The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,32

huffs.

“Me?” I point to myself. “When have I ever gotten into trouble?”

“When you spend too much time with this one.” Austin points at his sister, speaking the truth from years of experience.

I shrug, stuffing a large forkful of pasta into my mouth.

“Hey, how’s East doing?” Claire asks Austin.

He sighs, rubbing a hand across his forehand. “He’s doing pretty good. Really focused on his recovery. I know it’s good, obviously as the team captain, it’s great, that Sims is playing so well. I’m just worried East isn’t going to have a position to come back to by the time all is said and done.”

Claire’s face falls. “Have you seen him again?”

“Yeah, two days ago. Noah’s visiting him now.”

My ears perk up at this. Noah didn’t mention visiting his brother. I wonder if it’s hard for him, to see Easton struggling the way he is. I wonder if he’s talking about it with anyone since he hasn’t said anything to me.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I check to see that my family members are all engaged in conversation before I fire off a text.

Me: Hey! Busy tonight?

It only takes a few moments for him to respond, which makes me smile.

Noah: Busy doing you?

I snort.

Me: What happened to not being a booty call?

Noah: You’re a 100 times more than that and you know it.

Me: How’s East?

Bubbles appear and disappear at the bottom of the screen several times before it stays blank. I frown.

“Indy?” Mom’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I glance up.

Everyone is staring at me and I flush under their looks.

“Yes?” I ask, wondering what I missed.

“How’s everything going with the trip you’re planning?” Mom asks.

“Oh!” I smile in relief. “It’s going great. I chose the final eight students and two backups for the travel and we’ve launched into some methods for gathering information in the field. It’s…” I fill them in on the logistics surrounding the trip. By the time I’m finished, everyone seems satisfied with my response and new clusters of conversation break out.

I peek at my phone screen again.

Noah: He’s okay.

Noah: Where are you?

I frown at his message, not understanding why he’s asking.

Me: Aunt Mary’s

Noah: Oh. Cool. See you after?

Me: I’ve got to stop at campus. I’ll come by around nine?

Noah. Okay. See you then.

Me: See you

I slip my phone back in my pocket. Next to me, Claire gives me a knowing look and I smile but inside, something feels off. Unsettled. It’s unlike Noah to be so abrupt, even in a text message.

Gah, what is wrong with me?

I promised myself I wouldn’t read too much into everything, not this time. Definitely not with Noah Scotch.

Taking a deep breath, I pick up my wine glass and take a long sip.

After the busy week I had, a night in Noah’s bed will do me good, even if his conversation leaves me wanting more.

He’s quieter than normal, a little lost in his head.

“You okay?” I ask, dropping onto his couch and stacking my feet on the ottoman.

“Yeah,” Noah sighs, glancing at me. “Saw East today.” He shakes his head. “It just sucks, seeing him there, knowing how hard he’s working at things. And here I am.” He waves his beer bottle in the air.

I offer him a sympathetic shrug. “You didn’t do anything wrong by being able to have a beer.”

“No,” Noah agrees, tipping the bottle back and draining its contents. His eyes pierce mine. “But neither did Easton.”

“I’m sorry, Noah. Do you want to talk about it?” I keep my tone neutral but lean forward, hoping he confides in me.

He watches me for a long beat. When he blinks, some of the aloofness in his gaze fades, desire filling its place. “I know a better way to work out my mood.”

I snort. “Cute.”

“Get over here, Little Indy,” he beckons.

Standing, I walk over to him slowly. Noah bites his bottom lip, his eyes scanning my body. When I’m within arm’s length, he reaches out and tugs me forward by my belt loops. “I’m happy you’re here.”

It’s sweet and my heart rate ticks up at the sincerity in his tone. I slip onto his lap, straddling him. My hands rest on top of his shoulders. Noah’s hand cups my cheek affectionately, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Me too,” I murmur before I dip my head and kiss his lips.

He pulls me closer, kissing me softly and slowly. I savor the taste of his kiss before his tongue slips into my mouth, dancing with mine. Noah’s hands fall to my hips,