I don’t stop thinking about Noah, or the conversation we had after practice, for the rest of the day.
I’m distracted as the HR people ask me questions, and it takes me thirty minutes to craft an email that should’ve only taken me one or two. It’s ridiculous, and the exact opposite of what I set out to do when I left for work this morning.
But still, as my first day on the job comes to a close and the sun begins to set, I find myself slipping into a slightly less corporate outfit back at my apartment, then heading out to the bar where Noah said the team would be meeting up.
I know it might not be the best idea, but I could really use a drink.
Plus, it’s a great opportunity to bond with the team and get to know them on a more casual level, something that will be key to running a successful social media campaign for the team. Most social media platforms these days thrive on the personal. The real. People don’t want the polished, curated version of things. They want to see who the people they follow truly are.
And if Noah will be at the bar too, so what? He’s just another member of the team, so I need to get to know him better too.
Professionally, of course.
After parking my car in front of the crowded pub, I take a moment to check my makeup in the rearview mirror, smoothing down my wayward hair after tugging my hat off. I’m happy to see that I’m no longer blushing, at least. My cheeks have been red for most of the day, and that’s the last thing I want Noah noticing. I tried to keep my voice steady and my comebacks quippy when we spoke after practice, but standing that close to him again, being on the receiving end of his smile and staring into his gorgeous blue eyes? Let’s just say, I’m very happy the rest of his team interrupted us when they did.
If Noah didn’t notice me blushing then, he would have soon enough. He seems like the type of guy who picks up on those things, who knows exactly how to get under a woman’s skin and stay there. That’s exactly why I can’t let things go any further between us.
He’s a player.
A heartbreaker.
And I’m simply too smart to put myself in the crosshairs of someone who’ll play with my heart. I’ve been burned before, and I’m not about to let it happen again.
Just to make sure the message sinks in, I say it out loud to myself.
“You’re too smart to fall for his bullshit,” I say to my reflection in the mirror. “You’re not going to be one of those girls photographed leaving Noah Blake’s apartment at the crack of dawn. No. Fucking. Way.”
With my head firmly on straight, I’m starting to feel a bit better about going into the bar, so that’s what I do. The place is called The Hideout, and it’s got the kind of vibe that comes from being an old, established venue. It’s dimly lit and crowded, with dark wooden tables and a gleaming, pockmarked bar. I spot the Aces right away, several members of the team huddled around two tables near the back. There are two women standing with the group as well, and as I approach, they both greet me with big smiles.
“Hi!” The taller one, whose hair is a slightly darker shade of blonde than mine, waves. “You must be Margo.”
“That’s me.” I nod, reaching out to shake her hand. “And you are…?”
“I’m Violet,” she says. She’s got a cheery disposition and is wearing a short dark dress that clings to her body. “I’m Reese’s sister.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her.
“And this is Callie,” she adds, pointing to the curvy, diminutive redhead on her right. Callie waves somewhat shyly, but her smile is warm and genuine.
“My sister is visiting from Chicago,” Reese explains, gesturing to Violet. Now that he’s mentioned their familial relationship, I can see the slight resemblance between them. Their hair is close to the same color, and they have similar brown eyes. “And she and Callie were both very excited when I told them we have a new woman working in the marketing department.”
“It’s just nice to have someone else to talk to when I’m around the team,” Violet comments with a laugh. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to sit around a table and listen to these idiots argue about who’s more of a legend, Gretzky or Beliveau.”
“Jean Beliveau for sure.” Noah’s deep voice hits my ear as he comes up to the table with what appear to be two Manhattans in his hands. He gives the one with two cherries in it to me, his ocean-blue eyes catching mine. “Your favorite, right?”
“Right,” I say, dragging out the word as my stomach gives an involuntary flutter. I take a sip and have to suppress a moan of satisfaction. It’s perfectly made. “And you’re not wrong about Beliveau,” I add. “Total legend. But then again, you can’t beat Gretzky.”
