The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,24
tickle of his breath on the back of my neck, how his abs rippled—yes, rippled—when he pushed inside of me.
My face heats at the reminder and I hold up a hand. “It’s cool, Noah.”
He shakes his head. “We can’t just pretend it never happened.”
“Why?” I blurt out, smacking a hand over my mouth.
Noah chuckles but I don’t miss the way his eyes narrow and his jawline tightens. “Because, Little Indy, you’re not just some chick I’ll never see again. I care about your family and I care about you and I don’t want things to be weird.”
I shake my head. “They won’t be. Look, wasn’t today nice? This, it’s fun.”
He groans, running a hand along the edge of his jaw. It could cut freaking steel and I zero in on the movement. “That’s another part of the problem.”
“What is?” What are we even talking about? Maybe Claire was right. Noah is distracting.
“I like hanging out with you.”
I beam. Like shoot rainbows and unicorns from eyes type of beaming. “You do?”
His brow furrows and he nods.
My beaming intensifies, as much as it’s possible. “I like hanging with you too. To be honest, you’re the first guy in a long time I feel normal around. Not counting my best friend from home.”
“Normal?”
“Yeah. Like I can be my nerdy, type A self around.”
He snorts. “You’re not nerdy, Indy.”
“You don’t know me that well, then.”
“You’re the fucking cutest.” He chuckles, his expression softening. “Everyone should have some of your sunshine in their lives.”
I freeze at the sincerity in his tone even as my mind trips over itself in glee at his words. Everyone should have some of your sunshine in their lives. Jesus. What kind of man says things like that to a woman after one night together?
Noah swallows, shaking his head in amusement. “I was thinking…”
I raise an eyebrow, my heart rate ticking up.
“Since we like hanging together and we have such an easy connection, what if we…were friends.”
“Just friends?” I ask, disappointment streaking through me. That’s the scary thing. How am I disappointed about being friends with this beautiful man when I should be grateful? Or even relieved?
Noah nods. “Can’t give you any more of a commitment than that, Indy. I’m not the serious commitment, marrying, a houseful of babies kind of guy. Not anymore. Hell, I’m not even the dog kind of guy. The most long-term commitment I’ve had is to my goldfish Dorothy.”
I crack a smile, knowing he’s trying to be upfront with me. Honest. Still, his words sting and scrape even though they’re what I should want to hear. They’re the rational option. “I get it. It’s better this way. I don’t date—”
“Hockey players,” he finishes, biting his lip.
“Right,” I agree.
“So no awkwardness.”
“None at all.”
“We can hang out?”
“Anytime,” I quip, way more casual than I feel.
“Cool.”
I grin but my chest sinks a little and I’m not sure what to make of that.
10
Noah
Eating lunch with Indy is fun. It’s not awkward, even though I saw her naked just last weekend. If anything, it’s nice. Chill. The most fun I’ve had sharing a meal with a woman in a long time.
It seems most things with Indy are effortless and casual and lacking the expectations usually associated with my interactions with females. After a tough few days, her presence is soothing.
“You live around here?” I ask as I settle the bill. Indy tries one more time to slip money across the table at me but I ignore it, shaking my head as I sign the credit card slip.
“Just around the corner,” she says, tucking her folded notes back into her purse. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Thanks for eating with me. If you weren’t here, I would have ended up eating alone.” I give her my best sad puppy-dog eyes and she snorts.
“Yeah for like three seconds until any of your admiring fans ambushed you.”
I chuckle, glancing around and noting several extra-long glances in our direction. “Well, if you’re just around the corner, I can help you carry some of these takeout boxes home.”
“What? I can’t take all these,” she says, her eyes wide as they take in the five boxes.
It’s typical of Torsten to order half the menu but he usually sticks around to inhale it all. Something is going on with him and by the hints he dropped about his visa on the way here, I’m more than concerned.
“Of course you can. You’ll be organizing this big student trip all week and need breaks to eat.”