by Nikki Winter
“I’m a hungry man goddammit and I won’t feel ashamed because of this.” He shot Noel a questioning look. “What’re you doing back here in the workers’ quarters anyway?”
“Stop calling it that and I’m looking for Alana.”
“Ahh, of course. Always in search of the legs.”
“I happen to like the rest of what’s attached to her also; I like it a lot.”
Ashleigh’s eyes glinted. “Oh?”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m always accused of starting things and yet, I stand here with the simple desire to eat.”
“When you weigh as much as a Buick, that isn’t a simple desire, it’s an assignment for a task force created to handle lawlessness.”
“You’re changing the subject,”—Ashleigh wagged a finger at him—“because you know that I know this one is different.”
“Is she?”
His friend nodded with assurance. “You said you were done with assistants, secretaries, personal trainers, chefs, aspiring dancers—”
“I get the point,” Noel gritted.
“But here you are, nostrils to the sky and wide open.”
“Do I need to point out the irony in that statement? Do I need to help you reflect on your own sentimental afflictions?”
“Not unless you want me to hit ’yah,” Ashleigh retorted, his accent clawing its way past the typical indifference in his voice. “Do you want me to hit ’yah?”
Noel fought not to chuckle. He started to say something else when a door swung open behind Ashleigh and a figure poured out, gold sequins glittering under the hall lights as they tried to discreetly slip by. Impossible. Some people just couldn’t go without being noticed. Alana Stafford was undoubtedly one of them.
“Sugar?”
Her head snapped around and disappointment stole her features before she successfully masked it. “Hi.”
Staring for a moment, he watched the uncomfortable shift of her feet and the twisting of her fingers. “Ash?”
“Yeah?”
“Give me a minute?”
“Already gone,” his friend retorted. The other man made himself scarce without another word.
Noel walked forward until he could see every stray hair escaping Alana’s bun. He didn’t touch her, just drank her in. “Wanna tell me what’s bothering you?”
She shook her head and he watched the lie form in her gaze before it left her pretty, nude glossed mouth. “I’m fine.”
He waited a beat.
“Actually no,” Alana suddenly announced afterwards, resting against the wall behind her. “I’m not fine. I’m not. Fine. At. All.”
“And why is that?” Noel queried softly and placed a palm above her shoulder.
“Because I can’t control you,” came her sotto answer. “I can control everything else in my life except for you and that unsettles me more than I want to admit. It makes me twist. It makes me forget that I like predictable behavior and I love disappointment. Because disappointment is faithful for me, it has been for twenty odd years now. I’ve become accustomed to that clutch. I’ve become accustomed to disposable relationships. I know who to be in those. I know how to behave. I know not to invest. I know to function inattentively. Those are things I know. But this,”—she waved her hand between the two of them—“this is foreign and it’s utterly terrifying. I can’t classify your behaviors and come away with deductive reasoning that leaves me with an answer as to where things between us will lead.” Her finger nudged him. “You’re not predictable. You are immovable no matter how hard I shove and when you finally do decide to amble in a direction I never know where it will be!” She stopped, closed her eyes and inhaled. “I’m drowning. I’m drowning because I‘ve adjusted everything for you in such a short amount of time and that is not me; that is not Alana.”
Silence reigned for several long minutes and then Noel asked, “Are you running from me?”
Her head dropped forward. “This isn’t black and white, Noel. I don’t trust myself. I can’t not trust myself.”
He’d heard that before. “Are you running from me?”
Alana’s sigh was heavy. “What do you want me to say? How do you want me to answer that?”
“Quite simply,” he retorted. “A yes or a no will work fine. I don’t need much. I’m not requesting a thesis statement. I don’t even need to know what it was you and Russell discussed that has you so shaken you can’t even hold my eyes. So, I’ll ask you again, are. You. Running. From. Me?”
A muscle in her jaw jumped and he could practically hear the grinding of her teeth. “Yes,” she hissed. “Fuck. Yes. I’m running from you.”
Noel nodded, stepped forward until she was completely trapped between both him and the wall. He curved his free hand around the back of her throat, rubbing his thumb easily beneath her ear in small soothing circles. “We both know I could make you want to stay. I could be as…immovable as you say I am. I could make you face me. But that struggle—this struggle—wouldn’t vanish. A day from now, a week from now, or a month from now it would rear again and we’d find ourselves in this limbo. We’d dance around the problem, too afraid to touch it. But I’ve never been a pussyfooter, sugar so I’ll allow you space. I’ll give you time. I’ll watch you run. And I won’t step into your pathway even once.” He smoothed his lips over the line between her brows and moved away, fighting himself, fighting the brute.
Alana’s lids parted and she stared at him through the fan of her lashes.
Deciding that he wouldn’t reply to the question residing there, Noel instead nodded down the hall. “Run now, darlin’. Run as far as you want.”
Her chest heaved and then all at once, she withdrew into herself. “I’m sorry.”
Noel balled a fist and thumped his thigh. “Run.”
She stood there for a second longer.
He brought that fist against the wall behind him with a snap that made her jump. “Run.”