I hope it isn’t too obvious that I’m talking out of my ass. I’ve heard the name Wayne Gretzky before, and I can probably fake my way through about thirty more seconds of this conversation, but if anyone asks me a specific follow-up question, it’s all going to be over.
Thankfully, my involvement in the conversation is stopped when Violet rolls her eyes and takes my hand.
“Don’t let them suck you in,” she whispers loudly, clearly for the guys’ benefit. “It’s not worth it, and you won’t change anyone’s mind anyway. Let’s go sit somewhere else, shall we? That way Callie and I can give you all the real dirt.”
“Dirt?” I make a show of looking between her and the team. “What dirt?”
“Oh, we know all the good stuff,” she says with a wicked laugh. “We’ll let you ask us all your burning questions about the Denver Aces. And unlike everyone else here tonight, we’ll actually tell you the truth.”
Reese groans at the same time Theo chuckles.
“You are so full of it.” Theo tosses back a sip of his drink before leaning back and running a hand through his short dark hair. “You don’t have any more dirt on us than those writers at the gossip magazines.” He shifts his focus to me, giving me a flirtatious wink. “If you want to know the real juicy stuff, come talk to me when you’re done with these two posers. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Everything?” I ask, raising a brow and hoping Noah notices.
“Everything,” Theo repeats back to me, and we smile at each other playfully for a second before Violet takes my arm and pulls me away. Callie comes too, and we find an empty table a few down from the one where the men are located and get comfortable.
“So, I take it you have a thing for bad boys?” she says as we sit down.
“Huh?”
“She’s talking about Theo,” Callie explains. “He’s sort of known for being the bad boy of the team. A little bit of a hothead.” My eyes go wide, and she quickly amends, “Oh, he’s not an asshole or anything. But I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about him. He just always seems to be in the middle of every fight that breaks out on the ice, that’s all.”
“Honestly, I think that’s all show,” Violet says. “Deep down, I think he’s actually a sweetheart. Although he would probably hate to hear me say so.”
“We just want you to know what you’re getting into.” Callie smiles at me. “Theo has a reputation, but then again, they all do.”
“Oh,” I say, trying to keep my expression neutral. “Um… good to know. But just for the record, I wasn’t trying to start anything with Theo. That was just some harmless banter.”
“Sure, sure.” Violet waggles her eyebrows. “No judgment here. It’s not like Callie and I are blind. We know the team is made up of a bunch of hotties. Except for my brother, of course.” She makes a face. “Bleh.”
“Reese is cute!” I say. “And he’s very nice. He seems like a great guy.”
Callie chuckles, glancing over at the handsome left winger. “He’s one of the best. We’ve been friends since before college.”
Ah. That explains her connection to the team, besides her obvious friendship with Violet as well.
I take another sip of my drink and have to make a conscious effort not to look to my left to see whether Noah is watching me. Then I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “So, spill some of this dirt you mentioned, because now I’m very curious.”
“What do you want to know?” Violet sits up straighter, spreading her hands out on the table in front of her as if setting the stage for all her gossip. “Or rather, who do you want to know about?”
The first name that comes to mind is Noah, but I’m still determined to keep my distance from that man, so I just shrug like I don’t care and say, “Tell me about them all. Getting to know the team is a big part of my job, so any insider information you have would actually be super helpful.”
Violet’s manicured fingernails drum against the table as she surveys the two tables where the men are sitting. “Right. Well… let’s see. We’ve already covered Theo. And Reese, he’s the nice one. Or at least, that’s what his fans on social media call him. I just call him a wildly overprotective older brother.”
“The hothead and the nice one,” I say, nodding. “And protective of his sister. I can work with that. Who else?”
Callie looks over her shoulder, her red hair glinting in the dim light of the bar. “I don’t see Maxim,” she mutters, lifting her head as she scans the rest of the bar. “But Sawyer is over there. Did you meet him?”
“Briefly.” I glance over at the man in question. He’s got a rugged, guy-next-door quality to him, like he could fix your plumbing or build you a bookshelf without breaking a sweat.
