Six
Roommates
The house where Professor Bismarck dropped them off was a huge, slate-roofed Victorian. It was on the edge of Brownington’s campus and surrounded by other Victorians with wrap-around porches, turrets, and rickety wooden fire escapes.
The houses on either side of this one had been renovated into student apartments. They had the telltale signs of college kids: Bob Marley tapestries hanging over windows, bikes locked onto porches.
Ryan’s house stood out. The paint was a fresh white, and it had a carved wooden door with a circular clasp, right in the center. The driveway was packed full of cars, making it impossible for Bismarck to park there, but otherwise, everything was neat and tidy.
Getting out first, Ryan grabbed Nora’s pathetic plastic bag and opened her door. He knelt, helping her get her legs out of the car. “Hold my shoulders. I’m going to lift you.”
Her face heated, but she did as he asked. She felt his body tense, and then he lifted, supporting her while she got shakily to her feet. He kept his arm around her waist, keeping step with her short shuffle along the walkway. She wanted to investigate the neighborhood more, but Ryan’s proximity distracted her, and the way his arm held her confidently flustered her more than she wanted to admit.
When she finally made it to the door, she noticed a more modern doorknob closer to the frame. He put his key in it while keeping one arm around her waist.
The inside of the house was in the process of being renovated. The entryway was beautiful, opening into the living room on one side, and a stairway on the other. Light from the stained glass windows pooled colorfully onto the ground. Beyond the entryway, she could see sheet rock leaning against the frame of a wall, and spill cloth taped along the floor. The house was quiet, except for a hum coming from beneath her feet. Hadn’t he said his roommates would be home?
Dropping her bag next to the stairs, he gestured to the back of the house. “Come on. The guys are probably in the kitchen.”
They went past the living room and through the demolished dining room into the kitchen. Nora caught her breath. The kitchen was gleaming with stainless steel appliances and dark, smooth concrete countertops. Three guys sat at a huge table in the center of the room, all of them staring at her with unabashed curiosity. If she’d had a free hand, and wasn’t afraid of falling on her face, she’d have checked her hair, but as it stood, she figured her pending murder charge was a bigger point against her than her appearance.
“This is Apollo Morris, Matisse Boudreau, and Cai Josephs.” Ryan pointed to each person.
The first guy, Apollo, was one of the biggest people Nora ever met. She hoped the chair was strong enough to hold him. When he stood, she bet he would tower over her by at least a foot. His shoulders were twice her width, but his smile was open and friendly. His white teeth stood out in his dark-skinned, handsome face. He had a dimple in one cheek, and dark framed glasses he pushed into place before letting one arm drop onto his lap. His other arm was propped on the table, giving her a view of his chest. His muscles stretched the seams of his t-shirt to the ripping point.
Matisse Boudreau, pale and somehow graceful, sat between Apollo and Cai. He had long everything: a long, aquiline nose, long, dark hair curling around his chin, and long legs clad in dark jeans and motorcycle boots. Taken in parts, he was not handsome, but put together, the pieces fit like a puzzle. He wasn’t classically handsome, but his appearance was arresting.
Her gaze finally came to rest on Cai, and she was blinded by gold: golden hair, golden skin, golden eyes. He was healthy and strong, like he drank milk and got plenty of sun. His hands were clasped in front of him, and she could see the muscles in his arms contract as if he was squeezing his hands together. He watched her curiously, but not in the same way Apollo did. Apollo seemed friendly, while Cai and Matisse were wary.
“Nice to meet you,” Apollo ventured, getting her attention.
“Thank you for letting me stay.” She smiled at him gratefully.
A door clicked shut behind her and she turned, hoping this was the last person she had to meet, because she needed to sit. Her muscles trembled, and she could feel a clammy sweat trickling along her spine.
“This is Seok Jheon, he owns this house.”
She met the dark, serious gaze of the final roommate. She searched his face for some sort of emotion, some hint of what he felt at having an interloper in his home, but he gave nothing away.
“Hello,” he said to her, his voice slightly accented, the vowels and consonants rounded. He was tall, but not quite as tall as Ryan. The bright morning sun highlighted hair dyed cherry- red. His style was… unique. He wore red skinny jeans, and a strategically torn t-shirt revealing bright splashes of color. He reminded her of a sunset, bright but hinting at something darker.
“Hello,” she answered, her voice slightly breathless as the pain got worse. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here.”
He nodded at her, as if saying, yes, I allow you to stay here, and I can disallow it at any time. Her stomach started to roil, body screaming at her if she didn’t rest soon, then it was going to punish her.
“I’m sorry,” she voiced to no one in particular. “I need to sit.” Voicing the need made it happen, and her knees buckled. She heard a sound like every chair suddenly scraped against the floor, but Ryan reached her first. His arms scooped beneath her legs and he lifted her effortlessly against his chest.
“I’m taking Nora to her room.”
She risked a glance at the room and found each of the guys stood, ready to catch her.
