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Touch Page 3

by Sarah White


  “Well, I’m not high, just a little crazy.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, sitting down beside me on the grass. “It’s sort of my thing.” He winks at me and I swear my stomach flips. Warmth spreads to all of my limbs.

  “Oh, yes. You’re the expert.” A group of students emerge from the building behind us being led by a loud tour guide. I turn my head slightly and watch as Noah offers him a small wave. I don’t miss the way a few of the young female students are checking Noah out.

  “That’s Pat—he was in my dorm freshman year.” Noah says. “He’s a lot of fun. Always pranking people and down to party. I think he’s been a tour guide here for about four years. Loves this campus.”

  “You guys went here as freshmen?” There goes the theory of a UC well-rounded education.

  “Yes, but it’s unusual. I had to fight hard to get a position in my lab. You basically have to wait for students to finish their dissertations, and to know the professors. It took a lot of ass kissing, but I wanted to stay. Pat’s a professional student.” He points at the tour guide and I feel my brows pull together. Noah notices and explains, “He just keeps taking classes and changing majors. I’m not sure if he’s ever going to get his bachelor’s.”

  The tour comes to a stop by a set of stairs. Pat stands on a step and shouts to his group, “If ever you get lost, just hold your student ID over your head like this,” he holds a small plastic card up high and waves it around, “and other students will come to your aid and help you find where you are going.” I laugh at how absurd that sounds and Noah joins in.

  “Every year a few people fall for that bullshit. Just watch. You’re bound to see it happen.”

  “That’s mean!” I bump his shoulder with my own and he grabs hold of me so he doesn’t tip over. His hands feel so strong and my breath slips away when his bright eyes meet mine.

  “All in good fun.” He doesn’t let go of me right away and it feels like everything around us disappears as we stare into each other’s eyes. There is something about him that feels so familiar to me, comforting and reassuring. Too bad I know exactly how he feels about relationships because as I let my gaze fall and watch his tongue slide across his bottom lip I’m entertaining thoughts of Emma’s solution to getting over Lyle.

  His hands finally slip from my shoulders but he doesn’t look away. I feel my face flush at his attention and turn my head so it isn’t obvious to him how much he affects me. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair and I try not to turn back around to face him, watching only from my peripheral vision as he messes his hair. “Do you have a class?” he asks.

  “No, I’m finished for today. What about you?”

  “I just came from the lab, but I need to meet with my advisor about my dissertation.” I feel disappointment that this little moment between us is going to come to an end. “I have time for a cup of coffee if you’re free.” He looks a little nervous and it makes me smile.

  “Yeah, I’d like that.” I can see the exhale of breath he was holding and then he jumps up and brushes the grass off of his pants, then extends his hand to me to help pull me to my feet. When I put my hand in his I feel a tingle climbing up my arm from where our skin touches. His hand is a little rougher than I am expecting and now I’m curious why a psychologist would have rough fingers. My imagination starts to run wild.

  “So, Crash, what’s your drink of choice?” His hand lingers on mine for just a second before he pulls it away. I feel a small thrill at the way he still uses the nickname he gave me the day we first met.

  “Something sweet. I pretend to be a big girl, but really there’s usually more sugar and milk than the dark stuff in my cup.”

  “Sweet just like you,” he says, so quietly I almost miss it. He holds the door open for me when we get to the student union and we order our drinks at the counter. Noah insists on paying for mine and then we take our hot cups of heaven to a table for two.

  We stay here for almost an hour, and the conversation between us is easy. I laugh more than I have since Lyle and I broke up. It feels good to step away from the heartache and enjoy a man’s company again. He makes me feel interesting and I get a little lost in the excitement of making a new friend.

  When Noah’s phone alarm buzzes, alerting him of his upcoming appointment with his advisor, he reluctantly reaches for my empty cup. “Thanks for hanging out with me. Sorry I have to run.” He tosses our cups into a nearby trashcan and stands up. I stand up also and push in my chair, unsure of how to end this. I haven’t had a male friend since before Lyle. Do I hug him? Shake hands? I stand frozen to the spot.

  “It was fun. We should do it again.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth I want to take them back. What if that sounded desperate? What if he thinks I’m coming on to him and now he’s going to bolt? Instead, he smiles his crooked smile and dips his chin in agreement.

  “Absolutely. See you around, Leah.” He leans in and gives me a small hug, then takes a few steps backward. “Give me a holler if you need any help settling in.” I watch him go and try hard not to grin ear to ear. With a brighter mood than before we bumped into each other, I decide that a visit to the student store might not be so bad after all. I leave the building, already thinking about the next time I might see Noah.

  Chapter 6

  Noah

  My dissertation advisor, Dr. Peters, sorts through the new data I’ve given him. I could not be more pleased with the direction my study is going. I’m well on my way to proving my hypothesis. A few more couples and I can complete my study and try to get my findings published. He looks up at me from over the blue folder and extends his hand in my direction.

  “Congratulations, Noah. You’re almost there. I can’t believe the numbers are this strong.” We quickly shake hands and he flips a few papers over and skims the data from the latest couple. “What do you predict for these two? Sounds like they’ve been together a long time. I wonder if they will offer you some interesting information.”