“He’s also very sweet, but more on the serious side. He’s a single dad, you know, but I wouldn’t go asking him about that until you get to know him better. From what I’ve heard, the divorce was pretty ugly.”
“Yikes.” I grimace. “That sucks. I didn’t know any of that. I wonder if he’d let me write about his role as a father and how it affects his choices on and off the ice, or if that would be too invasive.”
I tap a finger to my chin and log that piece of information in my brain for later. It could make for a very good father’s day post on the team’s Instagram page, if Sawyer wouldn’t mind opening up a little. But I’ll take Callie’s advice to heart and wait a while before broaching anything with him. I don’t want to overstep, and I’m sure he’s had to deal with a lot, between splitting up with his ex and managing life as a single dad.
“Who else are we missing?” Violet narrows her eyes in the team’s direction and then laughs. “Oh, duh. Grant.”
“Is Grant here?” Callie’s eyes widen. “He never comes out with the team!”
“Nah, he’s not here.” Violet flips her hair over her shoulder. “If he came to the bar tonight, I would be drinking a lot more because that would be a sign that the earth had stopped spinning, and that the world as we know it was about to come to an end.”
“What’s Grant’s deal?” I ask. “He’s the goalie, right? Why is he such a hermit?”
They both laugh. “That’s a very good way to describe him,” says Callie. “He’s a total hermit.”
“He’s nice enough when you can get him to talk to you. It’s just that he only thinks about hockey,” Violet elaborates. “Like, I’m not kidding. When he’s not playing or practicing, I swear he spends all his free time watching clips from old games and trying to figure out what he can improve on. I bet he even dreams about hockey.”
“He sets a really high bar for himself.” Callie scrunches up her face, making a little line appear between her eyebrows. “I feel kind of bad for him. I ran into him once after the Aces had a bad loss, and he was just totally beating himself up. Like it was all his fault and no one else’s.”
“Okay.” I nod, making another mental note. “That’s also good to know. I’ll try to remember not to ask Grant to take any photos or get a quote from him after a loss.”
“Yeah, definitely not.” Violet lifts her drink, which looks like some kind of dark beer. “Unless you think a picture of Grant looking like a sad puppy and a quote about how he blew it in the third period will help you get more followers.”
“You know, I don’t really think that’s the vibe we’re going for,” I say with a chuckle.
We talk for a while longer as they give me their hot takes on other members of the team. I’m having a hard time finding a way to bring up Noah’s name without it being obvious just how desperate I am to learn more about him, but eventually, I can’t avoid it anymore.
“So, what about the team captain?” I ask, trying to play it off like he only just occurred to me. “What’s he all about? Besides, you know, hockey and hookups.”
Callie smiles, making little dimples appear in the sides of her cheeks. “Noah Blake. Now he’s an interesting one.”
“He is?” I frown. “In what way?”
“He’s just a little more complicated than the tabloids make him seem,” she says, her green eyes turning a little thoughtful. “When Reese first got signed by the Aces, I wasn’t really expecting to like Noah because of what I’d heard about him. But when I actually met him in person, he was a total gentleman. He’s sweet and down to earth, and he’s a really good captain. Reese would follow him anywhere. He respects Noah a lot.”
“Huh.” I sit back and let this new information sink in. “That’s not what I expected to hear at all. I thought he was just your classic, cocky playboy type.”
“Oh, he is.” Violet shrugs, polishing off her beer. “He’s just also a nice guy. And a great captain. Reese says the team has a good chance of making the playoffs this year, and a lot of that is thanks to Noah.”
“Did I hear my name?”
I glance up to see the man himself approaching our table, and I mentally chastise my heart for skipping a beat. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt that’s just tight enough to show off his muscled shoulders and arms without being obnoxious, and I have a sudden unbidden memory of what it felt like to have those thick arms wrapped around me.
God, I wish I didn’t know how solid he feels. Or how good he smells.
