Chapter 26 I wake up from my much needed afternoon nap with a headache and that out-of-body feeling of not knowing what day or time it is. My limbs feel tired and heavy from our two away games in the Midwest and then the two AM flight home. I force one eye open to find Harry Styles lying on my chest like the Sphinx, looking down at me. Okay, that's probably another reason my body feels heavy. Last night, when I finally crawled into bed just before three, I didn't feel tired anymore. I was really looking forward to seeing Ally, but of course she was already asleep, and I felt somehow restless without seeing her in person. I just lay there staring at my ceiling, wondering if she was sound asleep, if she was okay in the loft without us. Did she feel safe? Did she miss us? Did she miss me? I wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to text her separately from the group chat, but after I did, we kept texting the rest of the time I was gone. It felt so natural talking to her and getting to know each other, bit by bit. The more I know about Ally, the more I like Ally as a person. I hoped to catch her before she left for the dance studio this morning, but I swear Harry Styles figured out how to turn my alarm off or something. By the time I woke up, she was gone, so I did what any mopey-ass grown man with a crush would do...I went back to sleep and dreamed about her. Again. "Probably time I got up," I say to Harry as I give him one smooth pet along his back then gently extricate myself from the bed and sit on the edge while I grab my phone. My eyes widen when I see it's almost four in the afternoon-how did I sleep the entire day? I have practice in thirty minutes, all the way across town. I glare at Ally's cat. "I can't prove it, but I know you can work an iPhone...somehow." He does a weird purr-meow sound back. Quickly, I throw on some joggers and a long-sleeve tee and grab my gym bag. "Shit, my practice jersey," I mutter to myself while slipping my feet into my Bauer slides. I run as fast as I can with slides on my feet across the apartment to the laundry room. "Puck, puck, puck" I say with every step, even though neither Penn nor Fisher is here to hear me and put stickers on the damn chart. I finally reach the room where I left the jersey to hang dry before we left for our games on the road. Harry Styles runs along with me, and I almost trip over him. My feet come to an abrupt stop when I see Ally standing in front of the dryer, folding her clothes, just like before. A sense of total deja vu washes over me as I notice again, her hair is up in one of those big claw clips and her shirt is so long it covers her running shorts. Wait...not a shirt. My practice jersey. Downsby is emblazoned across her shoulders, and my heart skips a beat. She turns, looking unsurprised to see me. "Hi, Noah." Is it me, or is there a twinkle in her eye? It's probably me. I slide my tongue along my front teeth as I try to control the urge to cross the space between us and tug her towards me. Hold her in my arms. "Hi, Ally," I say stupidly. "Welcome home." She narrows her eyes slightly, but that impish twinkle is still there. "Don't you have practice tonight?" Taking one step toward her, I step further inside the small room. "Yes, I do." I speak slowly, waiting for her to realize I need my jersey. But something in my gut, or maybe a little further down, tells me she knows I need my jersey. She sets a pair of lacy panties down on top of her pile of laundry then turns to rest her back against the dryer. "You're going to be late. Penn and Fisher already left." I know this. Fisher had a physio appointment before practice, and Penn had a meeting with the defensive coach. "I guess I am," I say, but somehow, I can't really bring myself to care about this fact as my eyes dip down to the jersey she's wearing, and I take another step in her direction. Her gaze moves down to her torso as well, her hands tugging at the bottom of the jersey before those chocolate brown eyes meet mine again. She's looking at me from under her thick lashes. She blinks once, slowly. "Oh, is this yours?" Ally asks, the picture of innocence. I take one last step so I'm standing right in front of her. Mere inches separate us. Her chest moves up and down with each breath she takes, and when she sinks her teeth into her full bottom lip, that's when I'm certain she's teasing me. She must be feeling this same tension that I do. "Yeah, it's mine," I say, not taking my eyes off of hers. I could be talking about the jersey, or I could be talking about her. She can interpret my words however she wants. A pretty blush covers her cheeks, and my eyes move over her face, taking in all the features I missed over the past several days. The slightly upturned nose, the full pink lips, her long graceful neck, that naughty strand