Awake At Dawn (Wildflower Series Book 2)

NOAH’S FACE APPEARED on the other side of the tempered glass in the last twenty minutes of practice. His lips pulled into a frown as he watched me with Chloe’s class, and I wondered what that look was for. I thought he’d be happy to see how good Chloe was doing.

As soon as I stepped off the ice, he didn’t waste any time telling me.

“That cannot be safe.”

Noah leaned against the boards, similar to how he did a couple weeks ago when we first met here. But he wore an entirely different expression this time.

“What?”

“You,” he said stiffly. “On the ice.”

“What did you expect? That I was coaching from the side of the rink?”

His brows tugged together as he scowled at me. His arms flexed as they crossed over his chest, and I found my eyes wandering the lines of his tattoos, like usual. “I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t think you’d be flying around like that.”

“Here at Back Bay Skating, our rink is incredibly safe, Mr. London,” I said, forcing my gaze away from his arms.

That scowl deepened. “Mr. London? Really?”

After ensuring all my skaters were busily unlacing their skates as they lined up on the benches, I walked toward the NFL player that all the moms in the building were staring at.

“Just being professional. You are here to pick up one of my skaters, aren’t you?”

“Professional?” Noah raised a brow, questioning me again. “We live together, Gems.”

“My brother calls me Gems. I told you not to emulate him.”

“We live together, Em,” he amended without missing a beat, his voice ghosting over the first and last letters of my name even though his lips seemed to form the whole thing.

“Shush,” I muttered once I got closer, realizing that more than one or two people had turned their heads in our direction. I wasn’t too worried about repercussions—Back Bay wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t a competitive club, just a place to come to learn. No one would care that I was living with a family member of a student, but I still didn’t feel the need to broadcast it. “People are looking, Noah.”

He lifted one shoulder, eyes smoldering as they wandered over me.

“I’m used to people looking.”

I mock gasped, lowering my voice. “You are a cocky asshole.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teased, his lips curving upward for the first time since he showed up. “We’ve been over this.”

“You’re right,” I said, switching to mock seriousness, “I should have known.”

Noah seemed to be surveying the stands behind me, not paying attention to my retort. His lips quickly descended into a frown, and with two quick strides, he switched his position to stand on the other side of me. I had to turn to keep facing him, and he gave a satisfied nod at the reorganization.

I cast him a confused look. “What was that?”

“You were right that people were looking. There was a row of dads staring at your ass.”

“They were not,” I argued, resisting the urge to look behind me and see for myself.

“They were, and I didn’t like it,” Noah grumbled. “I also don’t like this.”

He pointed at my feet, but my brows pulled together in confusion. “What?”

“This.” He waved his finger around again, still pointing at my feet. “This whole thing.”

“My skates?”

“Yeah, and how you wear them on ice.” He took his backward hat off, raking his hand through his hair before putting it back on. “Jesus Christ, it’s an accident waiting to happen.”

“I’ve been figure skating since I was Chloe’s age,” I laughed.

“Yeah, but now you’re pregnant,” he said, lowering his voice.

“And I have an excellent track record with very few accidents,” I replied.

Noah narrowed his eyes. “Did you tell your doctor what your job is?”

“Yes,” I said honestly. “She was not concerned. There isn’t a concern until⁠—”

“So there is a concern.”

“Again with the emulation of my brother,” I sighed, exasperated. No wonder Julian and Noah got along.

“Oh, your brother would have already carried you out of here if he realized you were walking around on the ice with tiny little blades on your feet while pregnant.”

“He would not have.”

That was a lie. He probably would have.

Which was another reason that Julian couldn’t know about my situation. He’d try to convince me to find a new job, and I didn’t want a new job. I loved working on the ice, and I loved being at Back Bay more and more every day.

“Ah, so that’s it. You just don’t want to get in trouble with my brother.”

Noah pretended to consider it. He was still trying to act annoyed, but the one thing I’d learned about Noah London was he didn’t know how to stay mad for long. “I can’t deny that it would be terribly bad for my career if all my fingers were broken.”

I clucked my tongue. “And here I thought you cared about me.”

His smile fell. “I sure as hell care about you more than some people.”

He hissed the words some people, and I knew precisely which some people he was referring to.

Or person.

I took back my earlier thought—Noah did know how to stay mad and hold a grudge. It just depended on the person.

I sucked in a breath, put off-kilter by how Noah looked at me. The intensity of his glare had returned, and even though I knew it wasn’t directed toward me, I still didn’t like to see it. I was a much bigger fan of seeing him smile.

“I’m going to keep skating until my bump is large enough to put me off-balance. Which will be months yet,” I explained, trying to put him at ease.

It didn’t work.

“Oh, so one day, you’re just going to topple right over, and that’s how you’ll know?” Noah readjusted his hat again, fidgeting. “Sounds like a great plan.”

“We can get ice cream on the way home, right?”

Chloe jumped into our conversation, which was probably good because the longer it continued, the more I felt like strangling her uncle’s neck.

