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Noah glares. “Don’t be so happy about it, sheesh.”
“I’m not.” My tone sounds defensive, even to my own ears. Noah purses his lips and crosses his arms, still holding his stick in one hand. “I’m just curious why you’d think that.”
He laughs through his nose. “You don’t know much about girls, do you?”
My face twists in annoyance. “And you do?”
He nods slowly. “I know that when a girl’s face gets all red when they’re around you, that means they have a crush on you.”
My eyes widen and Noah’s expression tells me he’s quite pleased with himself. “And Andie’s face is always red when you’re around.”
I feel my own face growing warmer. “Probably because I make her mad.”
His eyes look up and he quirks his lips, pondering my words. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s probably it.” He skates away from me toward the net, leaving me there gaping at him. The ability to leave me stunned and at a loss for words must be a family trait.
Noah and I spend a half hour going over drills, practicing our shots from various positions, and he even shows me some of his speed skating moves. I replicate the moves easily, but I definitely couldn’t have when I was his age.
We’re taking a water break when I remember my homework from Dr. Curtis for therapy. I thought hard about it last night, but couldn’t come up with a damn thing to help me relax.
“So, my shrink gave me homework,” I say, then take a big gulp from my water bottle.
“Yeah? What was it?” Noah squirts water into his mouth from his water bottle, then wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Finding something to help me relax. Any ideas? Something non-hockey related and not on a screen.”
He wrinkles his nose. “What else is left?”
I huff out a laugh. “My thoughts exactly.”
Noah rubs his chin with the hand not holding onto his water bottle. He’s deep in thought when his eyes light up with an idea. “Andie relaxes after work by taking bubble baths and listening to books.”
“Really?” I ask, trying to mask the fact that his big sister in a bubble bath is extremely interesting to me. “I never thought about listening to books… and I do have a giant bathtub.”
“She’d be so jealous,” he says, smiling to himself. “The tub in my parents’ master bathroom is tiny. Well, I guess it’s Andie’s now… not my parents’.” His face falls, and my hand moves of its own volition to his shoulder.
I go with it, gripping his shoulder tightly in a comforting gesture. It’s not something I'm used to doing, comforting people, but I think it’s what I probably needed when I was his age. Even though I never would’ve admitted it. My granddad was my favorite person, and he did his best, but he definitely wasn’t affectionate. I’m not even sure I can recall the last time someone hugged me, like really hugged me. A big, full-on, bear hug.
In my youth, right after being drafted, I did my fair share of dallying with the ladies. I’m no innocent little angel, alright? But having someone know you, someone to talk to, someone to comfort you? That’s different. And I never thought I’d want that, never thought I'd crave someone’s touch in that way… and maybe therapy is just completely and utterly ruining me… but it’s starting to not sound so bad.
“Why do you always look like you’re about to cry?”
My head whips over to look at Noah, who’s studying me intently. I’m not sure how long he’s been staring at me while I thought about hugs. “I’m not crying. And I thought you said you wouldn’t make fun of me if I did?”
“I won’t. But you gotta give a guy some warning.” He stands on his skates and starts making his way onto the ice.
“I wasn’t crying!” I yell after him. He ignores me.
CHAPTER 18
ANDIE
Stepping out of my car, I see Mitch and Noah sitting outside the iceplex chatting. It’s a brisk January evening and they’re both bundled up in their coats. Mitch is all big shoulders and chiseled jawline where Noah is slight, his face still rounded in that youthful way. Not quite a man, not quite a child.
Seeing the difference they make in each other amazes me. Like they both just needed someone who understood them. Noah needed someone after we lost our parents, and I can’t help but wonder what happened in Mitch’s past that made him need someone too. And made him feel kinship with Noah.
Their heads pop up when I put the car in park and they start walking my way. Noah has his giant hockey bag, as always, the one with that dorky wombat on the side.
I pop my trunk via the lever inside my driver’s side door, then walk around to the back to make sure the groceries are out of the way.
