Chapter 30 Growing up, I always wanted a dad. I didn't care about knowing my biological father-I always have and always will consider him little more than a sperm donor-but I wanted an actual father figure who would love both me and my mom well. Back then, I didn't understand the stigma my mom endured for being a teenager who'd accidentally gotten pregnant. I didn't hear the whispers or see the dirty looks she often got from the other mothers on the playground or know that some of my friends weren't allowed to come over to my house because their parents didn't think my young, single mom was a good role model. All I saw was how happy Carter made my mother. And I knew that when she was happy, I was happy. And so every night when I went to bed, I'd close my eyes and wish for my mom and Carter to get married. For him to be my new dad. And when he finally did get together with my mom, it felt too good to be true. Like I'd wake up and it would all be a dream. Our first night after moving into what is still our family home, I fell asleep in a beautiful four-poster bed fit for a princess. I was unbelievably happy-and simultaneously terrified. I vividly remember screwing up my eyes and wishing harder than I'd ever wished for it all to be real. Fast forward to a decade later, and I still make wishes at night. Since what happened at that party months ago, I often can't sleep, and end up lying awake at night, fists balled up as I wish with all my might that I could go back in time and not go to that party...then my life could go back to the way it was before. I could go back to the way I was before. But last night, something changed. As I fell asleep with Noah's arms around me, a sense of calm and peace settled over me as I realized that I no longer wished to change anything...because then, I never would have met the man who was holding me. The man who listened to me without any judgment, then helped me grow as he led me to see that no matter what happened or didn't happen that awful night, it wasn't my fault, and my pain was valid. These emotions are complicated to wrestle with. The knowledge that the worst things that happen to us can open doors that lead to the best things. But in that, I find immense comfort. Comfort that extends into the next morning, when I wake up and I'm immediately greeted by the sight of Noah, freshly showered with damp hair, standing at the foot of my bed and looking down at me like I'm something...no, someone...special. "Good morning," I whisper, suddenly a little shy. Shy, but not ashamed. "I went for an early workout," he replies, eyes soft. "You were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to wake you." "I don't remember the last time I slept so well," I admit. Beside me, Harry purrs contentedly. "I'd better get up and do something productive." "I, uh," Noah says, pausing as he seems to reach for words. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something together today? Like out of the loft, just the two of us?" He bites down on his lip as he studies me, waiting for my reaction. My heart picks up speed. "What did you have in mind?" "I thought we could use some fun." His lips tip up at the corners. "How do you feel about going skating?" "Um, I feel that I've never done it before, so I'll likely fall on my ass a million times," I say with a laugh. Noah doesn't join in with my laughter. Instead, his eyes find mine. "I won't let you fall, Ally," he says in a low, gravelly voice that makes my stomach flip. In this single sentence, I know in my core being that something fundamentally changed-shifted-between us last night. Not just physically, but emotionally. Like we're on a whole new, deeper level with each other now. One I'm desperate to keep exploring. "I'm in," I say quickly-probably too quickly. "I'll meet you downstairs at my car in twenty minutes? Figure we should meet there so we don't have to face the Spanish Inquisition from Fishy and Penn. Nosy bastards." This makes me chuckle. "Good idea." Noah leaves, and I spring into action, pulling on a pair of high-waisted leggings that I know make my butt look good, and adding a matching sports bra with a cropped dove gray sweatshirt over the top. Cute, casual, and athletic. I look in the mirror, scooping my hair up into a high ponytail secured with a white scrunchie, and I smile. After a trip to the bathroom where I take the time to brush my teeth and apply some lip gloss and mascara, I feed Harry and then practically run for the door, shoving my feet into my sneakers as I go. I hope Noah isn't annoyed that I took so long. Penn, who's lying on the couch, looks up and smiles in amusement. "Where are you going in such a hurry? Hot breakfast date or something?" "Wouldn't you like to know," I call as I duck out of our front door, his laughter following me. I find Noah in the parking garage, leaning against his Honda and looking particularly hot today in a forest green hoodie, a backwards baseball cap, and dark sunglasses-it's a good look on him. Especially because he's holding two travel coffee cups from the coffee shop next door. "I stopped by Bay Brew next door while you were getting ready," he says, holding out one of the takeout cups he's holding. "One cream, no sugar. Right?" I smile, loving that he knows this. "You really pay attention." "To certain things," he responds casually as he opens the car door. The drive to the rink-which is apparently the Lions' practice facility that Noah scored the keys to today thanks to his brother-in-law-is a world away from the last time we were in his car together. That night, the air between us was tense. This morning, we talk easily, the radio playing a background soundtrack to our conversation as Noah tells me about first meeting Penn his freshman year of college by accidentally walking in on Penn and his girlfriend at the time. In turn, I tell him about how my little brother Jamie pantsed his teacher on his first day of kindergarten and got sent to the principal's office-a new school record for how quickly a student ended up there, apparently. We're both laughing by the time we pull up at the rink, a warm feeling fizzing in my stomach from just spending time in Noah's presence and getting to know him better. But my sparkles fizzle out once we get inside and lace up our skates. Then, as we approach the pristine sheet of ice inside, my stomach plummets. "I'm going to suck at this," I mutter. His smile takes on a teasing quality as he kneels in front of me to help me with my skates. "You're more competitive than you let on, aren't you?" "I don't like being bad at things," I admit as he rests a hand on the small of my back, nudging me gently into the ice. "I'm sure I'll look like newborn Bambi out there." "You'll be fine," he assures. Spoiler alert: I am not