and Vanny pulled Indy to the bathroom with them and Torsten wasted no time cornering me. I don’t like the glint in his eyes or his tone and I feel my limbs lock down, defensive-like.
“Why are you asking?” I flip my chin at him.
He sighs and runs a hand over the lower portion of his face. “Relax, Romeo. I’m not trying to move in on your girl.”
“She’s not—”
He waves a hand, silencing me. “The girl you’ve got your hands all over to warn everyone else back?”
I shrug because that’s pretty correct. But I hate the thought of any of the guys here trying to ply Indy with drinks, especially when she’s so concerned about her work and her commitment to her students. I hate the thought of any of them flirting with her or putting their hands on her even more.
In fact, since the moment I saw her at the game, the only thing I can think about is having her again.
Tonight. Now. It’s irrational, it’s dangerous, but it doesn’t change a damn thing.
“Look, I’m only asking because Austin looks like he wants to deck you,” Torsten says casually but I note the way his gaze slides down the bar to where Austin is talking with his brother-in-law. “So, whatever the deal is, you need to figure it out. Indy isn’t just some puck bunny.”
I rear back, offended he would even suggest something so ridiculous.
He sighs again and shakes his head. “Damn, Noah. Stop taking everything so personally. I’m looking out for you, man. My point is you need to either back off and stop acting like you’re making a play for Indy’s affections—” He grins, impressed with himself for delivering that message so delicately.
I flip him the middle finger.
Torsten laughs. “Or, you need to know what the hell you’re doing about your attraction for her so when Austin gets in your face, which he will before tonight ends, you have a real answer.”
I frown, shifting my gaze toward Austin. He happens to look up at the same moment and when our eyes meet, he stares at me with an uncertainty I’ve never detected from him before. Shit. Torsten’s right. This whole night, I’ve been so wrapped up in Indy, in her energy and connection, that I’ve dismissed all the looks we’ve been getting.
After things with Courtney went sideways, I decided I’m living my life for me and I don’t give a shit who is or isn’t watching. But maybe Indy doesn’t want all that attention, all that poking into her business. Maybe I’ve unknowingly placed her in a position she doesn’t want to be in.
I’ve done it all by being careless and not having the decency to talk to her first.
But what the hell am I going to say? I’m desperate when I’m around you but I don’t know what that means. Blowing out an exhale, I drain my drink and place it on the bar.
“I should talk to Indy,” I mutter to Torsten who looks surprised by my statement.
He nods once, serious. “Okay.”
“I’m going to find her.” I tip my head toward Austin. “Keep him occupied, will ya?”