  I lean forward in my chair, smiling. “They won’t be any different than the majority of the couples so far. I’ve watched their first three sessions and they can’t be any further apart from each other physically. I don’t think a few more sessions will turn that around.” Dr. Peters nods thoughtfully.

  “Well, I’m glad it’s going to work out for you. I guess the clinician in me wants to jump in and educate our department on your findings so far. Waiting for your results to be shared is going to be difficult.”

  “Soon. I just need these last few couples to complete their sessions and I’ll be ready to interpret the data. Then, of course, we can discuss our recommendations.” I don’t share the fact that I won’t be using these findings in my own practice. I have no desire to work with couples long-term.

  “Good to hear.” He stands and I follow suit. “I guess we’ll meet again when all your conclusions are in place.”

  “Sounds good. I will be in touch,” I say as I pick up the folder and leave Dr. Peters’ office. It’s an interesting feeling to have an exciting finding but to know that it is a terrible thing to learn. It’s like discovering a new form of cancer; you are excited to have found it but you know it is going to kill a lot of people.

  The air is warm as I make my way across campus. I’m so thankful it’s Friday and I am going to be able to head home and have a quiet weekend. I have to double-check the data on one couple that is almost finished with the study. My interns have coded the video, making notes to track when the couples touch and what was said, but I always like to check that they are coding them consistently so the data will be more reliable. Once I get through the fifty-minute video, the weekend will be mine.

  I am sorting through my mail in the lobby of my building when I hear the outer door open behind me. I smell her before I see her. Leah’s familiar apple scent drifts in on the breeze and my heart picks up its pace in my chest.

  “Hey, Noah.” She seems a little out of breath and I imagine she has ju
st hiked up campus to get here.

  “Hi, Leah—” My phone rings in my pocket and I am irritated to see that it is one of my assistants. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” Leah smiles at me and retrieves her mail as I answer the call.

  “Hey Penny, what’s up?”

  “Noah, look, I’m so sorry to do this to you but I just got a call and my mom is really sick. I’m going to drop out this quarter so I can go home and take care of her while she recovers. I’ll be back in the spring. I’m so sorry I have to bail on your study. Do you think you can find a replacement?” I clamp my eyes closed and fight to hold in a curse. Of course she should go home to be with her mom, but that really leaves me up Shit Creek.

  “Sure, Penny. Take care. Thanks for your help so far.”

  “Thanks, Noah. I feel terrible about it.”

  “No worries. Just be with your mom.” As soon as I see her call disconnect I let the curse fly. “FUCK!”

  “Everything okay?” I turn around to see Leah staring at me.

  “No. Damn it! That was one of my assistants. She needs to take a quarter off to attend to some family stuff. I’m so close to finishing my study, but I needed her to help me code the last couples. Now I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish it in time to submit it for this quarter. It might really put me back.” I shove my phone back into my pocket and close my mailbox.

  “Can’t you find someone else?”

  “It’s not that easy. I have to post an ad and hope that someone is still looking for placement. For the person to get credit for the work they have to be with me all quarter, but the option for class credit has almost passed.” Leah reaches out and squeezes my upper arm.

  “That’s terrible. How much time would it take?”

  “Well, there are three couples left to code and each have five sessions. It’s about fifteen hours of work.” I run my hand through my hair, desperately trying to figure out what my next move should be.

  “I’ll do it for you,” she offers. I look at her, wide-eyed, and grab her hand from my arm, trapping it between my palms.

  “Are you serious?” She nods her head. I could kiss her.

  “Sure. I’ve been dying to prove you wrong all week. This way I’ll have a front row seat when your little theory crashes and burns.” She winks at me.

  “Or you’ll see that I am absolutely right. You sure you want a front row seat to the truth? How did you take the news about Santa? I need to be sure this won’t ruin you.” She laughs and delivers a playful hit to my abs.

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “Fucking unbelievable! You’re hired!” I grab her shoulders and give her a little shake of appreciation and excitement.

  “When do I start?” she asks through the shaking.

  This might be the best part of the whole deal. “What are you doing tonight?”

  Chapter 7

  Leah

  My stomach flutters at the thought of spending more time alone with Noah. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him all week. When I left his apartment I wanted to be mad at him, but I just couldn’t find anything to be angry about from our conversation. He thinks he’s doing me a favor by letting me in on his hypothesis, but I believe he’s wrong and has just been hurt too badly to see it. Helping with his dissertation will give me the perfect opportunity to show him the light.

  “After you,” he says as I turn to walk up the stairs to our apartments. I smile at his gallantry and begin the climb, but my smile fades and my stomach drops as we reach our floor. My door is open and there are men’s voices coming from inside, shouting to each other. I catch the words ‘water’ and ‘damage.’

  I run the last few steps to my unit with Noah close behind me. The building manager, Henry, is there along with three workers. Water is dripping from the ceiling and the carpet has been torn up and piled in the corner.

  “What’s going on? What are you doing in here?” I demand.

