Chapter 9
NINE
now i know why he called me a stubborn idiot
Arthur
The shock on her face perfectly matches how I feel.
I offered to let a stranger live here for free after accusing her of being drunk and/or on drugs.
But that accusation never felt quite right.
I can tell when someone is using something.
It’s a skill I honed after years of hiding my own addiction from those closest to me.
Maybe a part of me chose to believe she was under the influence of something because I needed a reason not to want her, to not want to be near her.
I never would have guessed she had an alcohol intolerance, but I’m sure I would have known if I had bothered to listen to Beau earlier.
He tried to tell me something, and I shut him down.
Now I know why he called me a stubborn idiot before walking away and leaving me alone like I asked.
“I can pay you.” She raises her chin, but I don’t miss the slight wobble in it.
“I’m no freeloader, and I don’t like owing people anything, so as much as you’ve offended me today.
” She pauses, swallowing and narrowing her eyes at me.
I deserve it. “Staying here temporarily is still somehow better than dealing with the alternative. I’ll pay you rent until I find another place to live.
” She rubs at the back of her neck and winces.
The movement reminds me that she mentioned having a headache.
If hers are anything like my brother Raf’s, she must be in a world of pain right now.
“I understand not wanting to owe people anything. Believe me. But you said you’re not feeling well, so why don’t you go get some rest, and we can figure this all out later?” Her only response is a relieved sigh and a nod. “Can I get you some tea? Do you need anything?”
At that, her gaze meets mine, and all the warmth in the amber eyes I was so entranced by is gone.
“No, other than needing to share a house for a short time, I don’t need anything from you, Arthur.
” After stepping back, she closes the door more softly than I deserve, and I mentally punch myself in the face for so royally fucking this up.
She’s my roommate. My coworker. The woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since our eyes locked for the first time.
How is this mess my life?
There has been no sign of Alice for the last two days.
The woman is like a ghost. I know she’s been to the main barn because everyone else has seen her.
I’ve asked Gear and Mouse about her, and they both gave me pointed looks, because apparently it’s unusual for me to ask about anyone multiple times a day.
Sue me. I’d like to know if my roommate is going to ignore me forever.
When she’s home, she moves silently through the house and seems to have perfected the art of avoiding me and Luther.
My dog is desperate to be around her, but if she gets home before me, she doesn’t let him out.
He has a tracker on his collar, since he’s a bit of an escape artist and too damn curious for his own good, so I know he hasn't left the house.
I can relate to his curiosity, though, because with every passing hour, I want to know more about Alice, and it has nothing to do with the fact she’s living in my house.
It has everything to do with the way I felt when I saw her smile for the first time, when we danced like we’d done it a million times before. I want to know her.
Now it’s the weekend, and I figure since we’re both off today, there’s no way she’ll be able to avoid me.
But by the time I get out of bed at six, she’s already gone.
She didn’t come home until after eleven last night, but she’s gotta be back at some point, so I’m gonna wait her out. I have nothing better to do, anyway.
As I finish cleaning the house and settle onto the front porch swing with a coffee and a book, the telltale sound of tires on the gravel driveway has Luther running at full speed, barking with excitement.
He’s not dumb enough to get too close to cars when they’re moving, but as soon as Alice’s Jeep comes to a full stop, he’s at her door, tail wagging so hard it makes his entire body shake.
He lets out a bark and sits, waiting for her to come out.
But she doesn’t. Not after she turns the car off, and not after her seatbelt is no longer on.
She stares at him, then at me, wide-eyed and looking…
scared? No. She couldn’t be scared of Luther, could she?
I mean, we never talked about it since we haven’t talked about much of anything, but I was sure it was fine.
Huh. This would explain him not being let out, I guess.
Finally, she mouths the word help, and I have to pretend to cough as I cover up my laughter.
Not at her, but at the fact she’s scared of the world’s friendliest dog.
I stand, calling Luther over to me. It takes three tries before he makes it halfway to the porch, but once he hears the car door open, he’s back, pouncing to get to Alice, whose foot doesn’t even touch the ground before she shuts herself in again.
As I walk over to her, I take note of how tightly she’s gripping the steering wheel. She really is scared. Shit. I grab Luther gently by the collar and walk several feet away from the Jeep, nodding to her that she can come out.
“S-sorry, I—I don’t—Dogs scare me, a-and I know he’s friendly, but—”
“Luther, get in the house.” The dog knows what’s good for him, so while I don’t use this harsh tone often, when I do, he knows better than not to listen.
He immediately takes off, heading inside through the dog door.
Certain he won’t move, I lock eyes with Alice, who is visibly shaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay.” Her arms are wrapped tightly around her middle as her eyes lower to the ground. “I’ll get over it.”
That’s it. I gotta do something.
I can’t watch her like this. I place my hands on her shoulders and squeeze lightly, though I inexplicably want to hug her instead. “Luther comes on a little strong. I’m sorry. I should have asked you how you felt about dogs.”
“It’s fine. It’s not your job to—”
“I’m your roommate, and I want to be a good one. I should have asked.” As I rub circles on her shoulder with my thumbs, she relaxes. “Can I ask what happened to make you scared?” Her body tenses again. “I want to understand and do what I can to help and keep Luther from triggering you.”
I get a small nod, but her eyes remain focused on her shoes.
“I was chased by a dog once. I was nine, and I didn’t know there was a dog in my house.
I stepped on his tail by accident when I walked into the kitchen, and I screamed because he scared me.
I guess I scared him, too, because he started barking and chasing me.
I ran out into the street, and I fell and hit my head on the curb when he jumped on me.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital and—” She stops herself with a shake of her head.
“Well, I’ve avoided dogs ever since. It makes no sense, I know.
I work with twelve-hundred-pound animals, but I was lucky because the barn dog at my previous place was so old he would stay in the tack room or the boss’ office all day. I know this fear is stupid—”
“No, it’s not.” Not taking my hands off her, I take a step closer.
She doesn’t recoil or step back, so I take it as a good sign that she’s okay with this.
“I’m sorry, Alice. I’ll keep Luther with me or in his room when you’re around.
We can text each other, and I’ll make sure he’s not going to greet you with barking and jumping, okay? ”
“He’s your dog. You shouldn’t have to do that.”
“He’s my dog, and it’s my responsibility to make sure he behaves.
Luther’s a rescue, and I haven’t had him long, so there are a lot of behaviors we still need to work on.
He’s a good dog, but he has some trauma, so we’re taking it slow.
” With a final squeeze, I let her shoulders go, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
I fucking hate the way I’m drawn to her, but since the day we met, it’s like I’m incapable of not responding to her vulnerability.
“That makes sense. These things take time.” With a step back, she looks up at me. “Thanks. For, um, sending him inside and being so nice about this.” She attempts a smile, but it’s tight. I wish she didn’t feel like she needs to smile to appease me—or anyone, for that matter.
“Of course. Do you maybe want to chat a bit about any other roommate stuff? You haven’t been around much, and I was hoping to go over a few things with you.” Like knowing literally anything other than your first name and profession…
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Looking toward the front door, she inhales a deep breath.
“Luther will stay inside. We can sit on the porch. I won’t take up too much of your time.
” I motion for her to walk ahead of me, which is a mistake, because it dawns on me she’s wearing bike shorts that hug every single curve of her legs and hips perfectly.
I wasn’t even aware shorts could hug a person’s ass that way.
Fuck. Look away, Arthur. Her ass is not up for grabs.
Literally.
Shit.
I am in way over my head here.