The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,11

mine. He made an impressive case for why his future was so much brighter than anything I would accomplish, and at some point, I started to believe him. I began to make myself smaller so that he could feel bigger. By the time he publicly cheated on me with a girl that should grace the cover of a magazine, my self-confidence was shattered. I spent the past two years trying to make myself even more invisible and sticking to the only thing I’m good at: school.

The reminder makes my stomach twist and the club to spin around me, colors and sounds blurring together. I grip the underside of the bar to keep from sliding off the barstool and feel the heat of Noah’s body as he steps up behind me.

Torsten is chuckling at whatever Panda is saying so when Noah’s palm rests in the center of my back and he dips down, whispering, “You okay?” in my ear, no one notices.

Goosebumps travel over my skin as his breath skates over the shell of my ear. I turn my head until his lips nearly brush my cheek.

“Indy? You doing okay?” he repeats, his mouth so close to my skin that the wildly irrational thought of turning into his touch crosses my mind.

I nod, feeling Noah’s hand slide up my back, under the curtain of my hair, until his fingers are cradling my head. He turns my face to his, his eyes like two pools of black. They flicker with worry and flare with heat. Such contradicting emotions and yet, both send a thrill throughout my body.

“Are you ready to head out?” he asks, his fingertips brushing along my scalp, his hand traveling from my head to the side of my face, cupping my cheek. My eyes flutter closed, and this time, I can’t stop myself from leaning into his touch.

He swipes his thumb along my cheekbone and I force my eyes to open. “Okay,” I say.

A soft smile plays over his lips. “Okay, babe. Let’s say good night.”

Babe. It drops from his lips so casually, he must say it to hundreds of women. Thousands. But the look in his eyes when he said it to me was anything but casual and I latch onto that instead.

We say good night with Torsten kissing my cheek and Panda giving me a big hug. They both give Noah extra-long glances but he ignores them, focused on guiding me out of the roped-off section, down the winding staircase, and out the back entrance of Firefly.

“You called a car?” I ask, surprised that a driver is already waiting for us.

Noah shrugs. “I always keep a driver on standby for nights like these. Something is bound to go sideways.” He holds open the back door and ushers me inside.

I slide all the way across the bench even though I expect him to take the passenger seat. Surprise and excitement lick low in my stomach when Noah climbs in beside me and closes the door. With his too big frame folded up in the small space, our knees touch. I place my palm down in the space between our thighs, and as the driver pulls out of the parking lot, Noah’s large hand covers mine.

“You have fun tonight?” he asks, his gaze curious.

“I really did.” I’m grateful for the delicious buzz still swirling in my bloodstream because otherwise this—being alone and so close to Noah Scotch—would fill me with nerves instead of anticipation.

“Where to, Scotch?” the driver calls over his shoulder.

Noah looks at me. “What’s your address, Indy?”

I rattle it off and the driver nods, turning up the song he’s listening to. But a moment later he swears.

“There’s an accident on Devonshire and Congress. Tremont and Blossom are at a standstill.” He gazes at us in the rearview mirror. “Up to a fifty-minute delay. What do you want to do?”

I freeze, my limbs locking down as I process this news. Are we going to sit in traffic? Is Noah going to offer me to come to his place? The idea excites me and I sit perfectly still, waiting for Noah to say something.

“We can wait it out if you want, Indy. But I vote that you come back to my place and we crash.” He glances at his watch. “It’s already after two.”

The thrill in my stomach flares up into my chest and down into my legs. I clear my throat. “That’s fine.”

Noah informs the driver of our decision. As he speaks, his hand closes over mine, holding