Chapter 14 "I love this song!" I exclaim as I turn the radio up in Noah's car. Anything to fill the awkward, tense silence that's been buzzing between us for the past ten minutes. I'm way too aware of him-his large hand draped over the steering wheel, the way a stray lock of hair has fallen onto his forehead, the unmistakable scent of sandalwood and pine-and I need a distraction. "Bed Chem" by Sabrina Carpenter plays through the car speakers, and Noah looks over at me with a pained expression. He often looks at me like that: like he's some kind of tortured soul, and that me simply existing in his vicinity is his personal brand of the worst possible torture. Which is only slightly offensive. And also very bewildering-because I could have sworn there was also heat in his expression earlier, as we bickered in Andie and Mitch's kitchen. Almost like he was...aroused. Which I'm sure is just me misreading things. Noah thinks I'm annoying as all hell. He does not think I'm attractive. But still, the memory of his brown eyes searing into mine has me a little hot and flustered. I quickly shove the thought away and say, "Don't tell me you're a Sabrina hater." "Who?" he asks. "Sabrina Carpenter?" I gasp. "I have no opinion on Sabrina Carpenter whatsoever," he replies. Pauses. "Mostly because I have no idea who she is." "Of course you don't," I tease with a grin as I crank the radio up further. "But luckily for you, Noah Downsby, I am here to educate you." "I didn't ask to be educated," he grouches, but I swear I see a flicker of a smile cross his lips. Progress! We're silent for a few beats as the catchy pop song continues, but as Sabrina sings about late night fantasies of getting freaky, I realize I have made a colossal mistake. Because I have inadvertently just turned up the most blatantly suggestive song on the planet...and then told Noah I'm going to educate him. My cheeks flame red as Sabrina's lyrics move on to talking about arriving at the same time, and I wring my hands in my lap. Noah, who's been tolerating the song so far, makes a little choked coughing noise and redirects his glare from me to the radio. "You doing okay over there?" I ask as he splutters. Instead of responding, Noah reaches over and switches the radio off. Once again, silence fills the car. Only now, it's even more awkward than it was before. Way to go, Allegra. "I like silence when I drive," he snaps. And so, we're silent for the rest of the drive home, which feels like it takes approximately twenty-eight years instead of twenty-eight minutes. But I know for a fact that it takes twenty-eight minutes because I watch the clock on the dash the whole time. And for all twenty-eight minutes, he's completely focused on the road, with his spine straight and his mouth in a firm line. His facial expression reminds me of Edward when Bella's scent wafted towards him, and he fled biology class. He had a bad day, I remind myself as we pull into our building's parkade. And on top of that bad day, he still made time for his family tonight. And the way that he is with his nieces gave me legitimate butterflies-I liked seeing that softer, sweeter side of Noah that I didn't know was in there. In fact, him being covered in all that glitter tonight reminded me of my own childhood. When I was little, back when my mom and dad were just friends and hadn't gotten married yet, Dad used to let me do the same to him, never complaining once as I coated him in lipstick and eyeshadow. He was always there for me, filling that father-figure role in the best way for years before he became my dad legally. So just seeing the way Noah was with Paige, Laini, and Harlow tonight, I know he's a good guy...but not going to lie, I don't understand him at all. "Thank you for the ride," I tell him when we are finally out of that cramped car and walking towards our loft. I had my seatbelt off and door open practically before he'd come to a complete stop. "You're welcome, Ally," he replies, that pained look visible again in his eyes as he watches me dig around in my bag for my key. I finally locate my key, and I can't get inside fast enough. I'm hoping for a friendly face or two in front of the TV, but we find the loft quiet and dark. "They're out at the bar tonight," Noah explains, clearly sensing I'm looking for Penn or Fisher. His jaw tics in annoyance as he says this, and I bite my lip, resisting the urge to give him a little shove. Is it really so bad that Penn and Fisher like me? And would it really be so hard for you to like me, too? "Oh," is all I can manage aloud. Real scintillating stuff. "Well," Noah says, standing by my side in the spacious entryway. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," I reply. As he walks away from me, I stick my tongue out at his retreating back-childish, I know, but I'm frustrated as all hell-before I head to my own room. I was going to hit the gym, but I decide against it. Since that first night on the treadmill here, I've been putting myself through punishing daily workouts, running towards oblivion as fast as my lungs and legs will let me, until I'm sweaty and breathless and my brain is entirely devoid of all thoughts. It's been nice to put my body through that kind of pain, a manageable, achy, good kind of pain that I can push through in the knowledge that it's only making me stronger, while it forces all thoughts of Tyler's hands on me to take a back seat. But after all of today's walking around the city and then teaching four hours of back-to-back dance classes, my muscles are starting to protest. I should take a break from the treadmill tonight. And that's when I remember the conversation at dinner-we have a hot tub! With Penn and Fisher out, and Noah already in his room for the night, it's the perfect time to try it out. I can practically feel the steamy hot water soothing my aching muscles already. With a sudden smile, I change out of my dance clothes and into a yellow bikini with little white daisies on it, then scoop my hair up into a claw clip and wrap myself in a big, fluffy bath towel. "I'll be back soon, Harry," I tell my cat as I throw my bedroom door open...just as Noah's door opens across from mine. He freezes when he sees me, and I realize he's wearing black swim trunks and has a towel draped across his broad shoulders. Our eyes meet, and his are as wide as a deer caught in headlights-wait, moose! Ah, but Penn isn't here so it doesn't matter. I quickly avert my eyes...but then find myself face to face with his ridiculously sculpted bare chest and taut stomach. Is that a twelve pack? How's that even possible? My eyes fly back to his face and we both stand there in our respective bedroom doorways like idiots. After a moment, he gives me a small, closed-lipped smile and nods down at the towel I'm currently clutching for dear life around my chest. "Were you on your way to the shower or hot tub?" "Hot tub," I say, silently praying he was planning to shower. "You?" He looks almost rueful as he says, "Same. Sore from practice earlier." It's going to look really weird if I make an excuse to not go in the hot tub now, so I jerk my head in the direction of the patio. "Guess we're both headed in the same direction, then." "Guess so." Just when I thought the painful silences were over for the night. I follow Noah to the living room, trying (and failing) not to notice the freckle on his right shoulder blade, or the twin divots at the base of his spine. I wish I wasn't so hyper aware of how painfully attractive he is, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm some kind of masochist-being attracted to a guy that dislikes me after months of not feeling even an inkling of attraction to anyone. We step out onto the patio, and immediately goosebumps rise on my skin. After such a warm day, it's chilly outside now, with a bite in the night air. "Brr." I wince against the wind as Noah removes the cover from the tub, sheds his towel, then immediately sinks below the steamy water. Meanwhile I stand there on the patio, clutching my towel to my chest, suddenly feeling unsure. But then Noah averts his eyes in a way that reminds me of one of those regency romances-all gentlemanly and polite. And immediately, I feel at ease again. Somehow, I just know that I'm safe with him. Maybe he feels safe because he clearly has no interest in me. I shed my towel and jump into the scalding water, submerging myself as quickly as possible. My skin prickles and zings at the shocking sensation of the heat, and I choose to sit on the other side of the jacuzzi from Noah. "Better?" he asks, his eyes tentatively making their way to mine. I nod. "Much better. Fisher's family really went all out with this place, huh?" He frowns at me, like he's trying to read into what I'm saying, but he's failing to come up with whatever explanation he's looking for. "Were you guys tight at USG?" he eventually asks. I shake my head. "No, not at all. I was a sophomore last year and he was a senior, and USG's a big school, so we didn't have any classes together or many mutual friends. We'd just seen each other around, for the most part." "You were a sophomore last year?" Noah's eyes search mine. "I thought you moved out here after you graduated." "I dropped out the day before I drove out here." His eyebrows shoot up for a moment, and I know what he must be thinking-dropping out midway through a semester reeks of self-importance, thoughtlessness-but he quickly regains his poker face. "Why?" "Needed a change." I swallow thickly. "I was on scholarship, so it's not like my parents paid for a semester that I didn't finish or anything." He nods, and I sense no judgment, which makes me feel