Chapter Five Noah #2
So that’s what we do. We finish our lunch in silence. I clean up the kitchen while Odette runs to the restroom.
The second she’s gone, I breathe a sigh of relief, and my shoulders drop from my ears.
I had no idea I was holding such tension until now. I knew I was keyed up, but damn. This seems a bit extra.
Get a grip, Noah, I tell myself as I rinse the crumbs off our plates. She’s Izzy’s best friend. That’s all she’ll ever be.
I inhale a long, calming breath, then exhale it just as slowly, trying to get myself back in the right headspace and definitely not thinking about Odette Chambers in ways I shouldn’t.
I’m just about done loading the dishes into the dishwasher when I hear my name hollered from across the house.
I spring into action, dropping the plate I was holding and taking off toward where Odette is calling for me.
“Noah!”
“What? What’s the matter?” I yell back, skidding to a stop in front of the closed bathroom door.
“There’s a spider!”
Holy fuck. Is she serious?
“Seriously?” I say through the door. “That’s why you’re screaming like someone’s trying to axe murder you?”
“No, I’m screaming like someone’s trying to axe murder me because there’s no toilet paper, so I can’t even wipe and escape this beast before I get eaten alive!”
Shit. I completely forgot to restock the downstairs bathroom. Now she’s stranded in there, panicking if the sound of her harsh breathing is any indication.
“Uh, can’t you drip-dry or something? Then I can come to kill the spider?”
“Drip-dry? Drip-dry?! What the hell is wrong with you, Noah Stevens? And you are not killing the spider. You’re going to trap it and release it back outside where it belongs.”
I’m going to what?
I shake my head at her, even though she can’t see me.
I grip the edge of the doorframe. “Just hurry up, will you? We have work to do.”
“You hurry up! Get me some damn toilet paper!”
“But that’s all the way upstairs.”
“You’re right. Upstairs is a long way to walk. I’ll just use this old shirt lying on the floor, which I certainly have questions about, because why are you showering down here?”
She’s right. I don’t usually shower down here.
I have a nice, newly renovated bathroom upstairs, which is the only spot in the house I’ve done something with.
But I was so gross last night after working on the barn, and I felt like I was covered in dust and spiderwebs.
I stripped as soon as I walked in the door and showered downstairs.
Now I regret it. She’s about to use my favorite shirt as toilet paper.
“Wait, wait! I’ll go grab some. Just . . . don’t use my shirt, okay?”
“Then hurry! Before I become this spider’s lunch!”
I bolt up the stairs to my bathroom, grab a fresh pack of toilet paper, and sprint back downstairs.
“Open the door, Odie,” I call to her.
She doesn’t respond right away, and for just a second the illogical part of me thinks that the spider may have actually eaten her.
Then she talks.
“It’s unlocked,” she says, sounding much less annoyed than earlier. “Just . . . just close your eyes and set it on the counter. I’ll grab it.”
Even though I want to roll them, I close my eyes instead. Why would I want to check her out right now? This is so not the situation for that.
Yeah, and neither was you nearly popping a boner earlier because you couldn’t stop thinking about her damn underwear, yet that’s precisely what happened.
I shove away my thoughts and push open the door.
“Stop peeking!”
I growl. “I’m not fucking peeking, Odie. Can’t you see me bumbling around like a fool? I can’t even find the counter.”
“This is your house. How do you not know where the counter is?”
“I don’t normally navigate it with my eyes closed.”
“Whatever. Just hurry already. You should see the size of this damned spider, eyeing me like I’m a piece of fried chicken or something.”
“Which is it—do you want me to keep my eyes closed or look at the spider?”
“Closed!”
My lips twitch as I reach into the room as I’m told. But the only thing I find is the door. I push it open farther and take a small step into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?!” Odette yells, and I realize then that my small step is rather large, especially given how tiny this bathroom is, because she’s close.
Too close.
“I don’t know!” I yell back, toss the packet of toilet paper I don’t know where, and spin on my heel to get the hell out of the room as fast as the small room will allow. This is exactly why I prefer my bathroom upstairs. It’s wide, where this one is just long and narrow.
