Back to Me (Carolina Rebels 1)

“So, what do you do? How did you wind up with Noah again?”

“I play tennis professionally, but currently, I’m an assistant coach at a local high school while I rehab my injury. I came here to be with him.” That will hopefully be enough because I don’t want to say more than that.

Thankfully, Noah comes to rescue me as Sylvia is preparing to ask yet another invasive question. “Sorry, ladies. I need my woman for a second.”

I give them a fake apologetic smile as he leads me away. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“You’re welcome. You’ll eventually learn how to hold your own with them. Sylvia, in particular, is extremely nosy. I’ll introduce you to more of the guys.”

“Wait,” I grab his arm to stop him. “What do you mean I’ll learn how? How often will I be around them?”

Noah shrugs. “Depends, I guess. We’re a team. We’re a family. That goes from the players to their individual families. If someone needs help, we all try to chip in. Some of the women like to get involved with the charities and community work the players do. When you go to games, you can sit in the box with the families. I’m with these guys from September to April at the very least. The women like to bond and now you’re a player’s girlfriend. It sort of comes with the territory.”

I nod, Noah grins, and he finishes leading me to the kitchen. Of course most of the guys are in here, devouring the finger foods set out.

“Meredith!” Marc shouts dramatically from across the room like I’m s

ome long-lost friend. He comes over, gives me a bear hug, and even twirls me around.

I can’t help but laugh. “You just saw me a few minutes ago,” I remind him.

He smacks a loud kiss on my cheek and grins. “I know, but I didn’t greet you properly.”

“Keep your mouth off my girlfriend,” Noah growls, playfully shoving Marc away from me.

“Give him a break, Rams. Marco probably hasn’t put that mouth on a woman in months,” one guy says, causing others to laugh.

Only, I frown in confusion. “Marco?”

Marc groans. “My last name’s Polinski, which is apparently close enough to Polo. Marco Polo. That was the nickname I was graced with.”

I bust out laughing.

“If you start calling me that, I’m cutting you off from my amazing personality,” he warns, causing me to giggle some more.

“I swear I’ll only call you by your name,” I promise. I don’t know if I would say Marc has an amazing personality, but I like him. Aside from Noah, he’s the next person I feel most comfortable with here. He has this calming quality about him. Conversation goes on a tangent, and I just listen and laugh as the guys rib each other with their jokes.

I observe as well. Gruff-voiced Brayden Hayes is mostly quiet, but the guys all listen when he speaks. Scott Boyd, Sylvia’s husband, obviously adores his wife, always giving her a quick kiss to her temple when she’s close enough. The guys call him Scotty. They have five-year-old twin girls; one is as shy as she can be, sticking by her father, while the other is outgoing, playing with the other children, like Ainsley, Liam Irving’s daughter. Those people stand out to me for some reason. Well, them and Marc, who tries his hardest to make the shy twin laugh.

There’s definitely a sense of camaraderie, even though a few of them keep to themselves. Maybe being included into Noah’s second family of teammates will be better than I thought it would be.

I rush home after work to shower and change into jeans, a cami, and my jersey. My stomach is a bundle of nerves, and I dumbly wonder if Noah has pregame jitters. Though, it is the first game of the season, so maybe he does. This is my first time seeing him play as a pro. Why am I so nervous? I may speed a little on my way to the arena and I rush to my seat.

I’m a little late, but they’re still in warmups. There seems to be a decent crowd here so far, but empty seats are easy to spot. I’ll have to ask Noah about the hockey fanbase here. Noah and Marc, I notice, aren’t wearing their helmets, their hair flying in the wind as they skate around, laughing. I’m surprised when Marc notices me first from my seat behind the goalie’s net. I know this because a puck hits the glass right in front of me, making me and the fans on either side of me jump, but there Marc is grinning like a goofball.

My glare isn’t enough, so I quickly flip him off. He winks and skates over. Marc removes his glove and crooks his finger for me to move my face closer to the glass. He acts as if he’s kissing my cheek and I roll my eyes. He doesn’t see Noah come up behind him to give him a shove. The grin on Noah’s face is all for me. I turn in a circle so he can see me in his jersey.

“I love you,” he says.

I grin. “Love you too. Now, go play.”

Warmups are officially over so he skates away and off the ice. The girls on either side of me seem to be dumbstruck for about two minutes before they ask me if I’m dating the Noah Ramsey. The smile can’t be wiped off my face as I answer with a simple yes.

Puck drops before I know it. Noah is way faster than I remember. I love watching him rush from one end of the ice to the other. Hearing the sounds of him ramming someone into the boards or vice versa? Not so fun to watch. I loved watching Vance play because you could see the strength in his body, but that’s nothing compared to watching Noah. I’m starting to think his nickname of Rams has more to do with his play than his last name.

Is it odd to say it’s a turn-on? Who cares at this point?

The crowd is loud and roaring every chance they get when the Rebels are up one to nothing, but things quieten drastically when the opposing team ties it up. Some, myself included, still cheer, but it’s when prompted by the screens above us. Then, I don’t know what happens, but there seems to be a shift in momentum and the crowd picks up on it. A nearly deafening “Let’s go Rebels” chant followed by two claps and three fast ones break out.