of hair that's always hanging down over one eye like it has a mind of its own. I missed her. I missed everything about her. "Arms up," I say, the words coming out like gravel. She bites down on her bottom lip harder, her eyes widening before she raises her arms in the air, her movements lazy and unhurried. I close my eyes for a moment, reminding my body to calm the hell down. The woman is fully dressed, and she's likely wearing a tank top under the jersey, just like last time. Even still, my hands are shaking as they move to the bottom of the garment and my breath catches in my throat as I slowly, carefully, glide the fabric up and over her body, then her face, then her arms, taking my time with her. Without the jersey, Ally stands before me in only her running shorts and a cropped athletic top that shows off her taut, defined stomach honed from hard work. My heart pounds as I clutch the jersey in my right hand, but I don't pull back or move away, and neither does she. It's like our moment on the rooftop last week, but this time she's leaning towards me, and not away. This time she's telling me with her eyes and her body language that she wants this as much as I do. Bending my neck, I lean toward her just a little more, and when her eyes flutter closed, I'm certain she wants me to kiss her. So, I do. I close the gap and press my lips to hers. Instantly, she melts against me, closing the slight distance between our bodies and pressing herself against me. My jersey drops to the floor, forgotten, as my arms slide around her waist. I tilt my head, trying to get closer to her, wanting to take our kiss even deeper. The touch of our lips sends a hot pulse through my body. Ally's mouth opens for me, and she slides her tongue against mine, intensifying the heat. She tastes so damn good, better than anything I've imagined, better than anything I've tasted before. A soft moan escapes her throat, and the sexy sound rattles my brain. I tug her against me and lift her onto the dryer in one swift movement, her long legs opening so I can stand between them. Ally's soft hands move between us under my shirt, and she glides them up my torso and pecs, torturously slow. I pull my mouth away from hers just enough to bring our foreheads together and enjoy the torment she's putting me through by touching my body like this. I missed you, I think to myself. "I missed you, too," she whispers back. I didn't realize I said the words out loud, but I can't even think with her warm hands on my bare chest. Her hands slip out of my shirt and loop around my neck. I miss the skin-to-skin contact for a brief moment, but then she uses her hands to pull my face closer and kisses me again. She tugs my bottom lip between her teeth in the sexiest move. I love that she's feeling confident, that she's kissing me how she wants, and in response, I nip at her lip, and I'm immediately rewarded with another one of those soft moans that has me losing my mind. My phone pings loudly from my pocket and I groan, pulling away from the woman who has my brain completely scrambled. "Do you think that's one of the guys, wondering where you are?" Ally asks through a shaky breath, apparently thinking more coherently than I am right now. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before reluctantly pulling my phone out and glancing at the screen. It's Penn. I've never disliked him more. Penn Are you almost here? You're always early. Just making sure you didn't get kidnapped. "You should probably get to practice," Ally says, reading the same text I am. My thumb and forefinger grip her chin, turning her face up to look at me. "I do have to get going...but we're not finished here." I place one last kiss on her mouth before stepping back to grab my jersey from off the floor, where Harry Styles is curled up and sleeping soundly. I tug it out from under him, and it's now covered in fur, but I have no regrets. Ally's laughter draws my attention and when I look back up, I notice my lucky jersey is hanging up behind her. I reach over her shoulder and remove it from its hanger, then hand it to her. "I need my practice jersey for tonight, but why don't you wear my lucky one." "Okay." Her lips, swollen from our kisses, pull up into a smirk. "You think Penn and Fisher are going out tonight after practice?" I nod. "I'm sure they will," I say, reluctantly walking toward the door and glancing at her over my shoulder. "But I'll be home before nine." I tilt my head toward my lucky jersey clutched in her hand. "You can wear that and wait for me." My words have her inhaling a sharp breath, the small but telling reaction to my words almost enough to make me forget my hockey career, cross the room, and claim her mouth again. Ally's eyes darken as she swallows. "I'll be waiting." Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!