“Of course we can get ice cream on the way home,” Noah said, his body visibly relaxing as he switched roles—from cocky alpha athlete to chill uncle in less than thirty seconds. “You deserve it after how amazing you did today, Lo. You should ask Coach B if she wants to come with us.”

Chloe’s eyes darted between me and her uncle, pure mischief in them. “Why don’t you ask Coach B if she wants to come with us?” she shot back before giggling and disappearing into the throng of eight-year-olds gathering their stuff.

Noah sighed heavily, his attention swiveling back to me. I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time Chloe had dropped some hints—ones that Noah obviously had no intention of picking up.

“Would you like to come with us to get ice cream?”

“Ice cream with the infamous Noah London twice in one week? I’m starting to feel special.”

He looked tempted to roll his eyes but didn’t. His lips twitched, though. I couldn’t tell if it was amusement or irritation. “I’ll even get you a triple scoop if you want.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I have another class in fifteen minutes.”

Noah nodded. “You’ll be home after that?”

“Yeah, I don’t have anything going on the rest of the night.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.” He started to back away, but that didn’t stop him from assessing me with a critical eye. “Be careful out there on that ice, Coach B.”

“I always am, Mr. London.”

His eyes narrowed in response, but I spun around before he could say anything. If he wanted to glare at something, he could glare at my backside.

Despite it being early evening when I walked home, the sun still shone bright and warm. If I could walk anywhere, I usually did. Juniper and I got into a car accident in high school, and ever since, I walked or biked whenever I could. I didn’t have a car anymore; I sold it as soon as I found out I was pregnant because one, I needed the money, and two, having a baby to keep safe only increased my anxiety around driving.

Neither Juni nor I had been badly injured in the car accident. I’d suffered a bad concussion and a broken collarbone, and she’d only needed a few stitches. But the ordeal spooked me all the same. If I could avoid planes or cars, I did. And if walking or biking wasn’t an option, I tried to take the commuter rail. It was definitely the best of all the choices, with it being on a set track, whereas planes were the worst. They made me feel trapped.

I walked into the apartment to find Noah in front of the stove. I wasn’t surprised, but I started salivating all the same. As if my hormones needed another reason to rage, Noah liked to cook. More specifically, he liked to cook for me. He’d made it his personal challenge to find foods I could stomach, and I appreciated it more than he could ever imagine.

Noah frowned at the chicken on the stove before swiveling his attention to me.

“How’s your nausea today?”

“It’s surprisingly good,” I said honestly, sliding onto the barstool to face him. There hadn’t been any impromptu breaks during my lessons today, no rushing to the toilets to toss my cookies. It gave me hope that maybe the nausea was lessening.

“Are you up for a little stir-fry?” Noah asked. I nodded, and he added, “Spicy? Or is it too much for your stomach?”

“Noah, I desperately need some spice in my life,” I laughed. “Add the spice.”

His eyes twinkled with humor, but he didn’t say anything. He nodded and moved to the fridge, pulling out the veggies.

“This meal should be rich with folic acid,” Noah explained. “They say that’s important in the first trimester.”

“They?” I questioned, raising a brow. I already knew the answer, though.

“The internet,” he said, a bit sheepishly. He shrugged, and I had to bite down on a smile. “I learned only a little bit about pregnancy when Nat had Chloe—not as much as I probably should have. I was finishing college in California, and she was on the East Coast finishing med school when she was pregnant. I should have tried harder to be there for her, especially now that I know how poor of a support Chloe’s dad was.”

“I think you’ve more than made up for it with how you’re here for her and Chloe now,” I assured because it sounded like he needed it. “Can I help cook?”

“No,” he said simply. Like I knew he would. “Here, eat some peanuts while you wait.”

Another laugh burst out of me as Noah slid the largest container of peanuts I’d ever seen across the counter.

“Who on earth needs this many peanuts?” I exclaimed, struggling to tame my amusement.

“You do,” he said, pointing at me with the knife he’d pulled out to cut vegetables. “They’re a good source of folic acid.”

I shook my head with a smile as I screwed off the lid of the container. I wasn’t about to argue with him while he was waving that kitchen knife around like that. But before I could dig into the peanuts, my phone started vibrating in my pocket, and when I pulled it out, my smile vanished.

It was Silas.

Silas Taylor was calling me.

I let it ring, staring at his name on the screen until it vanished, going to voicemail. Relief spread through me, but then my phone lit up again.

Across from me, Noah froze. His frenzied cutting ceased.

“You don’t have to pick it up,” he said, his voice suddenly cold.

“This is the second time he’s called,” I said hoarsely, watching as the phone went to voicemail again.

No more than three seconds passed before he was at it again, calling for a third time.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Noah offered. “I’d be happy to tell him to back the fuck off.”

I shook my head while sucking in. No, I had to do this. Like it or not, Silas and I were now tied together, and I’d have to learn how to deal with him.

