Chapter 9 Nora
NORA
Istood in the guest bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror.
Colson’s sweats were too long, so I had to roll the waist down, but they were soft and, most importantly, warm.
He’d given me a large hoodie to wear too, so I could let my shirt dry.
I hadn’t realized how wet everything had gotten, but my coat was soaked through, as were my jeans.
My hair was wet, so it was curling, and all my makeup had melted off, save for my lashes.
With a huff, I grabbed my wet clothes and opened the door. Peering to the right, I saw Colson’s room, with the door wide open. I assumed he’d gone in to change, but maybe not.
Suddenly, in his bedroom mirror, I could see his reflection. His muscled chest and stomach were visible as he pulled a shirt over his head, and that’s when my eyes moved lower.
He had on a pair of green boxer briefs that barely fit the rather large dick imprint that seemed to rest toward the left side of his body. God, he was massive, if that much was visible from here.
He shoved his left leg into a pair of sweats, and I quickly averted my eyes. Why was I spying on him?
Ohmygosh.
Darting out of the hall as quickly as I could, I prayed to sweet baby Jesus that he hadn’t seen me watching him. Instead, I moved around the living room, straightening my clothes out to dry in front of the gas fireplace.
“I was thinking of soup and grilled cheese for dinner…comfort food, what do you think?” Colson asked, walking into his kitchen with ease, like he hadn’t seen me watching him dress moments earlier. Maybe he hadn’t.
“Yeah, that sounds fine. Can I help make anything?” I asked, letting the sleeves of the hoodie swallow up my palms.
“You can toss everything I hand you into the blender, and then help me butter the bread.”
I moved to his side to help him and with everything he diced, chopped, and opened, then I poured and dumped into the blender. Once we’d transferred it to a pot, and the soup was simmering on the stove, I helped butter the pieces of bread.
“So, are you going to tell me about what happened?” he finally asked, flipping the burner on and moving toward our plates. He sucked the pad of his thumb into his mouth, licking off the melted butter, and it was the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed in my life.
Trying not to stare, I toyed with the edges of my sleeves.
“My parents apparently are leaving me their house.”
Colson’s head swung toward me from his place in front of the fridge, his mouth parted and then he blinked.
“Wait…as in they offered to sign over the house you’re living in right now?”
What? Why would he assume that they owned it?
“No…I own my house, which is why I don’t want their house.”
His blue eyes searched mine from his spot by the fridge, the sound of The Office played from the television in the living room, and the blizzard silently flew around outside the window. It was peaceful and warm.
“Wow, I mean…you’re only twenty-three, I guess I assumed they owned it.”
Watching him grab two beers, he finally shut the fridge and walked back over.
I wasn’t sure what to make of his statement…I wasn’t that surprised that he assumed they’d bought it, but I hated that he didn’t seem to know me at all, and he didn’t indicate that he wanted to.
“So, why exactly are they leaving you their house?”
We moved to the table with our beers, grilled cheese, and our bowls of soup. Propping my knee up, I leaned in to pull apart my sandwich and explained.
“You know I’ve had a lot of issues with my house.
It’s a fixer upper, I mean, it’s still that disgusting brown color from when I first bought it, but my parents think if they move to Arizona, they won’t be able to have peace of mind if I’m living here versus over there, where everything has been updated and maintained by my dad.
They also seem to think that I don’t make any money and will immediately become homeless once they leave. ”
Colson’s gaze flickered between his food and my lips, and every so often his eyes would land on mine in a sad sort of way. Almost as if he was sorry for me.
“Did they ever ask if you wanted to join them in Arizona?”
Taking a spoonful of tomato soup, I tried to push down the hurt around the answer. It was ridiculous that I wanted an invitation, but just the same…it had never come.
“No.”
That sad expression returned, arranging his features in a way that made his eyebrows pull tighter and his lips twitch, and all I wanted to do was lean over and kiss it from his face.
I didn’t want pity.
“So, you told them no…and what, they forced you to walk home?”
Laughing at his attempt to pull the story from me, I shook my head.
“I’m still not so great at driving in the snow.
So, I had ridden over with them, but while I was there, I just couldn’t be talked to like a child.
It drives me insane when they act like I can’t manage my own life, or I need to be taken care of. ”
At that, he stayed quiet, and we finished our meals in peace.
