Maddie already knew this, of course. She knew all about his injury and the way it had affected our friendship. Still, she played it off like she didn’t know. “Oh my God, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
I watched Noah closely when he turned around. His eyes grew heavy-lidded and he tilted his head back slowly so he looked so nonchalant it bordered on tired. I’d seen this look before, countless times. It was the look he got when he was hitting on girls. It was the look he got when he was putting on that cool guy attitude that made me want to pinch him just to jolt him out of it.
It was the look that said he was full of crap.
I gasped and the soft sound had Noah’s gaze flickering to mine before he looked away to answer Bridget’s question about his physical therapy.
My head was spinning with theories and questions. I’d had my suspicions before but now…now I knew. He wasn’t as broken up as I’d thought about the injury. He was lying about something, or hiding some truth at the very least. My earlier suspicions were confirmed. There was something else going on here.
Bridget started to talk about how she’d been thinking about going into physical therapy when she went to college and I couldn’t take it any longer. I had questions, and I needed answers.
“Will you excuse us?” I said.
Interrupting Bridget mid-speech was unbelievably rude but I couldn’t go one more second without confronting this guy or I’d…I’d…I didn’t know what. I’d lose my mind, maybe? Too late. I’d officially lost my mind because I was currently dragging my coach, my brother’s best friend…I was literally dragging him behind me as I led the way to his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “I’ve got guests and—”
“Why were you such a jerk to me?”
He blinked at the admittedly abrupt line of questioning. “What? When?” He looked back toward the backyard in confusion. “How was I a jerk?”
“Not now,” I bit out, frustration lacing my voice. “Back then.”
He sighed. “I thought we went over this.”
“You didn’t answer me,” I said. “Not really.”
He started backing away toward the bedroom door. “Look, I said I was sorry, all right. It was a tough time and—”
“You’re lying.”
He stopped. He’d turned toward the door but I could see his profile. I watched his jaw clench and his hand freeze in midair before he dropped it and turned to face me. “Excuse me?”
I straightened, clenching my hands at my side. “I’d just assumed this whole time that I knew why you were such a jerk to me when you came home after the accident.”
He was studying my face but his own gave nothing away.
I felt like I was standing on a ledge, one foot away from falling off a cliff. I was entering into the unknown and it was terrifying. I was taking a chance, but I didn’t know on what. Everything I thought I knew was a jumble and there was so much I still didn’t know—about him, about me, about whatever this was between us.
I licked my lips and watched his gaze drop to my mouth. He missed nothing. He knew me too well.
But you know what? I knew him just as well and I wasn’t about to let this slide.
“You weren’t as broken up about the injury as I’d thought,” I said, nerves making the words hard to get out.
What if I was wrong?
But a muscle in his jaw twitched and that urged me on.
“Were you?” I said.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I…I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try,” I said. Try for the sake of our friendship. Try so we can stop this weirdness between us once and for all.
Maybe my mental urging worked because he cleared his throat and his gaze met mine. “I was crushed when I first learned I couldn’t play, but…” He swallowed and glanced away for a second before pinning me in place with that intense stare. “But I was also relieved.”
I blinked at him, confusion making me squint at him like maybe that would help me understand. “Relieved how?”
He gave a helpless shrug. “I told you it’s hard to explain. I guess…” He thrust a hand through his hair and looked up to the ceiling. “It felt like the blinders had been pulled off. Like, for all these years I’d been so focused on that one thing. On getting the scholarship, on being the best…I never thought to look anywhere else.” His gaze dropped until he met mine once more. “I never saw what was right in front of my face.”
The way he was looking at me…it was hard to breathe. My throat felt tight and my mouth was dry. He looked like he was trying to tell me something with his eyes alone, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest in response.
“W-what did you see?” My voice was nearly a whisper but without realizing it I’d moved closer, or maybe he had. I wasn’t sure who’d moved toward whom, but we were only inches apart and there seemed to be a force field between us tugging us closer still.
He let out a long exhale. “For the first time in my life I felt like I could do anything. I could start over and be someone new.” He threw his hands up in frustration as he searched for words. “I’d been going down that one path so single-mindedly for so long that it never occurred to me that maybe there was more to life. That maybe playing baseball wasn’t making me happy anymore. That maybe there were other things out there, other people, that could make me happy.”
“You were…happy about it?” My tone was filled with disbelief.
He shrugged. “Not entirely. I mean, I wasn’t happy to have my chosen career taken away from me like that. But at the same time, I felt like my eyes were opened. It’s hard to explain but…” He let out a sigh of exasperation. “For a little while there I thought maybe things would change for the better. I thought maybe I could start over.”
I stared hard at him. His tone had changed as he spoke. For a little while there… He sounded like he was mocking himself for ever thinking he could start over, that he could change. There was a hint of sadness there—maybe even bitterness. And that was so not in his nature.
