“Seriously, Noah, are you okay?” Ellie asked.
I only nodded. She’d already asked me eight times in church if I was okay. I didn’t have a new answer for her. And the truth was too inappropriate to voice.
Church. Praise Jesus and all that shit. During Georgie’s suicide attempt, while holding her in my arms and watching her almost die, I’d made a deal with God. Let her live and I’ll start going to church again. My memaw, the grandma who had believed in ghosts, used to take me with her when I was younger. After Memaw had her stroke and was no longer able to care for me, I’d been passed along to the next relative who would take me. Uncle Joe. Joe hadn’t believed in anything but booze and target practice on Sundays. God disappeared from my life, and I used to think ‘good riddance.’ But I hadn’t missed a Sunday in four months now, and I didn’t hate going.
Besides, it sure was fun to watch Ellie singing and dancing along to every hymn. But today was different; today I was off. Ellie had easily noticed, and I was finding it harder than hell to get back on track.
We turned into the parking lot of The Presidential Swing—a miniature golf course featuring USA themed decorations and whatnot. Lame, yes. But it was mine and therefore I was insanely proud to be called ‘co-owner.’ Ellie and I had taken over the place roughly three years ago, and I was honored by the way happenstance had led that to happen. I parked at the end of the parking lot and followed Ellie toward the main building—where refreshments, rounds of mini golf, and buckets of balls for the driving range were sold. Kill Devil Hills, sandwiched between the towns of Nags Head and Kitty Hawk, was part of the northernmost portion of the Outer Banks and around here miniature golf courses were like pizza places in New York City—plentiful. But business was plentiful too, and we’d managed to turn a decent profit the past three summers. I only hoped this summer would be the same.
“Hi, Patrick,” Ellie said as we came inside the building and approached the counter. Three employees were currently working inside—two summer hires (Patrick and another girl about his same age) and Jill, the supervising manager.
Jill gave me a big smile and a wink. The flirtatious woman was in her early thirties with big green eyes and red hair she typically wore in a ponytail. I didn’t know too much about Jill. Sure, she’d been working here about as long as I had, which was almost eight years now, but we’d never been closer than casual acquaintances. She was a hard-working employee, always on time, but I liked keeping my relationship with her very surface. In fact, besides Ellie and a couple others, that was exactly how I kept all my relationships.
“Noah and I need to speak with you in the break room,” Ellie said to Patrick. Her normally booming voice had softened. “Right now, please.”
Patrick—about eighteen, skinny, with short, spiky hair—looked like he was about to piss himself. He didn’t once even glance in my direction as he left his spot and moved toward the back of the building. Jeez, I thought sarcastically, this was going to be about as fun as walking across hot coals barefoot. The three of us squeezed ourselves into the empty break room. I left the door slightly ajar behind us.
“I’m sure you already know what this is about,” Ellie said, motioning for Patrick to sit in one of the chairs. He sat and then Ellie sat in the second chair across for him. I remained standing. “I caught you stealing yesterday, and we don’t tolerate that here. I’m really sorry. Seriously, I wish things could have been different because I thought you were going to be a good employee when we hired you, but we’re going to have to let you go.” She shrugged like she didn’t give a shit when I knew she really did. “It’s policy. You shouldn’t have stolen.”
Patrick buried his face in his hands. “I promise it will never happen again,” he whimpered. “Give me one more chance. I need this job.”
“I’m sorry, but you already had your chance and you blew it. There are plenty of other kids your age who’d love to have this summer job—plenty of others I won’t have to worry about stealing.” Ellie stood, her face stone-cold and decided. “You’ll get paid through today. Take a few moments and then please leave.”
Then Ellie ‘the bad-ass cop’ walked past us both, leaving me alone with Patrick.
“If you want you can reapply next summer,” I told the sniffling boy. “I can’t make any promises, but if you’re around Kill Devils and looking for a job, we’ll consider you at that time.”
Shit.
I hardly knew what else to say. Ellie had already said it all. I walked out of the break room and toward the front of the store. Jill and the other girl were helping some customers. Ellie had already disappeared, but I knew my friend, and I knew where I could find her.
Cutting across the parking lot, I went straight for Ellie’s car. Sure enough, she was inside—bawling her eyes out. I hadn’t seen her cry this hard since Ben’s death. As tough as she appeared on the outside, she was soft as hell on the inside.
Pulling open the passenger door, I joined her in the car. “You’re amazing,” I said. I wrapped one arm around her. “I thought I was supposed to be the bad cop. In fact, I’m a little pissed off. I was looking forward to firing the kid.”
She huffed out a resemblance of a laugh.
“I’m proud of you, Ellie. You didn’t need me.”
“Yes, I did,” she sniffled.
We sat silently for a few minutes while she finished crying.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” I suggested. “It’s not even busy today. You deserve a day off after that. Just come back and pick me up around close.”
“I’m sorry I was giving you such a hard time this morning. You seem fine now.”
“I’m not exactly fine,” I said, thinking of how I’d reacted so easily to her little sister this morning. Frankly, it was fucked up, and I was still upset at myself over that.
“What? Do you want to talk about it?” Ellie asked, switching gears instantly. Now her concern was only for me.
“No, I don’t. Not yet, at least.” I climbed out of the car, hanging on the open door for a moment. “Get out of here,” I told her. “Go get your nails done or some shit like that.”
“Shut your mouth!” she barked at me, laughing, and then sped away.