Afterward, we stood at his back door and watched as more and more of our fence line disappeared from the heavy snowfall.
“Maybe I should head home before it gets too dark.” I suggested, realizing it was already nearly dark.
Colson made a sound of disagreement with his eyes locked on the storm outside. “Nah, I think maybe you should just stay for a bit…be my drinking buddy.”
“Your drinking buddy?” I snorted, taking my hair off my neck in the warmth of the house.
Colson stepped away, his hand grazing my side the slightest bit.
“Yeah…we can play cards,” he reached above the fridge and pulled down a bottle of whiskey and then reached into the freezer and produced vodka.
“Ohhh, you mean drink-drink?”
“Drink-drink,” he smirked, setting the bottles on the table and then grabbing two shot glasses.
“Where are the cards?”
Lifting his chin, he gestured toward the hall. “Guest room closet.”
Spinning on my heel, I walked into the first guest room off the hall.
It had a large queen-size bed with a white comforter and puffy pillows.
A modest-size dresser sat against the far wall, but otherwise the space was empty.
The closet, however, was a large walk-in, and when I flipped the light, my heart nearly left my chest.
Neatly stacked and organized from wall to wall was nearly every single kid’s game I had ever heard of.
I knew it was for the girls when they came over, but it let me see a different side of him that thawed my annoyance regarding his recent, rather confusing behavior.
Smiling at all the extra dolls and barbie toys and a few light sabers he had in a basket, I grabbed a deck of cards and walked out.
“Find ’em?” Colson asked, staring down at his phone.
I padded to the table, sat, and plopped down the deck of cards with a tiny smile.
“Yep.”
He looked up and saw what I had grabbed, and those eyes finally landed on me, making me bite back my laugh.
“Go Fish?”
“Yes, sir.” I tried to keep from laughing while I pulled out the cards and shuffled.
I didn’t miss the way he also worked to keep from laughing.
“Okay, here’s the rules, you have to take a shot every time you lose a card.”
My mouth dropped. “We’re gonna get so drunk.”
“You might, I’m fucking awesome at this game.”
Handing him the deck, I grabbed for my shot glass. “It’s totally chance, you dork.”
“Let’s find out,” he beamed, grabbing his deck.
“If you think for one second that I’m giving you my purple fish, you’re out of your mind.” My cards were dwindling, as were my chances to win. Colson, the glutton, had at least six sets in front of him, and I only had three.
Colson propped his elbows up on the table, his shot untouched in front of him, like mine. We’d both taken a few…okay, more than a few, but I thought maybe I had had a few more than him. My fish blurred a bit.
“You don’t have a choice, if I ask for them, you have to give them to me.”
We’d moved our game to the coffee table because we wanted to be closer to the fire.
The blizzard made the draft by the sliding glass door unbearably cold.
But with the new position, we were sitting considerably closer.
I could see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes and the way his upper lip had the smallest scar.
“Then don’t ask me for my purple fish,” I said, trying to be serious but the way he smirked told me I had fallen short.
“Nora, I can’t not ask you when I have two purple fish waiting for the other two in your hand.”
Slapping the table, making the shot glass shake, I leaned in closer. “You can ask for pink fish.” Pushing my finger into his chest, I added, “Ask me for pink.”
The last part of my words came out slurred, but I shook it off.
I wasn’t drunk yet, definitely not…just buzzed a little bit.
Colson grabbed my finger and held my hand. “What will you give me for it?”
His question felt all warm and fuzzy, like cotton wadded up inside my chest.
“What do you want for not asking for my purple fish?”
I think a giggle came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t be sure.
His eyes were getting red, and he was unsteady in his movements…so maybe he was drunk. What a lightweight.
“I want to kiss you somewhere I haven’t kissed you yet.”
Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I tossed my head back and laughed.
“So, you’re saying I can keep my purple fish if you let me”—I frowned—“I mean, if I let you kiss me?”
“Somewhere I haven’t kissed you yet,” he added.
Clicking my tongue, I tilted my head to the side. “Where will you kiss me?”
“Not telling until you agree,” he said, leaning so close our mouths nearly touched.
I didn’t care about the game or the rules, but I desperately wanted him to kiss me.
Setting my cards down and pulling my hand free, I agreed.
“Deal.”
Colson set his hand of cards down and drank his shot. I took mine too, feeling the liquid burn down my throat and warm my belly.