"I'm a molester," she said as her heart raced.
Abigail rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not like you had sex with him. Did you? I mean your pants were kind—"
"No!" Melanie yelled before she found herself frowning. Did she? Right now, her memories were discombobulated. It wasn't like a whole memory, but instead, clippings of what happened. But they couldn't have had sex. There was no way.
"Well, if you didn't do that, then all you did was kiss him. It's not like it's the end of the world. You were drunk and you kissed him."
"I'm the adult in this situation. It's my job to be responsible. I had no right being at that party anyway." Melanie glared at Abigail, who raised her hands in a non-guilty gesture.
"How am I at fault? How was I to know you were going to sneak upstairs and start making out with him? But, then again, I saw this coming."
"You saw what coming?" Melanie asked as she paced back and forth. She didn't see any of this coming. When she first met Noah, she didn't think she would lose her job because of him. If that was the case, she would have definitely let him fail her class.
"It's so clear that you like each other. The sexual tension is there. You spend all of your time with him—"
"That's not true!"
"But you do! Every time I call you, it's 'I'm going to lunch with Noah this,' and 'I'm going to dinner with Noah that,' and 'I'm tutori—"
"It's my job to tutor him. And the reason we go to lunch and dinner is because of bets, not because of romantic stuff. We have a professor and student relationship. Nothing more."
Abigail sighed as she picked up her spoon again. "You're definitely more than professor and student. You're friends, right?"
Melanie sighed as she sat back down, and when she tried to pick up her spoon, she realized she lost her appetite. She felt dirty like she had taken advantage of Noah. He was a young, hormonal teenager. Of course, this probably meant nothing to him. But had this been the other way around, then Abigail definitely wouldn't have been so relaxed about this. Then again, maybe Abi wasn't the best one to play devil's advocate with because Melanie remembered the many times Abi had flirted with some of their professors that were deemed hot, and sometimes, Melanie suspected Abi had done something with them, but she wasn't sure.
"We are friends," Melanie admitted, and then she felt a pang in her chest as she started to mourn their friendship. To be honest, she liked Noah a lot. Not as a man but as a friend. She got along with him really well and he was hilarious. Abigail was right. She did spend a good amount of her time with him, and she didn't get tired of it either. It felt good to be around him. It felt good to laugh with him, and argue with him, and eat with him. But now, all of that would be over. She couldn't do anything with him anymore. She would probably have to cut the tutoring. Clearly, they had gotten too close.
"There's no reason to be so down about this. You were drunk, and you kissed him. You didn't have sex with him—"
"But that's the problem, Abi. I almost did."
She could remember the way she felt that night. She could remember how she wanted to remove his shirt and unbuckle his pants. If it wasn't for Abigail, she probably would have been on all fours with Noah behind her. She wanted that.
"Melanie, let this go. Talk to him and apologize. And whatever you do, please don't do your goody-two shoe thing and tell the board about what you did. I'm pretty sure Noah isn't even stressing about this. Hell, he probably doesn't remember."
"It doesn't make it right."
"Melanie, I swear if you make this bigger than what it is, I'm going to hurt you. Now, sit down and eat your food."
Melanie sighed before she shoveled a spoonful of soup in her mouth. Honestly, with the way she felt right now, she could go the rest of her life without seeing Noah Walker.
CHAPTER
22
NOAH
“N
OAH, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Coach Benson barked, his voice echoing throughout the hockey rink. Noah's blades sliced into the ice until he stopped. This was his fourth time missing the puck in a row. Usually, doing drills like this was easy for him. He had done drills like this his whole life, but right now, he couldn't concentrate at all.
"Where is your head at?" Coach Benson asked, shaking his head. "Get the hell off my ice and get yourself together."
Noah gritted his teeth before skating off the ice. A couple of his teammates slapped his back with empathy, but Noah shrugged them off. He wasn't in the mood, and to be honest, Coach Benson was right to kick him off the ice right now, even if they were just practicing. He couldn't concentrate. His mind was somewhere else, and Noah knew exactly where it was— back at Dex’s party yesterday, specifically in his parents’ bedroom closet.
That kiss…that kiss was something he hadn't expected. But then again, everything about that night was something he hadn't expected. When he won the game that night, he was on a high that he couldn't come down from. Their team had worked hard and beat one of their rivals, and while he was out on the ice, Noah saw something he thought he would never see— Melanie in the stands watching him as he played. Noah figured he would never be able to get her to come after asking her multiple times. He almost gave up on the idea. Noah didn't know why he wanted Melanie to watch him play so bad. He had many people watching him while he played on the ice— family, friends, recruiters, fans, people all over the world watching him as he played, but there was something about knowing that her brown eyes were watching him. It gave him the energy and confidence he needed to close out the game with that winning shot because he wanted to impress her.
He wanted her to see why being out on the ice meant so much to him, and she saw it. When she acknowledged him, it made him feel good, and that high he had felt, he didn't want to lose it. So, he invited her to a party because he wanted to share his win with her. But who was he fooling? He always wanted to spend his time with Melanie. She was more than just his professor. She was his friend, his partner, the person he shared his day with, the person he texted about the random stuff he saw.
