I’ve taken the pillows off the couch for us to sit on, and even sitting across from her I am speechless. How can someone look this amazing without even really trying? She has no make up on, her hair is still wild. This is the Noelle I’ve always seen and loved, the one I knew I couldn’t live without. The one I imagine waking up next to in the morning and long to kiss goodnight at bedtime. The one I look forward to calling every single day during hockey season, because I can’t go a day without hearing her voice.
I never imagined my life without hockey before, it being my life’s dream and all. But Noelle makes the thought of medical retirement not just bearable, but a solid option, as it means staying right here in Sleighbell Springs with her. I would miss hockey, of course I would. But I’d have her. And that’s more than I could ever wish for.
“Go on, dig in before it gets cold,” I say, motioning to her plate. “Champagne?”
She’s got her mouth full, so she only nods. I grip the bottle tight, hoping to conceal my shaking hand as I pour the expensiveliquid into her glass—and promptly spill it all over the table.Get a grip, man.
I rise to grab a towel but Noelle places her hand on mine, stopping me in my tracks. “Just leave it. It’s not like it’s going to stain, right? Might as well eat first.”
She’s right. The top of the table is made from marble, so I could leave it for weeks without problem. I just need to find a way to get my nerves under control before I make an even bigger mess of things.
I can’t help it, though. Seeing her in that dress makes it obvious she’s way out of my league.
We eat in comfortable silence, grabbing seconds until our bellies are full and bodies warm. Noelle grabs the marshmallows and sticks while I put the plates in the sink; there’s no running water, so we’ll have to do the dishes another time.
Noelle doesn’t seem to mind the fact that her dress costs more than her rent, and she pushes the table aside before plopping down on one of the floor pillows. I linger in the kitchen with the cookies and chocolate for a moment when she pats the spot next to her with a smile, our dessert already spiked on two sticks, and I can’t help but oblige.
I need to be careful. We’re in the light of the fire now, with nothing to hide behind. Any touch, any look or word could make my body react again, and I don’t want her to think of me as some kind of pervert. I can’t stop my feelings for her, but I can try to keep a clear head.
I take my seat a safe distance away, but Noelle doesn’t seem to take the hint as she moves over to curl up into my side.
Bugs. Dead bugs. Roadkill in the height of summer. Decomposition. Bones sticking out of—
“Here,” Noelle says, pulling a piece of the melting marshmallow off her stick and holding it before my mouth. Ihope she drops it—I’d frame the entire dress as a reminder of this night.
I move slowly, waiting for her to pull back her fingers and laugh at her own joke. She doesn’t. It’s even worse.
She pushes her fingers deeper into my mouth, holding my gaze as I swirl my tongue around them and suck them clean. For a moment an image flashes before my eyes, of the marshmallow covering more interesting body parts, and I can only pray Noelle doesn’t look down at my lap.
Rotting flesh. Cockroaches. Guts. Third degree burns. Infections.
A soft blush crosses her cheekbones when she pulls back her fingers and looks away, like she only now realized what she did.
Do it again, I want to say.Let me show you how good I can make you feel.But despite the lines between us getting muddled they are still there, and it might be one step too far.
“I don’t think the power is turning back on anytime soon,” Noelle says. “It's going to be a long night.”
“Doesn’t have to be. There’s a lot we can still do.” I take another swig of champagne.Shut up.
She raises a brow. “What do you suggest?”
It’s a dangerous, foolish choice. But the alcohol has sucked all rational thought from my brain, and sucking her fingers shattered my self control. “What about truth or dare?”
Chapter ten
Cole
“Whataretherules?”
Noelle raises her eyebrows expectantly. She can’t seriously think this is a good idea, can she? I mean, I know I’m the one who suggested it, but even I know it can only lead to trouble. Maybe if I make the rules ridiculous enough she’ll see sense and back off.
“You are allowed to back out, but every time you do, you have to both remove one item of clothing and take a shot of champagne.”
That should do it.
Noelle considers this for a moment. “Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
Fuck. How much champagne has she had? The bottle is barely half-empty, so it can’t be that much. And we ate enough to not have an empty stomach to work against her. Does she really want to do this? I can’t imagine how, since after our 20 questions game it’s clear it can’t be anything but sexual. Not that I mind, of course. But shouldn’t I be stopping her from making a mistake, waiting until I’m absolutely sure she wants it to?
