A Winter's Date (17 page)

I smile a drunken grin. “Spank me then.”

He smirks as he takes off my pants and gently eases my foot from them. “I just might. I’m on the verge, and your little ass is just begging for it. Go to sleep, Heather.”

I willingly close my eyes and feel the bed dip behind me. “Mmm . . .” I purr when I feel his warmth engulf me. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. “Where’s my blanket?” I ask sleepily.

I feel him exhale into my hair. “I wrapped Dillen in your blanket before I picked her up and put her to bed.”

My God, could he be any more perfect?

I’m not sure when . . . minutes . . . maybe seconds, but soon after he kisses the back of my head, I pass out and remember nothing else.

NOAH

The living room looks like we hosted a rave in it last night. My girl sure as hell went to town. I’m glad Dillen was able to get her mind off of things, and I’m equally as glad that Heather got her to stop crying. However, I am fucking pissed beyond belief that she took her boot off of her foot.

What in the hell were they thinking? How was she planning on walking without it? Her doctor specifically gave her instructions . . . I could wring both their necks for last night’s stunt.

I hear Dillen’s bedroom door open slowly, and she peeks out at me.

“Good morning, Noah.”

Her voice sounds timid as she steps out of her room. Her hair looks like it was caught in a windstorm, and she’s squinting her eyes in the bright morning light. I haven’t decided if I’m going to go easy on her or not.

“Yeah, morning. Now tell me, what in the ever loving fuck were you thinking when you let her take her damn boot off?”

I watch her eyes go from slits to wide as saucers as she shamefully stares at Heather’s boot on the floor next to me. I wait as she tries to explain. “Noah, I swear I told her not to, but she kept begging me to take it off.”

“And you let her? I know you weren’t in your right mind, but hell, Dillen. She could have seriously injured herself.”

I can tell that she’s genuinely sorry as I watch her bring her fingers to her lips and chew nervously on her nails. “Is her foot okay?”

I sigh heavily. “Yeah, she’s fine. I got to her before she stood up and I put a new sock on her, but not the boot. I need her to be awake when I put it back on so I know it’s not hurting her.”

She nods in agreement and sits down at the island across from me. From the looks of it, she’s nursing a hangover, as I’m sure my ballerina will be. I turn my back to pour her a glass of orange juice and grab the Advil when I hear her say, “I’m sorry, Noah.”

I walk over to her and hand her the tall, cool glass. “It’s okay. She’s just been through a lot, and I want her to have every chance possible to be able to dance again.”

I start to clean up the mess in the kitchen from last night when I hear her sigh. “Seriously, Noah, you are like the sweetest guy I know. I’m so jealous.” I pause briefly at her admission as I toss the shriveled-up limes into the trash.

“Coen’s a lucky guy to have you, Dill. He should have landed by now, right?”

I don’t hear a reply, so I turn and look. She’s picking at her nails, and I know from living with this girl for a few weeks now that she’s got something on her mind.

Finally, she shrugs. “Probably.”

“Probably? What’s going on?”

She leans back and puts her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head, before she takes the Advil and sets the glass down.

“I don’t really think he’s wanting anything out of our relationship,” she replies and puts her forehead in her palm.

Ah fuck, please don’t cry.

“I’ll be honest with you, Dillen. I’ve known Coen for roughly eight years now, and I’ve never seen him so enamored with anyone before. He’s a ‘fuck and dump’ kind of asshole who gets all the pussy he wants. That was until he met you, and he hasn’t bragged about a woman to me since.”

She cradles her chin in her hand. “Really?”

I shrug and nod. “Yeah, but you seem rather uninterested.”

“No, I’m interested. I just . . .”

I have to chuckle.

“What?” she prods.

I shake my head and grin. “You females overanalyze everything.” That gets a smile out of her, and she throws the bottle of Advil at my chest.

“Oh shut up.”

“It’s the damn truth, and you know it.”

“No, it’s not.”

I laugh when she refuses to admit the truth. “Okay . . . whatever you say.” I shake my head and pour some juice for Heather.

“I think I’m going to tell him we’re over.”

I’m thrown for a loop by her words. The juice almost overflows in the glass but I stop pouring as soon as I notice. “Excuse me? What the hell did you say? You know that I can’t un-hear that, right?”

I look up, and she just stares at me while chewing on her lip.

Well fuck me.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. He never alluded to the fact that he wanted exclusivity,” she replies and fidgets with her glass.

I put the carton of orange juice away and turn back around, racking my brain for the right thing to say. “I’m sure he’ll miss you.”

She winces and is about to speak when we both turn at the sound of Heather’s voice.

“What are you guys doing up?” she asks, and I take in her appearance.

Fuck, she looks cute as hell hung over. Her hair is just as wild as Dillen’s was, and her eyes are just as tired. She makes her way over to the island with the help of her crutches, and I remember how angry I was with their little stunt.

