But not you.
I don’t want to share you.
You’re all mine.
I haven’t wanted anyone else pretty much since the day I met him, but I don’t have the protection of being drunk, so I erase the ‘All yours’ I was typing, and just hope he knows.
* * *
By the time I get to the house, half of Greek row is in the living room. Noah and David are in the kitchen, staring at the oven.
“What are you doing?” I ask as Noah immediately takes me in his arms and kisses me like we’re the only ones there, even though his ‘chill night with the roommates’ has turned into the hottest party around campus. Probably the only one, since it’s Monday night. David nods to acknowledge me, then takes a swig from his tequila bottle.
Noah turns me so we’re facing the oven again, then kisses my neck as he explains, “We’re baking Colt a cake.”
“Didn’t you set a timer?”
“We were worried we wouldn’t hear it.”
Instead of suggesting a phone timer, I spend the next ten minutes staring at the oven while Noah holds me close and David gives me his mother’s churros recipe, which I won’t remember without being able to write it down, but he promises we can make them together some time.
Nobody wants to wait once the cake is out, even when I explain that the icing will melt if it’s too hot, so I put the icing in the microwave for twenty seconds, add a bunch of cinnamon, and turn it into a kind of coulis. It’s not the prettiest cake I’ve ever decorated, but Colt nearly cries when they carry it out to him, with the entire party singing Happy Birthday, and it’s not like the drunk coeds will care.
“Thank you guys for this. It means…best birthday ever,” Colt says, stuffing his face, which I’m pretty sure is to avoid showing too much emotion.
“It’s a great turnout, Beckford.” Owen pats him on the shoulder.
“Everyone loves Colt.” The girl who says it is looking at him and biting her bottom lip, not in the nervous way I often do, but as an invitation.
“They don’t, though,” he tells me with a sigh on his way to put his plate in the sink, so low that I’m not sure if I imagined it.
“Of course, they do. You’re the life of—” I start, but it’s clearly the wrong thing because his face drops. Like maybe he expected more from me. “Happy birthday, Colt,” I say instead, taking him in for a hug. “You make a shy girl feel like she belongs.”
“You do. Always,” he whispers back before leading the lip girl to his bedroom.
I’m grateful when Noah whisks me upstairs just as the football team arrives, though for once, I was actually enjoying myself at a party. I didn’t feel like I had to hide in an empty room or make myself small. Which probably had a lot to do with the fact that Noah either had his arm around me, was holding my hand, or was looking at me from across the room, just waiting for an opportunity to get back to me. It didn’t hurt that almost every time I was left alone, long before anyone could say something to make me feel out of place, one of the guys – mostly his roommates, but also Darren, Donovan, and…the other one who never wears a shirt – would come up to me and ask about Izzie or how I spent my holidays, or try to find out what Noah is like when he’s not wearing his captain hat. I said it to Colt, because he does, but really, all the hockey boys have been making me feel welcome. So much that for a split second, as Noah is leading me up to his bedroom, I make eye contact with Parker and want to bring Noah back down. To introduce him to this extension of my brothers. So Parker can let them know I’m okay – taken care of – and I don’t have to keep hiding things from Noah.
But I’m a chicken. I already spend enough time wondering why Noah wants to spend time with me, I don’t need to add my brothers to the mix. And there’s no way I could convincingly say we’re just friends without the world seeing I’m in love with him.
So I smile at Parker, then spend the night with Noah, because even if I can’t tell him how I feel, I can show him, and whether he means to or not, I swear he shows it back.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Noah
Wait For Me
“You’re killing it!” Savannah calls out to Izzie while I help her work on her slapshots after practice. We still have a few hours before I have to be at the campus arena, more than enough time to shower, grab food, and drive to Wynchester.
“Think I’ll be able to go to Wynchester with a full scholarship like you?” Izzie asks me.
“I think you can do absolutely anything,” I tell her. “But I’ll have graduated by then, so you can go anywhere you want.”
“You too?” she turns to Savannah.
“Unfortunately. But I promise I’ll come see one of your games if you do.”
Izzie’s face lights up, but my chest gets tight, and I panic, because my sister will hold Savannah to that, or be crushed if she doesn’t, and this isn’t next year, it’s a fucking decade away. I want to backtrack, to warn Savannah not to say those things, but when I look at her and go to shake my head, she looks at me like she sees nothing wrong with the promise, and has every intention of following through. So I say nothing.