Alana did. She ran. She ran without a backwards glance and just as he’d said, Noel didn’t make a move to stop it. However, it seemed that she‘d forgotten a promise made. Unbeknownst to her, he fully intended to keep it.
Twelve
She was a coward. She was an insane, ridiculous coward. But he’d told her to run. He’d told her to run as far and as long as she pleased. Alan couldn’t ignore that demand, couldn’t ignore the itch to get as far away from him as possible because she was horrified that he’d disturbed her obsessive need for order. It was a direct result of having no ability to manipulate her every day life for so long. Eventually when her own decision making had finally come into play, she’d allowed herself to be swept into someone else who maneuvered her life for his liking. It wasn’t hard to place all of the blame on herself, to remind herself constantly that she should’ve seen through it, that she should’ve been smarter. It wasn’t hard to listen to that small voice that told her it couldn’t happen again, that she couldn’t be that way again; blinded by emotion and willing to reshape everything in her life for one man.
And immediately she’d done that with Noel. She’d lingered despite her best efforts not to. She’d day dreamed in the midst of meetings. She’d rushed home from work. She’d driven to see him during training camp just because it had been such a hard adjustment to go without him for days on end. Alana had been that way again and that way had tangled her life so badly before that she’d broken apart from it in an effort to escape a seemingly unhealthy attachment. But now she wondered how unhealthy it was to try and forget a man that had been exasperating in his humorous, ridiculous, brutish but typically gentle nature.
If she left, she’d miss him—she’d really fucking miss him—and pride wouldn’t allow her to admit it. Well pride and a large dose of fear. Her rules had been broken for him. She’d been affected. Somehow Noel had slipped through the cracks and rather than catching him and removing him immediately, Alana had allowed him to remain. Which meant she could point the finger at no one but herself. Control ha
d been abandoned. Something she’d always deemed to be one of her best qualities.
She wasn’t scattered or sporadic. It was a purposeful choice because of her childhood and adulthood experiences with both her parents and Lucas. Careful steps had taught Alana that she should enter every situation with her eyes wide open and ready to spot the other shoe. She’d forgotten all of this with Noel and came to cling to her instinct to disappear. And he’d let her; had even encouraged it. Distraught was as good of a word as any to describe her at the moment.
Alana stopped mid-step through the hall and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Run, he’d told her. He wouldn’t step in her pathway even once, he’d said. But there he stood, watching; the same way kittens watched mice. They hovered close enough for their prey to feel their presence; completely aware they controlled the fate of that smaller animal. They didn’t rush the kill or move too quickly because…because they wanted the mouse to run.
She fully turned to face him. Noel wanted her to run.
“You deviate—you run—and I swear to God I’ll use everything in my arsenal to find you, Alana. And when I do, I’ll fuck you where I find you and short of there being impressionable minds around or the law being phoned, nothing will stop me. We clear?”
That promise hadn’t been forgotten. The words were always there, dancing. Because she’d always wondered how sincere they were. She’d always questioned if he’d truly follow through with that vow. And now Alana knew. She knew that if she ran it would take minutes, hours or even days but he would come for her. He’d come because their need for one another was utterly unshakable. Not even her fear could displace it.
Noel’s head tilted, his eyes slitting. His hands loosened and then he smiled. It was the smile that unsettled her. The curve of his lips told Alana that he knew that she knew what he was doing; that he was pushing her to run so he could give chase. And suddenly, she didn’t want to run out of some twisted sense of obligation to her rules. Suddenly, she wanted to run so she could be caught. So he could catch her. Cowardice didn’t seem so comforting anymore. It simply felt…pointless. Every second of fighting him felt like a robotic motion she’d become so used to perpetuating that she didn’t know how to unplug and just…be. Fear had bridged a road for so long that she hadn’t wanted to veer off and upset a balance that wasn’t truly balanced at all. Was she running because she wanted to protect herself or was she running because she’d normalized the behavior?
His first step in her direction, the resounding thud of her heartbeat, gave her an answer. Alana hadn’t wanted him too close because he’d scrambled her expectations. He’d made her expect more. Noel had made her want to demand more. And she’d thought that doing so would find her disheartened down the line. But he wouldn’t disappoint her. Never purposely. He’d done all that he could to demonstrate that without using beguiling words and expensive trinkets. He wouldn’t throw her life into an upheaval for his own needs and he’d never play with her career goals. Noel wasn’t that man and Alana…Alana had to let go of being that woman; the one with the tutted chest and sharp tongue who always fell back on humor and sarcasm to guard herself. She didn’t need that security blanket anymore. Not when she had him. Not when he was so ready and so willing to keep coming after her through all her frustrating actions. Not when she loved him…
Another step in her direction sounded off along with the drop of her gut. Fuck. He’d made her love him. Annoying! It was still horribly annoying! Him and his country anecdotes and his stories of chasing frogs at the creek. Him and his tear inducing tales of fifteen-year-old Noel who’d caught his parents bare assed and using one of his old football helmets for sinful acts. Goddammit, now she was in it forever and it was all of his fault!
“Sugar?” Noel called, walking closer.
Alana pushed her shoulders back. “Yeah?”
