Home (Birmingham Hornets Book 1) by Camellia Tate

Author:Camellia Tate [Tate, Camellia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Scarlett

Not having seen Libby and Amy since we went out to celebrate my promotion, it felt like the right time to have them over for some drinks. Libby joked that the promotion must have made me so busy that I no longer had time for them. It made me feel guilty, but, in some ways, that wasn’t too inaccurate to what was happening.

Of course, it did make me think of how I had managed to find time for Noah’s party and to do Ellie’s birthday, not to mention the art class…

But it was easy to not tell the girls about those.

“I’ve made Sangria,” I announced, setting the jug down. My living room was nicely warmed by the sun, which felt lovely inside but definitely wasn’t warm enough to sit outside.

“And we wouldn’t want to interrupt him,” Amy commented, making me frown. I followed her gaze and there he was — Noah — doing yoga on the patio. Apparently, it wasn’t so cold that he needed anything more than the world’s tightest shirt and similarly tight yoga pants.

“Wow,” Libby breathed. It was hard to disagree.

“So, um, yeah.” I cleared my throat. “That’s Noah. He moved in next door a couple of months ago.” It felt crazy to think that it was so long ago already and yet time seemed to just rush past.

“Now I understand why you invited us,” Amy teased, her gaze glued to the way Noah’s glutes flexed as he moved from one pose to another.

Part of me felt almost defensive, like I ought to warn him that I had company. Company who were apparently happy to ogle his arse in lycra.

Noah would probably just think it was funny. He didn’t seem to mind being the centre of attention.

“So does he do that a lot?” Libby asked, her eyes wide.

Sadly, the answer was ‘no’. Which in some ways made me wonder why he had decided to do it now. Not that it really mattered. It was, of course, his outside space as much as it was mine. I, too, might do some yoga there but I’d want to pick a warmer day.

“Um, no,” I answered, pouring us all the Sangria. “He’s a hockey player,” I explained. “Plays for the Hornets.” That earned an ‘ooh’ from both Amy and Libby, neither of whom followed ice hockey but both knew of the Hornets.

“And is he single?” Amy asked.

If I’d thought my defensiveness had risen before, it was nothing in comparison to the way it spiked at that comment. But it wasn’t my place to get jealous.

“As far as I know,” I said before taking a sip of the drink to mask the blush that spread across my cheeks, just a tint that could now easily be ascribed to the red wine.

“Mmm,” Libby hummed. “That makes me feel better about looking, knowing I’m not eyeing someone else’s man.”

My tongue darted out, chasing a drop of wine across my lips.

“What’s he like?” Amy asked, turning her attention back to me. “I mean, you haven’t complained, so I assume he’s not making your life miserable.

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