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“Have you thought this through?” I change tactics. “We’ve been in a bubble for weeks, but that will change once you’re cleared to play. You’ll be gone half the time, so we won’t be sharing anything. You'll be gone, and unless you plan to keep me here in secret, people will find out you’re with a man.”
“So.”
“So?” I echo. “What do you think people are going to say when not one but two players on the Bulldogs are gay?”
“I’m not gay, so who cares.” He lifts a casual shoulder.
“Stay in your lane, big guy. I’m the brat in this relationship.” I point to my chest. “So don’t sit over there acting all smug like it’s no big deal if people say… What?” I bark as he collapses into a fit of laughter.
“You said relationship.” His lips twitch into a satisfied smile.
“I…” My jaw bobs up and down. That’s not true. I’m morally opposed to them. Even friendships are a stretch. I’d never willingly admit to being in one. So, why can’t I deny it?
Closing my eyes, I try to breathe through the panic and uncertainty that feels like it’s crushing my chest, the way it did all those years ago when life pulled the rug out from under me. In… Out… In… Out…
It doesn’t help. My head starts to spin, and I know I’ve only got a few seconds to sit down before my legs collapse. Except, they’re rooted to the floor like they’re glued in place, and I wobble when I finally manage to shuffle a foot forward.
Instead of falling, I find myself pressed against Noah’s broad chest, his arms wrapped protectively around me. “I’ve got you,” he whispers as he guides my head to the crook of his neck.
Though my heart is still trying to win a record for the most beats per minute, the dizziness begins to fade the moment my body makes contact with his. If I was in my right mind, I’d probably worry about that, but the only conscious thought in my brain is that I’m safe in his arms. Admittedly, that’s a strange thought for a guy who thrives on his independence, but it’s turning out to be a weird day.
Fuck me, I’m a mess. A mess with a…boyfriend? The thought makes me shudder, or shiver—I’m not sure which—I only know it makes Noah’s grip on me tighten, and I lean into his embrace.
The longer he holds me, the calmer I feel. Usually, I feel jittery when people get too close—in a non-sexual way—but Noah’s touch seems to ground me. It dulls the warning bells in my head and the anxiety in my limbs, leaving me somewhat stable. And…content?
Is this what dating feels like? This weird sense of peace and comfort that has nothing to do with arousal? That’s maybe worth exploring.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, hugging in the kitchen while Noah tenderly sifts his fingers through my hair, but by the time he guides me to the couch to sit down, my pulse is somewhat back to normal and my breathing is steady.
“I’m sorry,” Noah kisses the top of my head as he tucks me against his side. “I didn’t realize I was pushing you that far out of your comfort zone.”
“I didn’t realize I was in a…relationship.” I wrinkle my nose since that word still feels strange on my tongue. I’m not sure why, since this sleepover thing has been going on awhile, and it hasn’t been about taking care of him for at least a week. Maybe Xander’s right and it never was. I just wanted to be around him. God knows, I’ve opened up to him more than anyone else in my life. I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself.
“We don’t have to call it a relationship if you aren’t ready for that. We can stick with the friends who fuck thing.”
“Well, lightning hasn’t struck me down yet so…”
“What if we don’t use labels?”
I take a deep breath and let it out with a heavy sigh. “You’re a public figure, people will hound you to define this until you do. And really, I’m being silly. Lots of people dream of a hockey god sweeping them off their feet. I should be shouting that shit from the rooftops.”
“Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” Noah’s voice is understanding even though he tenses underneath me, and I feel like an ass for making him confused.
I kiss the shoulder I’m leaning on, which feels surprisingly natural. “You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
“But dating does.” When I only nod, he continues. “Are you willing to tell me why?”
“Not today. I will,” I rush to clarify, “but realizing I’m in a…a…”
“Relationship.”
“Yeah, that. That’s enough for one day.”
“Okay,” he says, and for the second time since I walked in the door, I’m struck by how sweet my Thor is. Omigod, it’s happening. I called him mine—in my head—but still. Is that normal? One second, you’re a proud hedonist and the next you have a…person?
“You’re thinking awfully hard over there.” Noah’s lips brush over my forehead.
“Yeah, it’s just. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be with someone.”
