Awake At Dawn (Wildflower Series Book 2)

NOAH HAD A home game the next week, and as much as I wanted to go watch him, I didn’t have anyone to go with.

I mean, I was sure Juniper would have gone with me if I’d asked. Or Julian. Or my dad. Or any of my sisters. But then I’d have to answer a lot of questions about why I wanted to go to a Knights’ game on a random Monday night. Especially after I’d been avoiding all of those people. Julian, especially. He’d tried to call a few times since his bachelor party, and I’d dodged them all as I tried to work out a way to tell him I was pregnant.

So with no one to go with to the game and Noah insisting I shouldn’t go alone as much as he wanted me there, I was left watching it on TV.

There was something about that, though. I watched this mouthwatering man on TV and then saw him come to life as he walked in the door hours later. I watched him strut around for the cameras in those tight pants before he came home and let me strip his clothes off him.

Yeah, I couldn’t really complain.

It went on like that for a couple of weeks. We fell into a routine similar to before, with him leaving for games and me going to the rink and watching Winnie.

Sometimes Chloe came home with me after practice, and the three of us—well, four if you included Winnie—had movie nights. And when Noah was out of town, Chloe and I would make more forts while she told me all the secrets of elementary school.

I quickly learned that elementary school sounded exhausting. Or maybe it was more that eight-year-olds themselves were exhausting. Sometimes, anyway.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

Tonight, I watched my group of eight-year-olds fly around the ice, thinking that maybe—just maybe—Noah was right. Maybe this was a little risky.

Chloe was actually the one who nearly ran into me tonight. She’d been practicing her backward one-foot glide a moment ago when she caught an edge and toppled toward me instead. I’d caught and straightened her back up without incident, but only because I’d been watching carefully while she tried to master the skill. What if I’d had my back turned when it happened, watching another learner? What if while I’d been watching her, someone else lost control?

I wasn’t sure why my anxiety around skating had heightened recently, but I couldn’t deny that it had. Maybe Noah had just gotten that deep into my head, or maybe it had to do with how my pregnancy felt different now. I could feel Baby in a way I hadn’t been able to before. Not to mention my reflexes felt more delayed, and my ankles were slightly more swollen than normal.

“I’m sorry, Gemma,” Chloe said. Again.

She sounded dejected, and I worked my face into a smile, realizing that while I’d been lost in my thoughts, my expression had likely shown all of them. And the last thing I wanted to do was make Chloe feel bad. She’d been trying so hard to work toward learning her spins.

“Lo, stop apologizing,” I said, waving off her worries with a grin. “Let’s see you give it another go, huh? You got this.”

On the other side of the rink, I heard Sadie give a similar pep talk to a few of our other students. This was one of our biggest groups, so I was glad to be tag teaming this session with her tonight. Keeping track of, coaching, and giving feedback to this many seven- and eight-year-olds as they progressed through their basic skills on the ice was proving to be challenging. Definitely a different experience than working with college students.

“Coach B!” Amber, the little blonde girl that Noah saw practically run me over last month, yelled my name in excitement. “How was that? Did you see that? Here, let me do it again. Okay?” Words continued to tumble out of her before I had a chance to respond to any of them.

“Slow down,” I laughed. “I’ll be right there, okay? I’m going to watch Chloe, and then I’ll be right there to see you rock that spin again for me.”

She nodded, delight blazing in her crystal-blue eyes. She was a tiny rocket of energy, and it pushed me to my limits to keep up with her—with all of them—but I loved it.

I watched Chloe nail her glide and then watched Amber do the same with her spin, and before I knew it, it was time to pull everyone off the ice, ending our class time.

Natalie sat on the end of the spectator bleachers, and I gave her a wave as we exited, pointing Chloe in her direction before doing the same for the rest of the skaters, helping them find the adult waiting for them. When everyone was accounted for, I paused to put my skate guards on—a task that was growing a hell of a lot harder to do. I was damn near out of breath by the time I finished and made it over to Noah’s sister.

“Chloe did really good today. She’s been working so hard,” I said, wanting to gush to Natalie while Lo could hear me.

Natalie smiled, but I could tell from her teasing grin she was about to ruin the whole reason I came over here.

“I saw her almost take you⁠—”

“By surprise with how good she’s getting, right?” I cut in, trying to give Natalie a look that I hoped she’d understand.

“Yeah, she’s doing great,” Natalie said warmly, picking right up. Her cheeks indented in amusement as she glanced at her daughter, who sat on the bleachers beside us while she removed her skates. “And how are you doing?” Natalie asked when her attention turned back to me.

“Oh, I’m doing…I’m doing good.” I gave her a shaky grin, unsure how to really answer that. I was doing good, all things considered. But it was mostly because of her brother. And his talents in the bedroom. Or on the couch. Or in the kitchen.

Because he really was a good cook. Among other things.

