Chapter 5 #2
Noah gives me an incredulous look over his shoulder, but I don’t even care at this point. I rest my cheek on the cool granite counter, waiting for the sparkling water to make me sick again. I only took a few tiny sips, but that’s all it seems to take.
“Do you have lard?” he asks.
“Uh, no.”
“What about butter?”
“There might be some in the freezer.”
He must find what he needs because the sound of sizzling steak fills the kitchen. I nearly gag at the smell.
Too soon, Noah slides a plate across the counter, right in front of my nose. I sit up, staring at it. I forgot to tell him what temperature to cook it to, but what difference does it make?
“Where’s your silverware?” he asks.
“It’s in the drawer next to the fridge.”
He hands me a fork and a steak knife that hasn’t seen a steak since my grandparents lived here.
I cut into the meat, and my stomach twists. “It’s still…um. It’s kinda bloody.”
Noah nods. “It’s rare.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful—but I’m not sure I can…”
This can’t be rare—it’s practically raw. Surely people don’t eat this.
“Just give it a try.”
I’m surprised it doesn’t moo when I stab it with the fork.
I cut off a tiny piece and clench my eyes shut, determined to eat it. It’s salty and warm, and the texture is all kinds of freaky. Quickly, I chew just enough I can swallow it. Once I do, I gag a little.
I open my eyes, breathing hard as I cling to the counter's edge.
“Dramatic much?” Noah says.
The spark of amusement in his eyes takes me so completely by surprise, I almost forget about the steak.
I take a sip of sparkling water, waiting for my stomach to object. When it doesn’t, I dare another piece. This time, I manage to eat it with my eyes open. When I’m able to keep it down, I eat a little more.
It’s hard, and I have to be careful not to think about what I’m eating, but somehow, I finish the entire thing.
By the time I’m finished, my dizziness is gone, and my stomach hurts only because my muscles are sore from throwing up so much.
I almost feel human.
Noah stands across from me, looking quietly pleased when I set the fork and knife on the empty plate.
“I did it,” I say triumphantly.
“Yes, you choked down my cooking,” Noah says dryly.
“That’s not what I meant.” I flush. “I’m sure if I liked meat, it would have been good.”
That doesn’t sound much better.
I glance at the clock on the stove. It’s been a little over an hour since I talked to Dr. Granger. “I’m supposed to see my doctor now.”
He frowns, looking me over. “I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I think I’m okay.”
“You still look a little worse for wear,” he argues.
Under my breath, I mutter, “That’s just what every girl wants to hear from a Greek god.”
“What?”
“I said I’m going to change. If you’re serious about driving me, do you mind waiting a few minutes?”
He waves me off, and I go upstairs and step into the master bath off my bedroom.
I take one look at my reflection in the mirror and decide I should have chosen death.
I look awful. My skin is pale, and I have dark bags under my eyes.
Plus, my hair is a little greasy, though hopefully Noah couldn’t tell since it was up.
I take the quickest shower known to man. After I’m dressed, I brush my teeth without throwing up.
It’s disconcerting how much better I feel.
Because I don’t have time to dry my hair, I pull it into a French braid and even brush on a little blush and a few swipes of mascara.
I’m not going to win any beauty contests, but I look better than I have in days.
When I step into the kitchen where I left Noah, I find it empty.
Strangely disappointed, I return to the living room. Did I take too long? Did he decide to leave?
The pregnancy test lies on the couch, right where Olivia left it. Horror washes over me, and I race forward, stashing it between the cushions. Thankfully, Noah isn’t here either.
Did he see it?
I end up finding him in the entry, standing next to a console table, frowning at a framed photo in his hand. He glances at me, silently taking in my new and improved, not-quite-dying look. He returns the picture to its place next to the lamp. “Are you ready?”
My eyes stray to the photo, and my stomach tightens. Kevin and I were in St. Augustine, and a woman offered to get a picture of us together. I’ve taken all the others down. I’m not even sure why I saved this one.
The police are still looking for his killer, but the culprit seems to have disappeared like smoke in the night.
I went to the funeral. Kevin’s family didn’t know what to say to me, and I didn’t know what to say to them. Their son was a piece of work, but I didn’t want him dead.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I tell Noah, pulling my purse off the coat rack by the front door.
I follow him to his SUV, feeling a pang of guilt when I pass the dead flowers in the containers by the walk.
“Did you ever hear from that guy who left you stranded at the gas station?” Noah asks when we’re on our way to my doctor’s office.
The casual mention of Ethan makes me shiver. True to his word, he hasn’t tried to contact me. I don’t know what to make of it.
“No,” I say.
Noah nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Are they going to miss you at the store?” I ask, glancing at his shamrock green T-shirt. It doesn’t suit him, and yet it doesn’t detract from his extreme hotness either.
“I called to let them know I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off.”
“Sorry,” I murmur, wondering why he’d bother to do that for me.
We arrive at the doctor’s office not too long later. I step out of the SUV, frowning when Noah does the same. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll have my brother pick me up when I’m finished.”
“Do you want me to leave?” he asks, his tone a little too neutral.
I shift my purse strap higher on my shoulder, acutely uncomfortable. “Only if you want to.”
“I’m fine.” He walks toward the door, and I hurry to keep up with him.