“Thought you were running.”
It was a challenge. The glint in his eyes, the relaxed saunter and his wolfish smile, were all a challenge. One that she chose to accept. Alana turned on her heel again and took off down the winding hallway that seemed to almost be a hidden tunnel for those who had intimate knowledge of Noel’s second home. It was more like a museum if she were being honest and that made what she intended to do all the easier.
His laughter hummed behind her, dark and low beneath the sound of the ongoing party. She picked up the pace, careful to remember that she wasn’t wearing Nikes. A sharp turn to her left led her past an expanse of bay windows overlooking a far reaching yard and a marina. Alana briefly wondered if Noel had ever considered getting a boat before she focused on getting as far ahead of him as she could.
Another corner turn and she hit an immovable male chest. Calloused hands caught and held her beneath the arms and she looked up in defeat. He’d caught her before she truly had the time to torment him. There must have been another avenue around and of course he’d taken it.
Noel angled over her. The swift jerk of his arms brought Alana forward and his whispered words against her temple made a ball of fire ignite between her legs. “Oh darlin’. It looks like I’ve caught you. One has to ask himself, exactly what will I do with you now?”
“You lied,” Alana said softly. “You said you wouldn’t step in my pathway.”
His heavy lidded gaze roved her face. “The rules changed.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer, just walked forward until she hit a wall.
“Noel?”
His hands caught the hem of her dress and shoved it upwards. “Hmm?”
“Why did the rules change?”
“You wanted me to follow,” he murmured. “You wanted me to give you what I promised. Because of that, the rules changed. I told you to run and you did, just so I could catch you and fuck you. You’re here in my home when you could have left, you could have hid from me. But you don’t really want to, do you?” Noel shook his head and answered the question himself. “No. You don’t really want to run and hide from me. You want to test me. You want to push until I lose restraint because that’s what you appreciate. You stood with me chest to chest and told me that I scare you because you like your control, you like being able to manipulate. But that’s a lie, sugar. That’s not what you crave. That’s not what makes your skin tighten or your eyes glaze. What you want—what you need—is a reminder of why its okay to be irredeemably lawless with me.”
He hooked a hand beneath her left knee and lifted it, looking away from her and towards the apex of her legs. “You fight me because it makes the surrender so much sweeter. It’s an unconscious behavior that you’ve become so accustomed to you don’t even know when you’re doing it. And yet, you stopped. You stopped and you looked at me with all the realization in the world, didn’t you? That this is irresistible. It struck you during your grand escape that there’s no getting away from it. There never has been and there never will be.” He looked up then, catching her eyes. Noel’s words were a rumbling bass of need when he commanded, “Now take off your panties and give them to me.”
She’d surprised him. But would she ever cease in doing so? Probably not. Alana had been a puzzle from the second they were made to shake hands and announce their names. Every piece that fell into place never failed to entertain and delight him. She’d done it again when she’d chosen to finally give him that last corner. Noel hadn’t expected to receive it so soon. Sure, he’d had every intention of going after her, wanting to make it clear that there would be no separation from this. There couldn’t be. As he’d told her before, sometimes a body just wanted what it wanted and he wanted her. No substitution would do.
His home was drenched with her. The smell of her perfume still clung desperately to his furniture, his sheets. Alone, he would still be able to hear her snort as she sat at the kitchen counter and once again pointed out how bad of an idea it was to make bacon naked. He could still see her press her palms to either side of his sink as he kneaded his thumbs into her lower back after a run. But his bed would be the worst w
ithout her… It was the place that would torment him the most because the right side would be empty, cold. He couldn’t have that.
However, he’d been willing to stand back and wait; to make her face that they would be undeniably, abhorrently miserable without one another. Some things were inherent to a relationship and the realization that he could tolerate no one else in his space aside from her was one of them. It didn’t take a scientist versed in astrophysics to determine why. As she’d turned away from him, the punch to his solar plexus was all he needed to come to a jolting revelation. He was in love with one of the most contrary and difficult women he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. That should have rattled him. The thought of latching himself to one person for any amount of time should have certainly turned him into a pillar of salt where he stood but, it hadn’t. Because if he had to be all in with someone, he had the benefit of knowing that the person was—for lack of a better term—perfect. Alana was perfect for him.
She listened to his aimless ramblings about his childhood, warmth in her expression where he would have seen exasperation with anyone else. She’d taken the time to develop a very strange and very insulting relationship with Ashleigh that always ended with her telling him that his size was disconcerting. And most of all…she understood football. There was no walking away from a woman who understood football. One simply didn’t do that.
Alana placed a hand on his forearm. “You still have hold of my leg, Noel.”
He released it and stared on as she lowered it to the floor, her heel clicking once. Without looking away, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of the skimpy fabric he’d requested that she take off, and tugged. They slid to her ankles and she went through the motions of untangling them from one and then the other. Alana bypassed his hand and instead reached towards his pocket, slipping her hand inside of his trousers and stuffing them deep. Upon withdrawal, she ran her fingertips across his erection, no coyness in her touch. Latching onto his belt, she yanked him forward and he slapped his hands against the wall to hold his balance.