A Shot at Love

Empire State of Mind

"Come here, baby," Noah says softly, flipping up the armrest between us and pulling me snug against him. His hand drapes over my shoulder, holding me close. "I want you to see the city."

We've been cruising at 40,000 feet aboard Sports Digest's private jet for the past four and a half hours—me buried in World Series prep, him strategizing for Monday's board meeting. But at his words, I close my laptop with a soft click and turn toward the window.

My breath catches.

The city sprawls beneath us, a sea of twinkling lights.

Gasping, I snuggle closer, inhaling Noah's scent—clean, crisp, and undeniably him.

"Noah, this is breathtaking," I whisper, my voice full of wonder as we soar through the clouds, the Big Apple shimmering just beyond the horizon.

"I know," he murmurs, but he's not looking at the city.

He's looking at me.

The intensity in his gaze sends a ripple through me like I'm the only thing worth seeing. He doesn't waver, doesn't look away.

A slow smile tugs at his lips. "Are you ready for tonight?" he asks, his arm resting easy around me.

"Yes, I am so excited—words don't even do it justice!" I tuck my legs up, my green-and-white Air Jordans peeking out as my white sweatpants and matching sweatshirt melt into Noah's embrace. "But can I be honest?"

Noah's hand curves around my waist, slipping beneath my sweatshirt. His touch is warm, his fingertips skimming my skin, sending a rush of butterflies to my core. "Always," he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I take a shaky breath. "I'm incredibly nervous. Like, heart-racing, might-pass-out-from-excitement, about-to-have-sex-for-the-first-time nervous. In the best way."

The words tumble out before I can stop them, and I let out a nervous giggle.

Noah freezes. His eyes widen slightly as he readjusts, clearing his throat—because, yeah, that last part hit differently.

Because my first time?

Was with him.

And damn, was it good.

"I—Wh—what was that last part?" Noah asks, playing it cool as he absentmindedly scratches his temple with his long index finger. "Something about... your first time?"

Heat rises to my cheeks—my nerves are making me downright reckless. I bite my finger, my mind racing. "I just meant I'm insanely excited, but it's that same kind of nervous energy you get before having sex for the first time. You know... like that night at your place."

Noah shifts again, his posture changing—his gaze darkening. "Oh, yes," he muses, his tone rich with curiosity. "And how exactly was that first-time experience for you?"

I slowly trail my fingers down his chest, my lips quirking in amusement. "One might say... mind-blowing...earth-shattering. Maybe even game-changing."

His grip tightens around my waist, just enough to make my pulse quicken. His fingers press, undeniably possessive.

"That," he exhales, his lips barely a breath from mine, "is very good news to hear."

And then, he moves in closer to kiss me. But I stop him, grazing my fingers lightly over his lips.

"I'm just now realizing something," I say coyly, skimming my hand down the snug gray sweater hugging his muscles. "Apparently, I get really, really horny when I'm nervous."