Seven
Invalid
Ryan was a much better nurse than the ones at the hospital. But at least there, Nora didn’t feel this overwhelming guilt because someone was taking care of her. The nurses were paid, it was their job to check in on her, even if they didn’t want to.
After a few days, she had learned Ryan lived a busy, over-scheduled life. It was hard to accept his help, knowing she was adding another item to his to-do list.
Each morning, he knocked on her door, and poked his head in. He’d helped her out of bed and then down the stairs. She’d nibble on toast he made her and then he’d helped her back upstairs into bed. She’d seen a few of the boys at breakfast this week, mostly Apollo, but sometimes, Cai.
This morning had started the same as the past three, except Apollo asked, “Want a smoothie?”
Ryan had just placed a plate with toast in front of her, so she shook her head at him. “Thank you, no. I’m still a bit off today.” She took a bite of her toast and then a swallow of the water he put in front of her. “Thanks. You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I’m making myself toast. It’s easy to make some for you.”
She tried not to let it bother her, but at every turn she put these guys out. Eventually, they’d come to resent it.
Except, they didn’t look resentful. When Ryan caught her staring, he smiled at her warmly.
“I'm out.” Apollo interrupted her train of thought.
“I've gotta go, too.” Cai put his mug in the sink. “Seok is dropping off the furniture this morning and I want to get it set up before the kids get there this afternoon.”
Ryan took a bite of toast and waved his hand at the two of them. “See you.”
Nora lifted a hand as well.
“See you!” Apollo gave her a smile.
Cai nodded, leaving behind Apollo. She sighed. Since when did a conversation exhaust her?
“You okay?”
She put the toast on the plate and wiped the crumbs from her fingertips. “I'm good. I'm going to head back up.”
“Hold on.” Ryan shoved the last bite of toast in his mouth and took a gulp of juice before grabbing his dish, and hers, and putting it in the sink. “Here.” He held out his arm and she reluctantly took it; another example of her imposing on him.
After making sure she had everything she needed, Ryan left to do homework. Alone, and with time to think, she made a decis
ion. She needed to start taking care of herself.
Of course, she immediately fell asleep, and awoke to Ryan bringing her lunch, after which she started to get sleepy again, but her stress eased knowing she had a plan.
It wasn’t until the next day she got the chance to put her money where her mouth was. With a morning full of classes, Ryan had to leave her, but promised to check on her at lunchtime.
“I’m okay,” she told him, reading the reluctance on his face. “You don’t have to rush back. I can make it down the hall on my own now.”
She hadn’t tried it yet, but she was nearly certain she could.
Easing the landline closer to her bed, he shook his head. “Here’s my number, here are all of our numbers. Promise to call if you need anything?”
“If I need something,” she agreed.
“I'm going to call and check in on you, so answer the phone when it rings.”
“But what if it's for someone else?”
“Everyone else has a cell phone. No one ever calls the landline.”
Oh. She felt a little bit better. She pictured herself stalking the halls, searching for the correct boy. It would take her forever. Eventually the person on the other end would hang up, and then she'd have to deliver a message something like, “Some one called you. No, I don't know who, because they hung up after waiting for 45 minutes.”
He headed to her door, snagging the backpack he left near the wall. “Are you sure you'll be okay?”
“I'm going to be fine. Don't worry about me.” She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
He narrowed his eyes, but put the backpack on his back and opened the door. “Answer the phone.”
“I said I would, Ryan.”
“It'll be about two hours.” He checked his watch.
She made a shooing motion with her hands. “I'm fine. Stop hovering.” She bit her lip as soon as she spoke. It slipped out. She didn't mean to sound ungrateful or bitchy.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, Nor.” He gave her another smile and then left, closing the door quietly behind him.
She was anxious, jittery. She wanted to move, being horizontal all day again wasn’t an option. Swinging her feet over the bed, she moved a little more vigorously than she should have. But the pain was duller than it had been. She pressed her feet against the ground, and stood slowly, keeping one hand on the headboard while she tested her strength. Her knees kept her upright, even if her head swam a little. She waited for the dizziness to pass and then took a tentative step forward. She felt okay. One more step, and then another, and she still didn't feel like she'd pass out.
If she kept her hand on the wall, and focused, she was good.
The house was quiet now. Perhaps all the guys had classes and she could have a little time in the kitchen by herself. She remembered the fancy one-cup coffee maker she'd seen on the counter, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than a cup.
Hesitantly, she lowered her foot to the first step, gripping the handrail tightly and waiting to see if she'd be able to make it. She risked another step, and then another, until she'd made it all the way down.
She shuffled into the kitchen. With her gaze glued to the floor, the huge figure at the counter startled her and she cried out, “Oh!”
“Jesus Christ!” A cup flew into the air, pink goo going one way, and the cup the other. Nora stared at the mess, horrified. There must have been a lot of goo in his cup, because not only did it cover most of Apollo, but it made a sizable puddle on the floor.
“Shit! I'm so sorry!” She shuffled quickly, her feet making a pathetic sanding sound along the floor, as she made her way to the paper towels.