“And now?” I asked. Because it was obvious he didn’t feel that way anymore, the cynical tone said that loud and clear. His gaze met mine and my heart squeezed in response.
“I eventually realized that it’s not that easy. Just because I felt like I could start over didn’t automatically erase who I’ve been.” He shook his head as if frustrated by trying to put this into words. “Being injured doesn’t change who I am, Callie, just what my options are.”
I watched him, trying to understand what he was saying and everything he hadn’t said out loud. There was a world of meaning in his silence, and there was no ignoring the frustration and bitterness that clouded his features.
My heart ached on his behalf. Right this moment, he was my friend and he was so much more. He was the one person who got me, who accepted me fully and completely. And I wanted to give him the same. I wanted Noah to see himself through my eyes.
“I don’t think that’s true,” I said quietly. “I think you could change if you wanted to.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“I think you already have changed. I mean, how could you not when circumstances forced you to rethink everything you thought you knew about your life and your future?”
He was looking at me so intently, like he was willing me to understand something but I felt like I was missing a piece of the puzzle. This—whatever this pull was between us—I wanted to give in to it. I wanted… I wanted to kiss him.
The realization was so shocking it had me stumbling back a few steps as if a little more air between us might help clear my head. It didn’t work.
“Maybe I have changed,” he said with a shrug. “Or maybe I could. But it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Not enough for what? I still don’t understand,” I said. Desperation and panic nagged at me. I felt like I was missing something. I had this gut feeling that there was something more here but I was too afraid to leap to conclus
ions. A little part of me was afraid to hope and be wrong, but at the same time I could feel him pulling away, I could feel the moment slipping out of my reach. “What did that have to do with me? Why did you take it out on me?”
His expression turned pained. “I’m sorry, I really am.” He looked away and then back. It was a subtle aversion of the eyes but it was enough to let me know that he was still not being totally honest with me. “I’m so sorry I was a jerk. You didn’t deserve that.”
I found myself staring at the faded gray T-shirt. My eyes were locked on his chest and now I was the one who couldn’t bring myself to look up and meet his gaze. This was the apology I’d wanted, the explanation I’d needed so that we could go back to being friends.
Because that’s what I wanted, right?
He came toward me and I held my breath for a moment as his hands lightly gripped my arms, urging me to look up at him.
“I’m sorry, Cal,” he said again.
I nodded but my throat was too tight for words. Something was off. This didn’t feel right. I didn’t know what I wanted to hear, but an apology wasn’t it. Nothing felt resolved.
He apologized, things should go back to normal. I should be able to hug him and he’d tousle my hair.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“That kiss…” The words just came out of me. As if maybe that brief kiss was what stood between us. It had opened a door that couldn’t be shut. I didn’t know what I wanted him to say, and I think a big part of me knew exactly what he would say at the reminder of that kiss.
“Was a mistake,” he finished.
The words landed like a blow. I knew that was what he’d say, but somehow it didn’t make it any easier to hear. I was still staring at his chest, trying to focus on anything that might make my heart stop racing, but all I was aware of was the sound of his breathing, the scent of his soap that seemed to fill my senses, the way his hands were so warm and strong on my arms.
I wanted to lean into him.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to close the distance between us so badly my whole body ached.
What was happening here? I’d wanted to be friends again, and that was what he was offering. So why now did that not feel like enough anymore?
Because it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.
But it was all he would give.
As if to prove me right, he sighed loudly and leaned forward to place a quick, platonic kiss on the top of my head. “You’re Eric’s little sister, and I love you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I love you too.”
And I meant it. I did love Noah. I always had.
I loved him like a friend.
Right?
I watched him walk out, back to the safety of our teammates, and as he disappeared out of sight, I had to face facts. I’d done the unthinkable, the one thing I’d always said I wouldn’t do.
I’d gone and fallen for my brother’s best friend.
Chapter Eight
Noah
Here’s the thing about trying to be a better man—it sucked big time.
These were the noble thoughts going through my mind as I lay on our couch in the living room, trying desperately not to think about the fact that Callie was currently lying in my bed.
Naked.
No, probably not naked. I tossed and turned on the couch as I drove that thought straight out of my head. She was absolutely not naked, that was just my overactive imagination torturing me like it had been doing for hours.
I’d done what I’d had to do. I’d put Callie at arm’s length. It hurt. It was the emotional equivalent of cutting out my own heart. She’d been looking up at me with those big, trusting eyes. Her gaze was pleading, her lips beckoning, her body calling to me.
But I’d done it. I’d been the bigger man. I’d put her away from me to avoid temptation, and so we could go back to being friends.
I guess I’d thought that once I’d done the hard part—once I’d lied and all but told her she was like a sister to me—it would get easier.
It did not.
It got worse. Because now there was no escape. Callie was living in my home. She’d offered to sleep on the couch; she’d insisted on it, actually. But I hadn’t been able to stomach the thought. I’d known right away that I couldn’t stand that kind of torture. I’d be lying there awake just like I was right now but unlike now I’d be able to come up with stupid reasons to come out of my room. I might have to use the bathroom, or maybe go rummaging for a midnight snack. There were a million ways I could have been tempted to come out here and check on her.