“Good morning, trouble.” I walk over and kiss the top of her head before setting the glass and Advil down in front of her.

I swear she’s about to complain when I raise my eyebrow, challenging her. Her shoulders slump and she lays her head on the cool countertop. “Heather, let me get the boot on your foot.”

“Okay . . .” she replies begrudgingly and sits up. I walk over with the boot and kneel down in front of her, carefully putting it back on.

I make sure it’s on correctly, just as the doctor showed me, and I stand back up. “Does that feel all right?”

She looks down at it, and I see a hint of disgust on her face. “Yes, it’s fine.”

I watch as she glances over at Dillen when she asks Heather, “Do you remember last night? We got in a LOT of trouble.” Dillen snickers before she drinks her juice.

Heather shrugs her shoulders, and I know today isn’t going to be a good day. I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head.

Dillen laughs, and her eyes are bright with mischief. “Do you want to do it again tonight?” she asks Heather excitedly “Oh, and I’m breaking up with Coen,” she adds, like it’s the best thing she’s decided on in a decade.

“What?” Heather shrieks and looks from me to her friend.

I shrug and shake my head. “Don’t look at me, ballerina. I want nothing to do with this.”

“I don’t think that we’d get anywhere fast, little shit. Plus, I’d rather go out and have some fun.”

I can see the confusion in Heather’s eyes as she looks at Dillen. “Oh . . . I . . . really? Are you sure, Dill? I mean, he really, really likes you.”

“I’m sure,” Dillen says without hesitation.

Heather looks over at me with a worried expression on her face, and I shrug.

“I’m going to shower and then head to practice, so I’ll see the two of you later?” Dillen asks as she walks toward her room.

“Okay, Dill,” Heather replies in her soft voice, and I take the seat next to her, angling myself to face her.

I reach over and move her hair behind her ear. “Ballerina?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night before I went to bed, I got a phone call from Ellery Somer. I didn’t answer because I wasn’t sure of what to say. It went to voicemail, and I haven’t listened to the message she left me either. I was hoping you’d listen to it first?”

I watch as her eyes widen with surprise. “Oh. I . . . of course, but . . . are you sure? I mean, don’t you want to hear her before I do?”

I get off of the barstool and offer her my hand. “No, I need you to do this for me, please.”

“Okay . . .” She seems to be as nervous as I am.

We walk into her bedroom and shut the door behind us. I unplug my phone from where it’s charging and hand it to her. I watch her look at my phone, and then she does something I’ve never seen her do. She turns her back on me.

HEATHER

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.

Okay, don’t panic.

You knew this was coming.

I chant to myself internally as I bring his phone to my ear.

I have to turn my back because I know my face will give me away as soon as I hear her.

“Hi, Noah, this is Ellery Somer, your . . .” She clears her throat. “Uhm, I just wanted to call and let you know that Henry and I are notably looking forward to speaking with you.” She pauses and takes in a shaky breath. I can hear a man whisper for her to go on in the background.

“We-we would love for you to come and visit with us, darling. Please feel free to call at any time of the day. We cannot wait see you again.” Her voice is so genuine and just like I remembered. I find myself smiling and tearing up just hearing that voice again.

“I cannot tell you what it means to me to just hear your voice.” She pauses again, and I hear a rustling before his voice comes on the line.

“Noah, it’s Henry.” He sighs but also chuckles, and it broadens my smile. “You’ll have to excuse Ellery, as she is a bit emotional. Give us a call whenever you’d like. Have a good evening.”

The message ends, and I pull the phone away from my ear as I turn back around to face him. I look up into Noah’s expectant eyes as he searches my face for answers.

I smile and hand him his phone. “Noah, they’re wonderful.”

“Yeah? What did they say?” he asks as he stares down at the phone in his large tanned hand.

“They can’t wait to talk to you.” I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. I’m so happy for him; he has no idea just how amazing they are.

His almost-smile turns into a frown as he watches me wipe my tears away. “Heather, what is it?”

I shake my head and beam up at him. “Nothing. I’m just really happy for you. You’re finally going to get to meet your parents, Noah.” I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his waist, and dwell in his warmth.

“You’re still coming with me, right?” His arms move around me, and I breathe in his clean scent.

I nod against his chest and grip at the back of his shirt. The turmoil I feel inside is excruciating. “Noah?” My heart is racing, and if I don’t tell him now, it’ll only be worse later on.

“What is it, beautiful?”

It’s now that I remember the picture I have in my purse. The one I’ve carried around for as long as I can remember. I look up at him and let go before looking around the room for my purse.

I hear Dillen yell out, “Bye guys, be home tonight.” And then the front door slams shut.

“Bye,” Noah says, but by the sound of his voice he’s more interested in what I’m doing.

I leave the confines of our bedroom and search for my purse in the kitchen. I have nothing else on my mind but finding that picture, and I barely register him calling my name. I finally find my purse and look up at him, his broad shoulders framed by the white doorframe.