“Smart woman.” I smirk, resting my chin on my elbow against the counter.
“Yeah.” He chuckles, but it’s a weighted sound that makes me look from the food to him.
A small frown creases his forehead, but he doesn’t say anything, so I don’t ask what brought them there.
I want to, but don’t.
“Where are your plates and stuff?” I push up. “Least I can do is get those ready.”
“There’s a stack of paper plates above the microwave. Hope that works for you.”
“My mom said she had children so she didn’t have to wash dishes ever again. So yeah, paper plates are perfect.” I laugh and he joins in.
“Smart woman.”
“Right? It was a joke, but I can see the appeal.”
Noah chuckles as he turns the burner off and rinses his hands in the teeny sink next to the teeny stove. “Want to grab some drinks and I’ll clean off the coffee table so we can eat more comfortably?”
“Yep.” I set the paper plates next to the stove, my eyes flicking to the small table against the wall. It’s a two-seater table, not quite big enough to fit Noah’s long legs under, let alone a second person’s.
“This place is pretty dope,” I shout. “From the outside, you’d never know it was here.”
He steps from around the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room. “Yeah, my coach calls it the perks of being team captain, but sometimes the space isn’t worth all the shit I have to deal with in the house. It does make it easier to try and keep the first years in semi-check, though.”
“So, you’re basically the designated party pooper?”
“Nah.” He pours the pasta into a large bowl and nods his head, motioning for me to walk ahead of him.
Snatching the plates, I lead us into the living room, listening as he explains further.
“I let them have their fun, it’s a part of the whole experience they earned by getting here. As long as they’re respectful and keep it to a minimum through the week, they know Saturdays are usually their free nights to live it up.”
I nod and take the seat next to him on the corduroy-looking couch, setting our drinks down.
“Now in the off season…” He shakes his head with a grin. “It gets a bit wild.”
“I bet.” I kick off my slides, folding my legs up. “Spring back home was nuts, but definitely more fun around the house. The boys weren’t so strict on themselves since football was over, which meant they weren’t so hard on us.” I shake my head with a grin. “Not that football was ever really ‘over.’ There were always camps or something or another, but no actual games meant we could party a bit.”
“Yeah, light training and no coach on your ass.” He laughs. “I’m just glad there’s a door at the bottom of the stairs instead of the top. Keeps the wild ones away, and I don’t have to worry about drunk people falling down and busting their heads open when they’re lost looking for the bathroom.”
“Come on.” He nudges my shoulder. “Scoop your plate first, so I feel like a gentleman.”
Leaning forward, I do as he asks, admitting, “And I was over here trying to be polite by waiting for your go-ahead, but fair warning, I’m known to eat like a man, so no judging.”
He chuckles. “Wouldn’t dare.” He clicks on the TV, turning down the volume, leaving reruns of The Office to play quietly around us.
Food piled high on my plate, I chew on the inside of my lip. “Thank you for this, Noah.”
“Juliet, look at me.”
My eyes slide his way and he smiles.
“Stop thanking me like I’m doing you a favor. I’m not. I saw you sitting there with Brady the second I stepped through the door. Went in specifically to find you, if you really want to know, and I was about to walk over to ask if you wanted to hang for a while when I saw Mason and Chase slip up behind you. All they did was beat me to the starting line.” He looks back to his food, and then, as if deciding to go with his last thought, he hits me with a sly grin. “Looks like I won.”
My hand comes up to cover my mouth as I laugh, and I flick my eyes to his. “So what you’re saying is… I’m looking at a winner?”
He turns to me with a mouth full of food and winks, pleased with my lyric of choice.
Giddy, I focus on my meal.
It seems Noah gets me.
I think I like that.
Once we’ve eaten, Noah tosses our plates into the trash and comes back to join me on the couch.