I get a whiff of that same spicy aftershave that I remember from the elevator, something woody and warm, as he steps closer. He points to the open seat next to me on my side of the table, and I nod before I can stop myself. As he slides onto the seat, he sets a fresh drink down in front of me—another Manhattan with a cherry garnish.
“Yeah, you did hear your name. Were your ears burning?” Violet asks, a teasing note to her voice. “We were just telling Margo everything she needs to know about the team.” She arches a brow and deadpans, “You know, making sure she stays away from the ones who will give her trouble.”
Noah splays a hand over his chest, flashing an innocent smile. “I know you couldn’t possibly be referring to me. I would never get sweet Margo here into any sort of trouble.”
Violet laughs. “Funnily enough, we were actually just telling her the same thing. More or less.”
He shoots me a sidelong glance, something shifting in his expression that I hope like hell the other two ladies won’t be able to pick up on. “Were you, now? How interesting.”
“It’s really not,” I say, shutting him down even as I take a sip from the new drink he’s just brought me. “And don’t be too flattered. They were giving me the lowdown on everyone, not just you.”
“I see.” He’s still looking at me, his blue eyes way too perceptive. “Well, please, don’t stop on my account. I was actually about to get up and maybe hit the dance floor.”
“The dance floor?” Callie makes a confused face, her heart shaped mouth turning down in a small frown. “This place doesn’t have a dance floor.”
He grins. “Maybe that’s just because they haven’t been playing the right music.”
Just as he finishes speaking, I watch Noah give the bartender a look, and the man goes over to a tablet set up on the back counter. He taps the screen a few times, and all of a sudden the room is flooded with the opening chords of ‘All You Need Is Love.’
My eyes widen immediately in recognition, my heart lurching in my chest. Noah shoots me a tiny wink, but before I can say anything, a man wearing a red polo shirt and holding a pizza box walks directly over to our table.
“Pizza for Noah Blake?” he says, sounding a little confused. Now that I can see him up close, I realize he’s just a kid, and as he reads the name out from the receipt, his mouth falls open. He looks up at Noah, shock on his face. “Oh my god, you’re actually Noah Blake. As in, the Noah Blake. I can’t believe this!” He laughs. “My friends are going to lose their shit when they find out I delivered a pizza to the captain of the Denver Aces.”
Noah takes the pizza and puts it down on the table in front of me. The label on the box says Tino’s but I already knew it was from there. I could smell a Tino’s pizza from a mile away.
“You’d better get some photo evidence,” he says to the delivery boy. “Just in case they think you’re lying.”
The kid doesn’t hesitate. He pulls his phone out, and Noah poses for a selfie before tipping very generously and sending the teenager on his way.
“You had a pizza delivered here?” Violet grins. “I didn’t think they did that.”
“They usually don’t.” Noah grins. “But they made an exception.”
“Good, because I’m starving. We should get another round of drinks first. Callie, will you come with me?”
Callie nods, and the two of them make their way through the crowd toward the bar.
Noah and I watch them walk away, then he turns to me, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. “You can share if you want,” he tells me in a low voice. “But you know I got this for you, right?”
I nod, because how could I not? Callie and Violet might not know the significance of a pizza from Tino’s, but I do. Just like the Manhattans and the choice of music, this is his way of proving that he does know me… at least, a little.
Noah smiles, holding my gaze for just long enough to make butterflies erupt in my stomach. Then he grabs one of the napkins that came with the pizza and picks up a pen that the delivery guy left.
“Since you forgot to give me your phone number last time we met,” he murmurs. “Why don’t I just go ahead and give you mine, Sunflower?” He slides the napkin across the table to me and then straightens. “Enjoy your pizza.”
Then he walks away, heading back to join his teammates at the other table.
I look down at the pizza, the heavenly aroma of cheese and garlic filling my nostrils as the chorus of my favorite song blares from the speakers overhead. Then I laugh under my breath, shaking my head.
My plan to keep Noah Blake at arm’s length is going to be a lot harder than I originally thought.