Oh sure, my intentions might have been good. Just make sure she was comfortable, maybe see if she needed another pillow. But in the dark of night with the intimacy that came with skimpy pajamas and hushed voices…it would be too easy to give in to temptation.
Denying the urge to pull her close and kiss her senseless had nearly killed me earlier tonight, and I didn’t know if I could resist a second time.
So I put myself as far out of temptation’s reach as I could manage while still sharing a house with Callie. I insisted on the couch. There was no reason for me to go into my room. I couldn’t even think of an excuse, which saved my willpower an epic battle or two. Besides, it had made sense that I sleep out here. We both knew that I was the night owl, way more likely to stay up watching TV than Callie with her early bird, goody-two-shoes tendencies.
So there I was. Uncomfortably sprawled on an overstuffed couch while trying valiantly not to think about the girl in my bed, probably sound asleep and none the wiser.
My door creaked open down the hall.
Or not.
I sat up on the couch just as she padded into the living room, which was only lit by the digital lights from the TV stand and some moonlight coming in through the windows. But despite the dim lighting—or maybe because of it—I could still see that she looked like a goddess. Her hair looked radiant and her eyes luminous. For a second I wondered if I was dreaming.
This, I decided, would be the best dream I’d ever had.
But then she fidgeted, rubbing one sock-clad foot against the other calf as she twisted her hands together. While the oversized T-shirt that fell to her knees was sexy as hell, the faded mascot from our high school was a bit too realistic for a dream.
I gave my head a little shake. “Cal? Are you okay?”
It was like she’d been waiting for my voice, because the moment I started speaking she headed toward me, curling up on the couch beside me with her legs tucked underneath her body and the T-shirt pulled down taut so it covered her knees. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t,” I said. “I’ve been up.” Thinking about you.
“Oh. Okay.” She nodded. “Good.”
“Good.” I gave her a little smile. “Can’t sleep?”
She met my gaze and she wasn’t smiling. Not at all. “I don’t want things to be weird between us, Noah.”
I couldn’t look away if I’d tried. “Me neither, Callie. And they won’t be. We won’t let it.”
It was a big promise, and I knew I hadn’t answered any of the questions that plagued her, but I willed her not to bring it up again. Don’t ask me why I’ve been acting so crazy around you, don’t make me say it aloud. Because if I did—no, once I did—nothing would be the same. Any chance of us going back to how it used to be would be lost. Nothing would ever be the same if she knew that I loved her—not like Eric’s little sister, and not like a friend.
I loved her with everything I was. I loved her body, mind, and soul.
I was so freakin’ head over heels in love that it was torture to be this close and not touch her. I loved her so much that I knew the moment she decided to believe me. To trust me. And that was the moment that my heart twisted in my chest, because I wasn’t worthy of this kind of trust. I never had been and I doubted I ever would be.
But Callie never did anything halfway. So when she met my eyes again,
she gave me a small smile. “Okay,” she said.
“Okay.” I repeated it like an oath. A vow.
As God as my witness I would not allow this friendship to be ruined by awkwardness. I reached out and squeezed her hand, trying not to notice the way her knees brushed against my thighs as she shifted on the couch. Hating myself for noticing the way she smelled, all fresh from the shower, and how her T-shirt had slipped down one shoulder to reveal creamy skin that glowed iridescent in the moonlight.
My eyes sought out the sight of her lips, and my breathing grew ragged. I dragged my gaze away, back up to meet hers. But that was my fatal downfall, because her gaze had grown heavy, her eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.
Her gaze was on my mouth. My lips. And I just knew she was thinking about that kiss.
It took every ounce of will I had not to reach for her, not to crush my lips to hers and show her just how much she meant to me.
I swallowed down the thick desire but my voice still came out husky and raw. “Goodnight, Callie.”
She blinked a few times as if coming out of a daze and when her eyes met mine, I knew. I just knew. She wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her. “Goodnight, Noah.”
I watched her pad back to my room as I fell back onto the couch to lie there some more. Sleep would be a long time coming tonight. But I’d made a promise and I meant to stick to it.
I might care for her as more than a friend, but I could act like nothing had changed.
I’d promised. I wouldn’t let things be awkward between us.
I had the best of intentions, I really did. And I knew that Callie did too. But all good intentions aside, our best efforts still failed. Miserably. To say that things were awkward between us was an understatement.
“Nice work out there, Callie!” I called.
Callie gave me a little salute as she ran off the field. I found myself watching her even when she passed me, dropping down onto the bench beside her friend Maddie.
“Careful there, coach,” Avery said. I hadn’t seen her approach and I had no idea how long she’d been standing there.
The Perfect Catch (Kissing the Enemy Book 1) Page 10