But I couldn’t tell Natalie any of that.

Even though we had grown closer. When Noah was gone, I’d grown to rely on his sister to keep my head on straight. Even though I knew she must be ten times more exhausted than I was, Natalie would sit and chat with me when she’d pick Lo up from the apartment or from the rink, like today. And her genuine kindness and no-nonsense attitude made me feel more at ease. More normal. Like it was okay to be unbelievably tired. And worried. And scared about what was ahead of me.

“Noah doesn’t think you should be skating anymore,” Natalie said, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

I blinked, surprised she brought up Noah when we usually skirted around anything to do with her brother. She’d never once asked what was going on between us. Never pried or questioned our relationship. So this was a surprise.

Although not really a surprise, considering how often Noah brought up skating. And how he’d rather I wasn’t doing it.

“Oh my God,” I groaned. “Is he bugging you about it, too, now?”

“He wanted my professional medical opinion about your safety on the ice,” Natalie replied, using air quotes as she mimicked her brother.

I rolled my eyes. “What did you tell him?”

“That it isn’t exactly my field of expertise. I’m not a skater, nor am I a gynecologist. And if your doctor said it was okay, then I would trust their opinion.”

“I’m sure Noah loved that answer.”

“He definitely did not,” she laughed. Her mouth opened and closed like she wanted to say—or ask—something else, but Chloe took that opportune moment to stand, skates in her arms, looking like she was ready to go.

“Well, I’ll see you both later,” I said, more than okay with cutting this conversation short before it ended with questions I didn’t know how to answer.

“Say hi to Uncle Noah for me!” Chloe piped in, giving me a look that said she thought she knew exactly what was going on.

My chest ached. Because honestly, I wished that what she thought was true.

“I will,” I assured her before saying goodbye to Natalie and going to collect my own things.

I wasn’t quite ready to head home, though. My mind felt unsettled today, and after I wrestled to get my skates off my slightly swollen feet, I made my way through the rink’s complex to the gym, hoping a workout might help both my physical and mental health.

I was determined not to lose myself to this pregnancy. Even if it started to feel uncomfortable. Even if, for some reason, my nose kept bleeding at the oddest times, and I’d swapped nausea for heartburn. Even when the worries started to mount and my bank account wasn’t increasing fast enough.

Tossing my stuff by the door, I was happy to find the gym empty. I squatted in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, using the resistance bands for a few lateral walks and popping my headphones in.

It felt good to relax into familiar movements and memories as I listened to music from old skating routines. It helped me feel like me, even though a whole other human was invading my body. And while I didn’t have much energy, I was sure it was more than I’d have after the baby came.

Plus, it was a good distraction from how badly I wanted my roommate.

It was concerning. How much I’d grown accustomed to him. Living with him. Sleeping with him. Kissing him.

I was falling for Noah London.

Enough that I wondered if I should either tell him the truth or end whatever was going on between us.

But I couldn’t tell him—not when I didn’t know how he felt or what he wanted. Because knowing Noah, he would give me what I wanted, even if it wasn’t what he wanted, even if it caused him personal sacrifice. And it just wasn’t fair to put that kind of pressure on him. He didn’t do relationships. Let alone relationships that involved a baby. It wasn’t fair of me to suddenly ask for more when he’d already given me so much. I should just be happy with what we had. And I was, I really was.

I couldn’t tell him the truth.

But I also couldn’t end it.

Simply for the fact that it was too good. It was so, so good.

But probably more concerning than any of that was how with everything else going on, I’d kept from doing the one thing I promised myself I would: tell my family about my pregnancy.

Because the little bubble I was living in felt really good. Really, really good. I was so scared for it to pop.

I took a deep breath, letting the music fill my ears and memories take me away. But even skating memories couldn’t ease my mind. I missed the girls from St. Mav’s. And I was worried about them.

After learning I was pregnant, I cut off all contact with them. It was just easier that way. I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone from St. Mav’s what had happened with Silas, and I knew there would likely be hell to pay from him if I did. But now that the shock had worn off, guilt was seeping in.

Guilt from ghosting everyone. Guilt from running from a job I loved because a man couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Guilt from the realization that if Silas did what he did to me, he could do it to someone else.

I owed closure, both to myself and my family at that college.

But that meant leaving my comfortable little bubble. The one I was afraid to pop.

I focused on my movements, trying to force everything else out. In my mind, I was performing a Salchow in the middle of the rink, but then a glimpse of Noah in the mirror popped me back into the present. He stood behind me, leaning against an exercise rack.

Why is Noah here?

I ripped off my headphones with a breathless “Hi.”

“Hey, angel,” he said, his smooth voice taking me back to last night when he murmured dirty things in my ear while I came on his fingers.

It wasn’t just his voice, though. Everything about how he looked at me right now had my pulse picking up—the combination of those soft, green eyes and his tense, tight expression.

