“Not my girlfriend,” Tate says with an edge to his voice. “My colleague.”
It’s what I wanted, and yet I deflate. It feels like we’re back at that charity event months ago, with Tate telling the woman at the front that we are definitely not together.
“Whatever you say,” Noah says with lifted eyebrows and a smile.
“How long are you in town for?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Just tonight. I flew in this morning for work and fly back to Toronto tomorrow morning. My colleagues are all on the red eye home, but I wanted to catch the game. Tate’s stuffing me up in your dad’s private box,” he tells me. “Something about how I’lltell embarrassing stories about himor something.” He does an exaggerated confused expression and I can’t help but smile.
Maybe he’s not as handsome as Tate but Noah is supremely likable in the silly, friendly life-of-the-party way that Hayden Owens and Rory Miller and Georgia are. Like my mom was. Teasing is their love language.
“I’d pay a lot to hear those.”
“Join me,” he says.
“No.” Tate folds his arms over his chest. “She can’t.”
“I can’t?” He’s acting weird. If I didn’t know him better, I’d call this mood grumpy. “Why not?”
He chooses his words with care, taking a deep breath. “You always watch from the area outside the dressing room.”
“Sure, but I can watch from the box. That’s technically where I should be, in this role.” I shrug. “And Noah came all this way. He shouldn’t have to watch the game alone.”
Maybe he’ll tell me those embarrassing stories. We’re putting the whole thing that happened the other night behind us, but I can still tease Tate.
Noah’s smile sharpens. “I would love that, Jordan. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
Tate’s gaze hardens as he stares at Noah and tension thickens in the air. I frown between them.
“Fine,” Tate says, looking away.
“Great. This is going to be fun.” Noah loops his arm around my shoulder, jostling me. Like Tate, he towers over me. I barely reach his shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re so cute,” he tells me with a grin. “You’re pocket-sized.”
I give him death eyes and Noah looks to Tate. “Does she bite?” he asks him.
“Yes,” I cut in.
Tate meets my eyes before he glances at Noah’s arm, still around my shoulder. “Keep up the short jokes and she might.”
Noah grins again. “Got it. Hey, Jordan, are you single?”
I give him a wary look. “Yes?”
“Really?” He frowns like he’s stupefied. “Not for long, I’m sure, with those eyes.” He winks at me.
“Noah.” There’s a warning tone to Tate’s voice. Something pulls tight in the air between them as Noah stares back, his mouth curved. “Behave.”
Noah’s eyes glitter. “I always do.”
Tate rolls his eyes. “You never do,” he mutters before he turns to me with a hesitant look. “I’ll see you after the game?”
“Sure.”
He looks like he wants to say more but turns and leaves.
“So, what’s going on with you and my brother?” Noah asks the second we get to my dad’s private box.
My face goes warm. “Nothing.”