Which means speed-walking out of the bathroom with my eyes shut is a terrible idea.
“Ow! Shit! Fuck!” I grab my face as pain shoots through it as I slam nose-first into the side of the door.
I’ve played hockey since I was four years old, so I know instantly that I’m going to be black and blue. And that there’s a chance my nose is broken.
There’s a scramble behind me, and I hear Odette getting off the toilet.
So much for not being able to move. And so much for being deathly afraid of the spider.
“Oh my god, Noah! Noah! Are you okay?” Her hand lands on my back. “Are you—”
“I’m fine!” I roar, shoving the door so hard it bounces off the wall and smacks into my side as I race out of the bathroom.
“But your face. I—”
“Just go to the damn bathroom, Odette,” I say, grabbing the handle and slamming the door closed hard enough that it rattles the walls of the old farmhouse.
Odette doesn’t say another word, and I don’t blame her.
Well, I kind of do.
If she wasn’t being so damn stubborn, I could have just set the toilet paper on the counter with no problem, and I wouldn’t be walking around with a busted beak right about now.
I finally open my eyes, pressing my back against the wall and sucking in breath after breath, trying to get myself under control.
I can’t believe that just happened. I can’t believe my face hurts so damn bad. I can’t believe I yelled at Odette like that.
I push off the wall and stomp through the house, going back upstairs to my bathroom, which has more than enough space, so I won’t be running into doors anytime soon.
There’s a nasty gash across the bridge of my nose, blood leaking down the sides of it and dripping over my chin onto my shirt. Other than that, it doesn’t look too bad, though. For now, at least. I have no doubt I’m going to have a black eye—or two—tomorrow.
I press around it, feeling for any signs of it being broken, but I think I’m okay. I got lucky, that’s for sure.
After cleaning the cut with my first aid kit I’m now really damn glad I brought, I change out of my bloodstained shirt, pop a few ibuprofens to combat the swelling, and head back downstairs.
Odette’s sitting on the second-to-last step, her chin resting in her hand. Even from behind, she looks deflated. What does she have to be upset about? I’m the one who got hurt.
She flips around when she hears me coming, then scrambles to get out of my way.
When she looks up at me, there’s no mistaking how her eyes widen as she takes in the damage she’s caused.
“Noah, I . . . I didn’t mean to—”
I hold my hand up, stopping her. “It’s fine.”
She nods, worry still covering each inch of her features. “Are you . . . is it broken?” she asks with a wince.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. Going to bruise, and it hurts like a son of a bitch, that’s for damn sure, but not broken.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s good.”
Her fingers play with the edges of her shirt. She looks worried and even a little scared. She looks sorry.
“Listen, I think we should call it a day.”
She snaps her blue eyes back to mine, tilting her head to the side. “But . . . the barn. I thought we were going to work on it for longer. Until dark?”
Damn going back to working on the barn.
I need to clean myself up more, heal, and get far, far away from Odette Chambers.
It’s been a long enough day as it is, especially since I’ve been up since four, and I don’t need it to be any longer with the way my nose and eyes are already starting to swell.
“We’ll do it later,” I say through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the pain radiating through my face. “Go home, Odie.”
She frowns, her shoulders sloping down, her chin nearly meeting her chest.
I instantly feel bad for upsetting her. I don’t like seeing her this way.
But I also don’t like that I’m now going to lose a few days’ worth of work because I went and busted up my nose trying to help her out.
“Okay,” she says. “I . . . I’m sorry, Noah.”
“It’s no big deal,” I tell her, even though we both know it is.
The people in this town are nosy, and I serve them booze every day. They’re going to want to know what happened, which means I’m going to have to come up with a damn good story, because there is no way I’m telling them the truth.
She nods but doesn’t say anything else.
I hold the door open for her as she climbs down the steps I need to get around to replacing one of these days, then gets into her tiny car.
Pale-pink lace. Red hearts. A matching bow.
I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking away the thought for I don’t even know how many times today, and pain from my nose radiates through my face.
I’ve only been working with Odette for one day, and one thing is for sure—I’m already in way over my head.