Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Harrison crosses his arms and glares at me. We’re about the same height, but right now I feel like I’m two feet shorter. “And if I say no?”
“Um… If you say no, I will do whatever I have to in order to prove to you that Peyton is the love of my life. I love her, Harrison. I mean, sir.”
He stands there staring at me. I don’t know for how long, but it’s enough for my stomach to heave and my bladder to beg for relief.
“Are you sleeping with my daughter, Noah?”
Kill. Me. Now.
“No, sir.”
“Waiting for marriage?”
Please don’t tell me to wait.
“If you tell me so, yes we will.”
He nods and runs his hand over his face and adjusts his beanie. “Honestly, Noah, you’re not who I pictured as someone my daughter would be interested in, but I know for a fact she loves you, and I’m not really one to stand in the way of love, so you have my blessing. But, if you hurt her--”
“I won’t.”
Harrison steps closer. “Remember, I know where you live,” he says as he pulls me into his arms. “Let me just say, it’s about damn time.”
I don’t know if I should rejoice or be relieved. I do know Harrison can hug and is squeezing the life out of me right now. “Can’t breathe,” I eek out. He finally lets go and starts laughing.
“That was your one and only warning. Don’t mess this up.”
He puts his arm around me and takes me back into the dressing room. Everyone is looking at us with expectant eyes, but he goes right to Katelyn and pulls her into his arms and whispers into her ear. She looks over and smiles, before rushing over to give me a hug.
“I’ve known it all along,” she whispers in my ear. “Hold onto her, Noah.”
“I plan to,” I say back to her.
33
Peyton
The humidity is stifling and the usual breeze that makes Chicago windy is nowhere to be felt. When Professor Fowler asked if I could come see him, I jumped at the opportunity. Not only to get away from California but to also give Noah and I a weekend alone.
Our relationship is progressing…slowly. I don’t know if he’s scared to touch me, thinking I might fall apart or if he’s afraid of my parents. The latter is a bit far-fetched because I know he went and asked my dad for permission to date me. It may have been a bit old-fashioned, but to me it was perfect.
It also made sense for Noah to come with me. His season will be starting soon, and we’ll see less and less of each other, although he’s promised to move to Chicago. I don’t want to burden him, but on the other hand, I want him near me as much as possible.
As our driver takes us toward my campus, I point out landmarks to Noah, along with my favorite coffee shop and where I watch the games on the weekends. He seems interested in every spot, even if he’s only doing so to placate me. It’s times like this where I question the age difference and wonder if Noah will stick around. I know I shouldn’t second-guess what he tells me, but I do, and it’s for obvious reasons. I mean, look at the man! He’s gorgeous, sexy, and unbelievably sweet. He cares for me, showers me with love, but so reserved when it comes to affection.
Maybe he’s waiting for a sign, for the sky to open and start raining Peytons. Or footballs would be a better fit for us. Short of throwing myself at him, I don’t know what else to do.
Elle thinks he’s scared because of the Dessie mess. I get that, I do. But I’m not Dessie. I have no desire to trap Noah, and honestly, I feel like I don’t have to. He’s in love with me and while he knows I love him, I haven’t told him yet. Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for.
Noah opens his door as soon as the car comes to a stop. He reaches in and seeks my hand in order to help me out. Aside from the humidity, I love being back in Chicago. I turn my face toward the mid-day sun and close my eyes. Not only am I back on campus, but Noah’s here and that means everything to me.
With our hands joined, I direct him toward the journalism building. When Fowler called, I thought he was going to tell me I’d been kicked out of the program. It would make sense considering the amount of work I missed, despite trying to keep up online. My grades weren’t on par with what they had been before my accident and I petitioned the school to make them void in exchange for going for another year. This should’ve been the decision I made from the start, but I was stubborn and thought I was mentally strong enough to not only recover from my life-threatening injuries but also carry a full workload. I was so wrong.