I accepted the call.

“What do you want, Silas?” I sighed, ready to get to the point and get this over with.

“Finally,” he exclaimed, irritation coating his voice. Somehow, it was satisfying. “Would you open your goddamn door?”

I stiffened. “My door?”

“Yes, your door. I’m outside of it.”

“At my apartment?” I clarified, my thoughts racing at what he was implying. He’d gone to my apartment?

“Yes. Jesus Christ, Gemma.”

How dare he have the audacity to sound annoyed when he showed up at my apartment without any warning or indication that we would stay in touch. He was the one who said he wanted nothing to do with me—with us.

“I’m not there,” I said coldly.

“I can hear voices inside,” Silas replied flatly.

“I moved.”

My eyes flicked up to Noah’s, which was a mistake. His gaze was nothing short of murderous as it trained on my phone. That look of his made my stomach flip, my heart race.

“You moved?” Silas exclaimed before swearing under his breath. “Well, where are you? We need to talk.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about,” I said, mimicking his flat tone from earlier, which annoyed the hell out of me. “You said you didn’t want to be involved. So go be uninvolved, and don’t fucking bother me again, Silas.”

With that, I hung up the call, my hands shaking as I put the phone back on the countertop. I stared at it, waiting to see if he would call back.

He did, of course he did.

The ringtone was jarring. I saw Noah jolt out of the corner of my eyes at the sound. His hand flexed like he wanted to grab the phone himself, but I beat him to it, silencing the call.

And when several slow seconds had passed without seeing his name pop up again, I let my shoulders relax slightly. Let my heart rate return to its normal tempo.

Until a voicemail notification popped up, and my stomach turned.

“A man like that shouldn’t be allowed to procreate,” Noah grunted before resuming his task of chopping vegetables. He seemed to be using extra force as he slammed his knife through a bell pepper.

“Agreed,” I muttered, swiping to open the notification and reading the transcript of the voicemail, which mostly detailed how Silas wanted to ensure I was going to keep my mouth shut about our situation. Fuck him. I threw my phone back down. “There should be some kind of rule that a guy has to at least be able to get a girl off before he can impregnate her.”

Noah chuckled softly, that spark of humor slowly returning to his eye. “That bad, huh?”

I shrugged, having blocked the entire night out of my brain. There definitely hadn’t been any mind-blowing orgasms, though.

“Never settle for someone who can’t find your clit, Gemma,” he said with a little tsk.

Noah London saying the word clit made my cheeks flame.

“First, I didn’t plan on sleeping with him,” I said hotly—though I couldn’t help a smile. Not when Noah smirked at me like that. “Second, how was I supposed to know he couldn’t find it? It’s not like I give guys a questionnaire before going out with them.”

Noah stilled slightly at my first comment but didn’t say anything other than, “Maybe you should.”

“I doubt they’d answer honestly.”

“It might still give you some insight,” Noah offered, but I saw that teasing crease around his eyes.

“I’ll work on developing that, then. You can review it for me and give me some feedback.”

“Well, it’s all about your personal sexual priorities,” he tossed back, eyes skating over me, making me feel hot from across the countertop. By the time his gaze connected with mine, I could barely breathe. “And since I don’t know those, I might not be of much help.”

He said that last sentence like he wouldn’t mind finding out, but I was sure that was just Noah being Noah. He had a playfulness to him that I found overwhelmingly confusing at times.

“Eat the peanuts, Em,” he demanded, jerking me out of my thoughts.

That was the second time he’d used a nickname today, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit fuzzy and warm at the familiarity. Noah’s head tipped down as he concentrated on the vegetables, so I didn’t bother trying to hide my smile as I scooped out a handful of peanuts.

I might not be getting any action these days, but I did get a front-row view of Noah London cooking me dinner. And that was a hell of a lot better than sex with Silas Taylor or any other guy I’d slept with.

I popped a peanut in my mouth, and Noah looked up with a smile.

“Good girl,” he muttered.

My poor hormones never stood a chance.

“I’m getting together with Julian soon,” he said, almost like a reminder to both of us that my brother was one of his best friends. And maybe we shouldn’t be talking about my sexual priorities. “Juniper said she needs help keeping him busy when the two of you go to her bridal fitting. He’s trying to tag along.”

“Of course he is.” I rolled my eyes.

“I think we’re getting brunch. It’s going to be weird,” Noah said, keeping his eyes on his cutting board. “Not telling him about this.”

He didn’t have to explain what this was.

“I know,” I acknowledged. “And I’m sorry. It’s weird keeping things from Juni, too. I’m a little nervous about seeing her.”

Noah’s gaze lifted, and even though it shone with understanding, I could also tell he didn’t quite know why I was insisting on keeping everything a secret.

“Her bridal fitting should be all about her,” I explained, pleading slightly for him to get it. “Not my surprise pregnancy.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “We’ll get through it, then.”

And once again, Noah’s assuredness made me believe it.

We’d get through it.