AllFreeNovel
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Scars. Bruises. Wounds.
It’s all there. I’ve known him for years, but Noah has grown up. He’s a man now. Not only that, but he’s a damn superstar.
And it’s making me fucking wet.
“Right,” Noah says. “You’re coming to the bar?”
I’m not sure if he’s asking me or telling me, so I just nod and stand.
“I guess so,” I shrug.
We walk to the door of the locker room, and when we approach, we reach out simultaneously for the handle. As I grip the cold rounded knob, a warm hand glides across the back of mine, clutching at the same doorknob.
Heat splits my hand and the spark between the slight touch makes me pull my hand away as if I was shocked by an electric bolt. I look up at Noah. His eyes are as wide as mine, and he’s looking down at the palm of his hand. I wonder if he felt it too, or did the electric shock pass through me and into him?
Whatever it was, I step back, and Noah yanks the door open. He holds his arm out so I pass through first, sucking in a breath of his citrusy scent as I do. I feel his presence behind me, and in the back corridors of Viking Arena, all I can hear is Ellie’s voice, echoing in my head…
“This weekend, you lose your virginity…”
****
“Another cider?” Noah asks, his eyes gleaming. “Come on, you have to try and drink from the horns…”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not drinking from one of those things!”
I look across to the couple beside us. A bulky man, his beard as full and tangled as I’ve ever seen, is lifting a horn-shaped flask to his lips. This is a hockey themed bar, and the most popular place in Vancouver to celebrate when the team wins. The brawny fan gulps down, and the beer-filled horn rises as he tips. The woman next to him is holding one, too, her bright red Vikings jersey matching everyone else sitting along the bar.
“And you call yourself a Viking…” Noah teases.
“I never said that,” I say, raising my brows playfully. Noah gasps and his mouth hangs open until I slap his arm. “OK! OK… I’m a Viking. I love them. I love themso much…”
Sarcasm drips from my lips and Noah crosses his arms across his broad chest. He narrows his smoky gaze to me, and I push down on the warm feeling flushing my cheeks. His lips curl humorously, and when end up laughing uncontrollably together. Something inside me twists at the sound of his chuckle. It’s deep and raw. It’s untameable and rough.
I’ve spent the last hour telling myself he’s not interested, so don’t even bother. So what if he’s bought all my drinks since we sat up at the bar? And just because he’s ditched his teammates to sit with me… That doesn’t mean anything.
Does it?
Noah waves his hand at the bartender. There’s a line up for service, but when the bartender sees its Vancouver’s favourite son waving at him, he’s pouring fresh drinks for us instantly. He whips over with two freshly poured pints of warm cherry cider, in glasses, not Viking horns, and leaves with a wink directed at Noah.
“Wow… It must be nice being a famous hockey player in Canada…” I say, holding my glass for a cheers.
Noah clinks my glass. “It has its perks.”
Ellie’s here somewhere. She’s attached at the hip with that hockey player, and as her best friend and knowing her like I do, I know she’s smitten with him. Searching the room for my friend, I feel a pressure in my belly, and I know I can’t hold it in any longer.
“I need to go to the ladies,” I say.
“I’ll wait here for you,” Noah says, and when I rise to my feet, he rubs my upper arm with a soft caress. “Don’tpeelong…”
I roll my eyes at the terrible joke and force myself to make my way across the bar, my arm still burning from Noah’s touch.
The floor area of the bar is packed with bodies. Music is pumping from a jukebox in the corner, a few couples dancing in circles in front of it. A wave of people sporting red hockey jersey’s light up the orange glow under the lights. There are drinks spilling and splashing to the sticky floor, as crazy fans celebrate the last-minute win of their favourite team long into the night.
I smile.
It’s good to be home.
I reach the dark corridor that leads to the ladies room and take a glance back over my shoulder to the bar. A blonde girl is moving in and hoisting her tiny frame onto the bar stool I was sitting on seconds ago.