“You scared the crap out of me.” Apollo walked around her, grabbing the paper towels and scooping the mess into a smaller pile.
“What can I do?” She shuffled back to him, hovering uselessly.
Unrolling another handful of paper towels, he shook his head. “I've got it. Go sit.” He stood, walking around her to throw the towels away and then got another bunch to finish cleaning what was left. She turned as he did, keeping her eyes on him. He took out cleaning wipes from underneath the sink, swiping them once across the floor before gesturing again to the table. “Sit. I'll be right back.”
He tossed the wipes into the garbage and then turned around, taking off his saturated t-shirt as he walked. Her eyes widened and her face heated as she got a glimpse of what Apollo’s t-shirt covered physique only hinted.
Muscles.
Muscles, muscles, muscles.
Her mind was a swirl of vocabulary: cut, built, stacked, ripped. All of the words applied to Apollo. He could be a model for a physiology class because she could make out every single muscle group of the arms and back. She shook her head, trying to clear it before he came back and found her drooling over him.
With the kitchen relatively clean now, the only things left out were the ingredients he used to make his smoothies. She picked up a container labeled, whey protein and decided to make him a replacement shake. It was the least she could do.
Those muscles needed protein; she didn’t want to deprive them. She read the directions on the container, and scooped the mixture into the blender. She threw in handfuls of frozen strawberries, and poured in cups of yogurt before eyeing the other ingredients uneasily. There was a bunch of leafy green... something. She picked it up and sniffed it. It wasn't lettuce, or spinach, but much thicker. She didn't know what it was, but surely it didn't go with strawberries. He could add the greenness after. She put the cover on the blender and began the machine, wincing when it whirred loudly. The sound made her second-guess herself. Now she was worried he would be mad she was using his stuff.
Once it stopped mixing, she opened the top to see if it was blended.
“Is that for me?”
She turned around, immediately entranced by Apollo’s stomach before it was covered by a t-shirt. Her eyes followed the bottom of the shirt before she whipped them back to his face. He wore an amused expression.
Damn. Caught.
She decided the best course of action was denial: about the gawking, not the smoothie. “Yes. I owed you, I think.”
“Join me, will you?” He reached into the cabinet, and grabbed two glasses before taking stock of the ingredients left.
“I didn't know about the green stuff,” she explained. “So I left it out.”
“Kale,” he chuckled. “And it's better to leave it out if you don't know how much to add. Trust me. It takes a certain touch.”
“Your touch?”
Come on, Nora! She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth for the second time in one morning, but he raised one eyebrow, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “Yep.”
She giggled before she could help herself.
“It's actually not so bad,” he continued, gesturing with his elbow to the table. He placed a glass on it, eyeing her and then the chair before seating himself.
She sat, unable to stop from groaning when she was finally off her feet. Accepting the glass he pushed her way, she picked it up, sniffing delicately before taking a sip.
“Of course, it’s delicious,” she said when she met his questioning glance. “It’s strawberries and yogurt.” She took another sip, and then another, until she drained the glass.
She could feel him watching her, but when she met his gaze, he looked away quickly, clearing his throat. Feeling awkward, she searched her mind for something to say, but her mind was blank.
Finally, Apollo broke the silence. “I’m glad you’re up. I was worried.”
“Why?”
Quickly, he masked his surprise. It made her uncomfortable, like he knew she was alone and had no one to rely on but herself.
Until Ryan. Ryan changed everything.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m glad you were comfortable enough to come downstairs.”
“I didn’t think anyone was home.”
What was wrong with her today? He was being nice and she continued to s
tick her foot in her mouth. “Ignore me, I don’t have a lot of practice talking to other people.”
Apollo chuckled the way Nora meant him to. If he was laughing to be nice, she’d take it, as long as he didn’t pity her.
She reached for his glass, but he held onto it. “I’m not quite done. I need another one, this time with the green stuff.” He winked at her again, and made his way to the blender.
She brought her glass to the sink and then turned to watch him closely. She wanted to remember how much of each ingredient he used so she could make him the smoothie the way he liked.
“So what do you want to do today?”
If he hadn’t turned the blender on immediately after asking, she was sure she’d have offered another blundering response. At least this way she had time to think about what to say. When the blender shut off and he began to pour out his concoction, she answered, “I need to walk more,” she began slowly. “That’s what the doctor told me. I thought this was a good start.” She gestured around the kitchen.
He nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his drink. “I can help you.”
“No, no.” She shook her head quickly. She didn’t want to be any more trouble than she already was. “I’m fine. I’ll try down the block and then home.”
He put his glass in the sink, turning his back to her. “Naw. I’ve got time. It’d be good practice for me.”
She continued to shake her head. “Don’t you have class or something?”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
He said it like he was joking, but she heard the edge of self-consciousness in his question. He really did wonder if she didn’t want to be around him.
Every interaction felt like a test right now, and she was failing miserably. She’d been alone too long, or maybe she’d always been this bad with people. She didn’t have the experience to measure this interaction against any other.
Finding Honor (The Searchers Book 1) Page 5