“How’d you find me?” I asked, letting the resistance bands drop to the floor and stepping out of them.

“I asked that other blonde coach where you were. Sadie, right?”

I nodded, still shocked that he was here. I looked around, double-checking that no one else had slipped into the small gym while I wasn’t paying attention. But no, it was just the two of us. We were alone.

“Natalie picked Chloe up from practice,” I said, my brows drawing inward as I checked my watch for the time. “Did she not tell you?”

He walked toward me with a casual, relaxed stride. God, he was so effortlessly hot.

“I’m not here for Chloe.”

I frowned. Noah had never before come to the rink unless it was to get Chloe.

“I’m here because you weren’t home yet,” he added as if it were really that simple.

I balked at him for a second. “I was going to come home after my workout.”

“I got impatient.” He stopped about a foot away and gave the tiniest shrug. His eyes evaded me. “Why didn’t you want to work out at the apartment?”

“There’s some equipment here that I like to use that you don’t have in your gym.”

He looked offended by that, his head quickly turning on a swivel as he did a keen inspection, searching the gym for the equipment I might be referring to.

When he couldn’t figure it out, he said, “Tell me what it is, and I’ll get it for you.”

He was kidding, right?

“Noah, don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not a big deal, Em,” he replied earnestly. “I’m a professional athlete. Expanding my home gym is a logical investment for me to make.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “I just don’t want you buying anything strictly for me when I’m not even going to be living with you two months from now.”

Noah stiffened. Just for a moment. I wouldn’t have even caught his change in body language if I hadn’t gotten so good at reading and watching him.

“And since I only have two months left with you, I want to be greedy,” he continued, his voice suddenly sounding rough around the edges. Demanding, like how he spoke in the bedroom. “I want you to work out where I can be with you.”

It took me a second to find my voice. “We both know if we work out together, it’ll get derailed by sex.”

“Does that sound so bad?” Noah smirked, and when I just shook my head with a grin in response, he added, “The first time we worked out together, I nearly lost my shit. You were wearing that same tight little set, and I didn’t know how to be around you.”

His eyes raked over me, and I realized I was wearing the same outfit I had been in his gym that day. I couldn’t believe he remembered that.

“Looks like you’ve figured it out,” I laughed, but it came out choked. “How to be around me.”

“I’m still losing my shit,” he said, lifting a brow. “I just don’t care if you see how hard you make me anymore.”

I glanced down, and sure enough, Noah had a tent in his sweatpants that made my mouth water.

“And you give me shit about being insatiable,” I teased, trying to ignore the slow coiling of heat in my gut as I turned to look at myself in the mirror. The matching olive-green spandex covering my body was stretched further than it ever had been before. “This set doesn’t look as good on me now as it did then.”

Noah groaned behind me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I cocked my head to the side, still appraising my outfit. And my body—the changes to it. “No?”

I mean…it was obvious.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah step closer to me in the mirror. He looked determined as he settled his hands on my hips. Leaning in, he brushed his lips down the curve of my neck.

“Noah…” I protested weakly.

“I love watching that pretty flush color in the spaces between your freckles,” he murmured. “I like when I know it’s because of me.”

“You really are feeling greedy today,” I said, my breaths quickening even though I hadn’t moved a muscle since I saw Noah appear behind me.

“Not just today.” His grip on my hips tightened as he breathed against my skin. “Always, angel. For you? Always. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of you. So don’t you dare say shit like you just did.”

My chest tightened at his words because they were exactly how I felt. I always wanted more of him. Always needed more of him. And it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He trailed his lips to my shoulder before his gaze lifted, meeting mine in the mirror. “Remember when you said your tits were only going to get bigger?” he murmured. I nodded, and his lips moved to my ear, murmuring huskily into it. “Well, you were right. And I’m fucking obsessed.”

“But—”

“No buts.”

They may be bigger, but they were also sensitive and covered with stretch marks.

“But—”

He slapped a hand over my mouth, startling me. It shot a heated awareness through my body—awareness that only Noah knew how to summon. “What did I say, Em?”

I rolled my eyes, and his eyes hardened.

“I think you need a little lesson this afternoon,” he declared, all gravel and grit. He dropped his hand to whip off his T-shirt. “Show me your wrists.”

My mouth ran dry as I obediently did as he said. I didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but I couldn’t find it in me to protest. Not when he talked to me like that. And not when he looked like that.

His lips twitched, and I could tell he was pleased I’d listened without arguing. “God, you’re—” He broke off with a shake of his head, and then his eyes met mine as he took hold of both of my wrists within one of his hands, gripping them together. His gaze sought permission. “Yes?”

“Yes,” I gasped, not sure entirely what I was consenting to but knowing I couldn’t be any safer than with Noah. He’d been my saving grace over the last few months. He always knew when to let me lead and when I needed a push.

I supposed today he thought I needed a push.