  “Leah! I’ve been trying to call you all day,” Henry says, as he makes his way over to us.

  “I’ve been in class. I turned my phone off…”

  “A pipe broke above your apartment,” Henry explains. “It flooded the room upstairs, your place and your next-door neighbor’s.” Noah’s eyes widen. “No, not your place, Noah. Number 25, on the other side.”

  “What does that even mean?” I ask in disbelief.

  “It means you can’t stay here until we fix the damage. We’ve got to get the fans in here to dry the place out and replace the carpet so there will be no mold. It may take a few weeks. We’ll pay for you to stay in a hotel, but I’m afraid the only one with a room available is about thirty minutes out of town and it doesn’t have a kitchen or any of those sorts of amenities.” I feel the tears burning behind my eyes.

  “Leah, you can stay with me,” Noah offers.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

  “I have a big place and I never use the extra room. I’m sure we can make it work for a few weeks.” He puts his hand on my shoulder tentatively and when I don’t pull away, he rubs it down my back in little circles. “It’s no big deal.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but there’s more,” Henry says. “Your bedroom was hit pretty hard. Your bed and a few other things in there have been ruined. You’ll have to make an itemized list so the insurance company can reimburse you.”

  I feel my knees grow weak and Noah wraps his arm around me to pull me into his chest. The tears I have been holding back slip down my cheeks.

  “I was just starting to feel settled and now I have to start all over!” I whisper angrily. Noah uses his thumb to gently wipe a tear from my cheek.

  “Come on, let’s go have a look,” he suggests. “We’ll gather up whatever we can salvage and take it over to my place.” I nod my head against him and let him lead me into my room.

  The ceiling is swollen and broken in a few spots. Plaster and water cover every surface. Noah loosens his hold on me and I make my way over to my dresser. Water is still dripping from its edge and big puddles have already damaged the woodwork. The last picture ever taken of Lyle and me is submerged face down in a puddle on the floor. It’s too late for me to rescue it; the water has already caused the ink to bleed and the paper to warp.

  I feel numb as I hold the picture in my hand and remember the day it was taken. Noah comes up behind me and lightly places his warm and comforting hand on my back.

  “I’m sure you can get a copy of it,” he says softly. He’s right; my mother has this same photo in a frame in the guest bedroom back home. I nod my head and slide open the dresser drawers, gathering my clothes.

  Together we make a few trips between our apartments, carrying my necessities and moving a few boxes out of the way of the workers. When I finally have the last of what I think I might need tucked into an old duffle bag, Noah slings it over his shoulder and we leave my apartment. I’m grateful that my laptop with my schoolwork is unharmed.

  This is not the way I saw my first week of grad school ending, but I shouldn’t be surprised, given the horrible way it started, with me still struggling to come to terms with my breakup with Lyle. Once inside the safety of Noah’s apartment, I can no longer hold in my frustration at the injustice of it all. I cover my face with my hands and give in to a good cry. Noah’s arms encircle me and I am comforted by the warmth of his body and his clean scent.

  “It’ll be okay, Leah. It’s just water. I’m glad you weren’t there when it happened. Let’s get you settled.” His big hands splay out across my back. I suck in a few deep breaths and pull myself together.

  “Thank you for letting me stay here.” I say. His smile is warm and bright as he brushes the hair from my face.

  “Of course,” he answers. “You are totally saving my ass with my dissertation. It’s the least I can do.” I wipe my face with the hem of my T-shirt and even laugh a little.

  “I’ll put my stuff in the extra room.” I pick up my duffle bag and head down the hallway, but when I cross the threshold I r
ealize that maybe I haven’t thought this through well enough. The room is empty: no bed, no dresser, not even a desk. I turn around when I hear Noah behind me.

  “So I guess I should have mentioned the whole bed problem…” He shrugs and offers me his crooked smile.

  “It’s okay. I can sleep on the floor. It’s better than the swamp that’s in my apartment.”

  Noah leans against the doorframe and crosses one foot over the other. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor. You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “I can’t let you do that! No way.” I protest. His smile spreads across his face and he pushes himself off of the doorframe. His mind is clearly made up.

  “It won’t be the first time.”

  Chapter 8

  Noah

  What the hell was I thinking? There was no way I could let Leah stay in a hotel outside of town and try to get back and forth to classes, but still—this is not going to end well. I’ll call the manager and make sure they get a bed set up in here for her, fast. In the meantime, I’m going to have to work hard to keep my distance.

  “Would it be all right if I took a shower?” she asks.

  “Of course, make yourself at home.” I grab a towel for her from the linen closet. “You don’t even need to ask. I’m sure they’ll get your place back to livable as soon as possible, but in the meantime, you may as well get comfy.”

  Leah takes the towel from my hand and folds her arms around it, hugging it to her chest. “Thanks, Noah. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d had to commute from that hotel.” Her eyes meet mine and my heart melts a little at the vulnerability I see in them.

  “No need to thank me. I owe you big time for helping me with the study. This is nothing compared to how much your volunteering is going to help the project. Without you, I’d be dead in the water.”

 

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