fine. I step out on the ice, take a tentative glide forward, and immediately start windmilling my arms as I try not to topple over. Noah's behind me in an instant, fluidly skating up behind me and putting his hands on my waist to steady me. Which definitely helps take the edge off how much I suck. "Like this," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling my ear as he uses the hands he still has firmly planted on top of my hips to make me move, him gliding along behind me, holding me in place as we begin to make our way around the ice together. After a few laps, I feel slightly more confident in my balance, and Noah moves from behind me, taking my hand so we can skate-slowly-side by side. "Not bad, Callahan." He gives me another taunting, teasing smile that I could really get used to. "And by that, I mean I've seen worse." "Such high praise from the fancy pants pro." I grin. "You've probably been on skates since you could walk, I'm guessing?" A wistful look passes over Noah's handsome features. "My dad taught me when I was really young." "You must miss your mom and dad," I say softly, and he smiles at me, eyes sad. "I do." "Tell me about them. Your parents," I say, my intonation more like a question than a statement. Another shadow crosses his face, and for a moment, I feel like I've misstepped and I backtrack. "If you want to, that is. You totally don't have to, I didn't mean..." I trail off as he shakes his head. He hesitates for a moment before he says, "It can be hard to talk about them because I don't want to bum anyone out or make them think I'm a victim or something. Sometimes when I tell people about it, I feel like I have the word orphan written across my forehead and they give me those sad eyes that make me cringe." I nod. "People creating a narrative for you when they don't even know you. Or even when they do know you-or at least, you think they do." "Exactly," he says quietly. "It's funny, I know a lot of people. Teammates, college friends, friends from back home. But not one of them makes me feel as seen for who I really am as you do." I swallow, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. "I see you, Noah." "I know," he replies. "And as for my parents, they were amazing. The best. And I...I just want to make their memory proud. My dad would have been so proud that I made the NHL-it was a dream we shared. Right after my parents passed away, I had a thought that it might be easier to throw in the towel, quit skating to stop the memories from stinging so bad. But I knew, deep down, I had to do the opposite-push myself, prove myself, go all in on what I loved doing. Because that's what they would have wanted for me." "That's amazing, Noah." He comes to a sudden stop, spraying ice on the edge of his skate blade as he captures both of my hands and spins me around to face him. "And for the record, I'm not telling you what to do...but I'll tell you what I think. And I think you should do the same." "Do what?" I ask, looking up at his coffee eyes. Noah sets his jaw, one of his hands moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as he looks me in the eye and says, "Keep dancing. Like, not just teaching dance but dancing for real. Don't let that asshole take what you love away from you." His words hit me square in the chest, a bullet reaching its target. Because he's right. When the unthinkable happened to Noah, he didn't give up. Instead, he let his pain make him stronger. And now he's in the NHL. When my mom got pregnant and was terrified, she didn't give up, either. Instead, she committed herself to being the best mother in the universe-and ended up happily married to the best man possible, with two kids who adore her. Until now, I've been running and hiding. Making do with a consolation path for my future because of someone who doesn't deserve to have had any hand in shaping my life's direction. I need to make my own way. Run towards my own goals, instead of letting my past haunt me and hold me back. "I'm going to audition," I speak the words out loud, feeling brave, and with a sureness that I feel deep in my bones. "To be a dancer in Expressions. I'm going to do it." "That's my girl." Noah's smile lights me up from the inside. He runs his fingers through my hair tenderly, protectively, as he adds, "And I'll be with you every step of the way. Whatever you need. You can do this. We can do this." Noah's encouragement makes me smile, too. "Maybe that should be our next date then. Dancing." "Next date, huh?" A blush creeps up my neck as I realize what I inadvertently said. "Uh, not that I mean I think this is a date or⁠-" "It's a date, Ally," Noah cuts me off firmly, squeezing my hand. "The first of many." His words make my heart soar. "How presumptuous," I tease. In response, he gives me a sexy smirk that throws me off balance, and I wobble precariously. "Ahh!" I squeal, the sensation of starting to fall making my stomach swirl for a moment before, quick as a flash, his hands slide back around my waist, tugging me close and keeping me upright. "Say that again; I dare you," he says in a low, gravelly voice that makes me hot to my very core. I tilt my chin up defiantly. "How presumptuous," I repeat, the words full of sass. "That's it, Callahan," Noah says before he leans forward and lifts me in his strong arms in one swift motion-like I weigh nothing. He holds me tight to his chest as he begins to skate at top speed around the rink, a dizzying pace that has my heart fluttering. "Put me down!" I yell with a laugh, but I don't mean it. Not one bit. I decide I don't ever want to be anywhere but in Noah's arms, period. Noah skates over to the boards and sets me down gingerly. His hands skim down the sides of my body, fingers catching that inch of bare skin between where my sweatshirt ends and my leggings begin, and I suck in a breath, my legs wrapping around him as he stands before me. He looks down at me tenderly, the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. "Hi," I say, the syllable catching in my throat. He chuckles throatily. "Hi." He's so close, sharing body heat with me. His face is mere inches away, and my current position sitting on the boards cancels out our height difference. I rest a hand on his chest, and I can feel the erratic rhythm of his heart pumping beneath my fingertips. His gaze holds mine, and when he leans forward, I immediately do the same, desperate to close the last of the distance between us. But instead of kissing me, Noah presses his lips to my forehead in the sweetest, softest kiss that spreads fireworks across my skin and melts my heart. "I'm so happy you're in my life, Ally," he murmurs. "I can hardly remember what life was like without you," is my honest response. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!