a little less nervous. "What was your major?" he asks, pushing his dark hair back off his forehead. "Performance Arts. Dance, specifically." I give him a sheepish little smile. "I had some teaching credits under my belt already, though, which I'm sure helped me get my current job." "Do you want to be a dancer?" His question feels like a slap, causing my breath to hitch. Since that night, dancing hasn't been the same for me. Despite how many times I've given myself stern talking-tos, steeled myself against those vicious words hissed against my skin last spring, I've been overly conscious about my body. How it moves. The messages it might be sending. The solo contemporary piece I was working on at the beginning of the semester felt stilted and wooden, and my instructor was a little baffled with how much my style had changed. And then, when Tyler transferred into that contemporary class earlier this month and requested me and him be paired together again for our junior showcase piece, I got the hell out of there and haven't danced since. Teaching littles is my new happy place with dance. It's safe, allowing me to enjoy dance again without worrying about sexualizing myself-something I'd never worried about before that night with Tyler. "I used to," I tell Noah. "It was my whole life growing up, I was absolutely obsessed." This earns me a rare, lopsided grin from him. "Sounds like me and hockey." "When did you start playing?" "When I was four. My dad got me my first pair of skates after I begged for them." "I bet he's so proud of you." Noah's expression falters for a moment, then he looks away. "He died. When I was eleven. My parents were in a car accident, and they both passed away." For a moment, I forget to breathe as my heart crushes in on itself and I absorb this news. I feel utterly devastated for him. "I'm so sorry, Noah." He ducks his head. "It was a long time ago." "That doesn't make it any less awful that you had to go through that." "Thanks, Ally," he says softly. "I'm..." He clears his throat. "I'm sorry if I've been a bit of a dick to you since you moved in." "It's okay," I say immediately. Because after what he just told me, I understand him more. Why he's moody and grumpy at times. He's been to hell and back. "No, it's not." Noah's eyes are steady as he looks at me. "It's my first season in the NHL, and it was always my and my dad's dream for me to get here. I've been putting all of my focus into playing as well as I can, and things have been really frustrating with some of my teammates." He brings a muscled arm above the water then drags his wet hand through his dark hair, leaving the strands damp. "I think I might've taken some of that frustration out on you." He drapes the same arm along the back of the hot tub, then meets my gaze. "It took me by surprise when you moved in, and I'm not exactly great with surprises." He laughs a little bashfully, scratching behind his ear. "Or change of any kind." I drag my eyes away from his bulging bicep. "I understand," I tell him. "That makes a lot of sense. And I'm sorry for adding to the stress on your plate by imposing that change on you." I smile gently. "And Harry's sorry, too." Noah snickers. "No, he's not." "I think he might be in love with you," I tell him, and I'm strangely delighted when this makes Noah laugh. He has a great laugh-low and rumbly and gruff. "I...think I might not hate him as much as I thought I would," Noah replies, his words strangely weighted as his eyes find mine. He looks at me for a moment, his teeth pressing into his bottom lip, and for some reason, the sight of this makes my stomach dip dangerously. The sensation startles me. After what happened with Tyler, it's like an off-switch was flipped inside me. All of my feelings of desire just...gone. Poof, disappeared. It was self-preservation, I'm sure. A way to stop myself from getting hurt again. But Noah is bringing up feelings in me that I'm not sure what to do with; not sure that I'm ready to face. "Does that sentiment go for me, too?" I venture cautiously. The pained look is back. "I...never hated you, Allegra," he says, his voice raspy. My stomach drops further. "I⁠-" "What's up, roomies?!" An obnoxious whoop interrupts whatever Noah was about to say, and we both turn around, startled, to see Fisher standing before us. His hands are on his hips, and he's wearing nothing but a Speedo that leaves absolutely nothing to imagination. I choke and smash my hands over my face. "Fisher! My eyes!" Noah sputters, whatever he was about to say dying on his tongue as Archibald Fisher yells "Party in the hot tub!" and cannonballs right into the jacuzzi between us. As a wave of water splashes over my face, I feel a stab of disappointment that now I'll never know what Noah was going to say... Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!