And when he pushes inside me, groaning my name, I have it. Everything that matters.
Or at least as close to everything as two people in our positions can get.
Chapter 16
Axel
Nora’s not in my bed.
It’s the first thing I think when I wake up and feel the cool sheets beside me.
The second is a string of expletives that slam into my consciousness with the disturbing force to knock me to my back as I press the heels of my hands to my eyes.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Except I know exactly what I was thinking.
Thank God she came.
Another night without her was going to kill me.
Nothing had ever felt as right as her stepping into my arms.
And right now, nothing has ever felt as wrong as her not being here.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand, pulling on the PJ bottoms I was wearing when she came to my door… and didn’t knock.
Last night, I sat up as soon as I heard the creak and give of the floor. I was out of my bed within her first retreating step. I couldn’t let her go.
I didn’t have to last night, but today, I will. Probably. Maybe.
Fuck.
After a quick brush of my teeth, I head out into the quiet apartment. Otto is still sleeping in ignorant baby bliss, totally unaware of what happened. That I might have done something to cost him the most constant presence in his life. Because that’s what Nora is. More than me, she’s the one who’s here for him.
And he’s supposed to get another two months with her. Time that’s precious to him. Fuck, time that’s precious to me. Except it’s not just about Otto. I don’t want to lose her.
Her friendship means something to me. More than I could have imagined it ever would.
Anxious, I look for her.
Nora’s not in her room, but I know she’s here. For now. She wouldn’t leave without talking to me.
I swallow hard.
She won’t leave at all.
Christ, I hope she won’t.
I find her in the living room, standing by the window with a mug of coffee in her hands. She’s wearing a pair of those wooly leggings she likes with a plain, white long-sleeve T-shirt. She’s beautiful, and my heart fucking aches seeing her there.
She looks over her shoulder and gives me a small smile I don’t know what to do with. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore and go to her, taking her coffee and setting it aside before gathering her into my arms. She melts into me, and, for a few heartbeats, it feels like I can breathe again.
“Tell me last night wasn’t goodbye.” Last night wasn’t about words, but today I need them. “Tell me you aren’t leaving.”
They aren’t questions the way I say them, but the way I mean them is like a plea.
Shaking her head, she peers up at me with a small smile. “It wasn’t goodbye. I’m leaving, but in the same way I was leaving yesterday.”
I nod, holding her closer, tighter. I don’t want to let her go, but if I keep this up, I’m going to be sliding my hands into her hair again, using my mouth in ways that don’t involve talking to convince her to stay.
Liking that idea way too much, I pull her with me over to our couch and onto my lap. “We need to talk.”
“I know we do. But I don’t know what to say.” She lets out a soft sigh. “A first for us.”
“It is. Even when we weren’t at our best, there’s never been a shortage of words between us.” I swallow. And I don’t want there to be one now, so I start. “Nora, last night was incredible. It was the kind of night that makes men reevaluate their priorities.”
I open my mouth to go on, to say the rest, only the “But” won’t come.
She rests her hand on my chest, her fingers so incredibly soft. “But neither of us are in a place where that’s really an option.”
It’s not far off from what I meant to say, and yet, hearing the words from her seems to lock up something inside me, like I can’t move past them.
“Axel, what do you want?”
I want her.
I want to go back in time and tell Dina no thanks, that I’d rather wait for the know-it-all to move in down the hall and change my life. I want the chance to fall in love with her when both our lives are still nothing but possibility. And when Diane tells her that she’s not coming back from France, I want Nora to laugh and say what perfect timing it is because she’s moving in with me. And then, when Otto comes, I want her to be by my side through those first terrifying hours. And I want her to want me still. I want her to want us.
But that’s not where we are. It’s not what happened.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to know I’m your friend and what happened last night doesn’t change that. Nothing will.” And then I tell her the part I really don’t want to say. “Not even if you decide you aren’t comfortable here anymore.”
I send up a silent prayer that’s not the case.
She blinks. “Do you want me to go?”
“No.” I cover her hand with mine, holding it against my heart. “That is the absolute last thing I want.” How can she even ask? “How about you? What do you want?”
Our eyes meet, and for a beat, it feels like the fate of my world hangs in the balance. God, the way she’s looking at me.
“I want—”
Otto’s sharp cry cuts off whatever she was about to say. She smiles, climbing off my lap and slipping her hand free from where I’m holding it.
“I guess I want to go see about getting Otto a fresh diaper.”
I stand with her. “You get his bottle, and I’ll handle the change. I need to get moving for morning skate here pretty quickly.”
We’re not done talking, but the rest is going to have to wait.
It’s a game day, and I’m grateful we’re at home.
I have breakfast with the team and Baxter. Listen to Rux wax poetic about some muffins Cammy made for the team but he accidentally ate. Grady keeps giving me the side-eye like he’s got some kind of sixth sense about my sex life. Which is disconcerting as hell.
I meet with the coaches and hit the ice. After, I talk with the press about what we’re expecting from tonight’s game and whether, as a new father, I’m getting enough rest.
I tell them yes because as a rule, it’s true. Sure, I got significantly less sleep last night than is ideal, but I know without question I got more than I would have if Nora hadn’t come to my room.
And I’m sharp.
Yeah, there’s a part of my mind that keeps circling back to Nora.
To the feel of her beneath me last night, the taste of her. The sounds she made when I pushed inside her tight body. The way she said my name. How fucking right all of it felt.
But most of all, I keep coming back to this morning. To the way she looked at me.
What was she going to say?
It’s after two when I get home, and Nora and Otto are at a baby group she connected with, so I climb into a bed that smells like her and knock off hard. When I get up, they’re back, but Otto’s gassy and crying, and we spend the little time I have left at home trying to console him.
True to her word, Nora gets a good burp out of him, and he settles down, but there isn’t time for the conversation we still need to have. So, I stick to the safe subjects. Like how the baby playdate worked out and if she got any sleep today. We talk, but every time her eyes meet mine, it’s like we’re right back to last night.