The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,29
long pull. “And now, only hockey really. It’s the only thing I feel like I can commit myself to and not be disappointed. We’re going all the way this season; I won’t settle for anything less. Besides, when East gets out of rehab, he’ll be coming home. I need to make sure he has something to look forward to, something to work toward. I won’t let him down again.”
I bite my lower lip, understanding all the words he’s not saying. Like how hockey is his lifeline. How he’s scared for his brother and for the team. How he feels like things are spiraling out of his control and if he can just manage his performance on the ice, if he can just play his best, he’ll still have hockey. “I get it,” I say softly.
“Do you?” he asks, his face severe but his tone quiet.
I nod. “I do. Hockey has never let you down.”
“No,” he agrees. “Not yet at least.”
I pick up my pint glass and hold it up to him. “To your best season yet.”
His eyes sweep over my face as he clinks his glass against mine. “Cheers at Cheers, Indy.”
I snort. “Who’s being a nerd now?”
Noah laughs and takes a swig of his beer.
Our conversation transitions to lighter topics and I find myself enjoying his company, excited to learn more about him, happy to just be in this moment, without worrying what comes next.
12
Noah
“Thank you for today, Little Indy,” I say as we stop in front of my brownstone.
“Anytime, Noah. Thanks for being a good sport.”
I chuckle, tipping my head to the front door. My hands are stuffed in my pockets as the breeze picks up, and as much as I want to stay and chat with Indy, I don’t want us to freeze while we do it. “Want to come in?”
She hesitates and a ripple of dejection swims in my stomach, which is ridiculous because we just spent the entire day together.
Before I can tell her not to sweat it she dips her head and says, “Okay.”
“I’ve got coffee,” I joke, knowing caffeine is her weakness.
She laughs and follows me into my house, tossing her purse down on the kitchen island. “I’ll never say no to a coffee.”
“I’ll remember that.” I pop a pod into the Nespresso machine and turn, bracing my elbows on the kitchen island.
Indy slides onto a barstool and grins at me. “I had fun today.”
“Me too,” I agree. “Being with you is…easy. Not complicated.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah.” I wonder why she would think it isn’t a good thing.
She shrugs. “You looked annoyed when you said it.”
I shake my head even though she’s probably right. It’s strange to me, how I can hang with a woman and have it be so natural. Without the usual expectations and pressures that hang around me like a noose with most of my interactions with women. Even with Courtney, I felt like I was walking on eggshells sometimes. “Milk or cream?” I ask, picking up her coffee mug.
“Cream please.”
I fix her coffee and place it down in front of her.
“You excited for the season opener?” She takes a sip of coffee and groans appreciatively. I feel that groan everywhere. Her eyes flutter closed and a small, satisfied smile crosses her mouth and my hands clench into fists.
Things may be easy with Indy Merrick but they can’t be this casual.
My hands yearn to reach out and glide over her smooth skin. My mouth waters at the thought of getting another taste of her. Jesus, how is she this tempting sitting in my kitchen on a Sunday drinking coffee? Why can’t I shake my hunger for her?
“Noah?” she asks, peering at me in concern.
I clear my throat. What the fuck were we talking about? The game. “Yeah, yeah, I’m excited for it.”
Her eyebrows dip down over her nose. “You okay?”
I sigh, raking a hand over my head. Do I tell her? Just lay it all out? Why the fuck not? I’ve never been known to mince words before. “I lied to you.”
She rears back like I startled her and I curse myself for being such an idiot. “About what?”
“I don’t want to be just friends, Indiana. I may be crazy presumptuous right now but the other night…” I trail off, gauging her reaction.
“The other night what?” she whispers, her eyes searching mine.
“The other night was better than great. It was, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you, in my bed, and I want you there again.”