* * *
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I had to dodge a few unwanted passes from Jill, but that was typical. Ellie came back a little after eleven to pick me up. The evenings were our busiest times and despite my decent night’s sleep with Georgie, I was exhausted by the end of the day.
Ellie and I lived in a modest three-bedroom, two bath single family home. We’d rented here for two years now—us and our roommate Rhett. Ellie was quiet on the drive home and even more so when we arrived home. She said goodnight and disappeared into her room. I disappeared into mine, getting ready for bed.
Finally, alone for the first time all day—alone with my thoughts. I usually craved time alone and enjoyed the quiet. But all thoughts were reverting back to Georgie. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with me? I tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. I guess I was worrying again—worrying about Georgie and the possibility that nothing was okay with her. Dammit, would my stressing over her ever end? Not to mention, thinking in a totally different direction—I also couldn’t help but wonder where the girl had ended up sleeping tonight. Was Georgie in her bed or mine?
Before I turned eighteen, before I was able to escape living under the same roof as my uncle, I’d often snuck out and spent the night at Ellie’s house. The bottom level made it very easy to come and go, although I’m pretty sure Mrs. Turner was well aware that I used to spend the night at her house. So many of my nights were spent staying in the guestroom that I still tended to think of it as my own. Foolish, yes, but it had been the only place I’d felt safe during that time. And thinking about Georgie snuggled under of the covers of my old bed was doing something funny to my brain. And to be honest, it was doing unwelcome things to other parts of my body, as well.
Holy shit.
I lef
t my bed for a glass of water. Maybe I would dump it on my head.
The clock on the stove read two in the morning. Hell, when did it get so late? I started digging in the cupboard, still fucked in the brain, when my shaky hands accidently dropped a glass onto the kitchen floor. It shattered, little pieces of glass scattering all across the tile floor. The noise sounded like a gun shot against the still, dark night.
“Ah!” Ellie yelled from her room. “What was that?!”
A moment later she came stumbling out into the living room—like a zombie awakening from the dead. Rhett came out of his room next. I hadn’t even realized he was home. Behind him stood a blonde. I vaguely recognized her. She was probably one of what Ellie called his ‘bar bunnies’—the girls who frequented the bar his cover band played at on the weekends and more often frequented his bed.
Rhett had a baseball bat in his hand. Was he going to beat us all to death?
“Put down the bat, Rhett,” I said, calmly. “You couldn’t hit for shit even when you were on the Daredevils, and it was me who made the noise.” I motioned to the shattered glass.
Bar Bunny laughed.
“What?” Rhett asked, rubbing a hand over his closely shaved head as he set the bat down. “What are you doing anyway? Other than breaking shit?”
“There was a rat,” I lied. The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“And you decided to throw a glass at it?” Rhett asked, chuckling.
I shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Wait, what?” Ellie asked, suddenly wide awake. “Did you just say rat? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. First, we had those weird silverfish bugs and now rats! I’m getting the hell outta here. Now!” She turned on her heel and disappeared into her room. Less than ten seconds later she returned with her wallet and keys. “I know you and your OCD can’t handle disease-carrying rats—let’s go, Noah. I’m too tired for this bullshit. We’re going to Mom’s.”
“I don’t have OCD,” I mumbled.
“Like hell you don’t. I’ll be in the car. Clean up the glass because I know you need to. I’d offer to help, but you’d just criticize the way I clean.” She shook her head and went for the front door. “Meet me outside when you’re finished. Please, try not to take all night.”
Rhett laughed, not caring about my ‘rat’ or my so-called ‘OCD.’ “C’mon, sugar,” he said to the girl, probably unable to remember her name. “Let’s go back to bed. Ellie’s right; Noah is particular about cleaning so it’s better to leave him alone.” He pulled on the girl’s arm, leading her back toward his bedroom. She didn’t put up an ounce of fight as she disappeared with Rhett behind his door.
Taking a deep breath, I hurried to clean all the glass off the floor. First I swept, then I vacuumed, and then I swept again. After that, I filled a backpack with a few things to take over to the Turner’s, and I did it all while fighting the urge to sweep for a third time. I didn’t have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but I did need to keep a certain level of order in my life. Ellie and Rhett liked to tease me about it, but I didn’t care.
By the time Ellie and I drove the short distance over to the Turner’s house, it was after three in the morning. The neighborhood streets in Kill Devil Hills didn’t have big street lights, but the moon was full and bright tonight. It cast an eerie glow, and if ghosts were real, they’d be out tonight. Ellie stumbled from the car, through the door, and toward her old room in the basement. I went for the guest bedroom.
“Night, Ellie,” I whispered.
She mumbled something that sounded closer to Spanish than English. Then she closed herself in her room. It took several breaths, but I turned the knob to enter the guest room. Anticipation churned in my stomach like rancid acid.
Somehow, I knew Georgie would be on the other side. And where last night I knew nothing would come from sharing a bed with her, tonight I wasn’t quite as certain.
CHAPTER 6
GEORGINA
Caught between dreaming and consciousness, I blinked my eyes open. Someone or something had woken me. “Georgie?” A deep voice cut through the darkness and vibrated through me as I felt the intruder rest a hand on my shoulder. “Georgie, wake up.”
“Noah?” I asked, rolling over. Was I still dreaming? “What?”
“It’s late,” said the voice. “I’m sorry to wake you, but can I share the bed with you again?”
I had to be dreaming, but it was a sweet-ass dream. “Okay.”
“You’re on my side.”
Somehow, I managed to end up in Noah’s spot again during my sleep. Oops. But before I could move, the dark figure in my room crawled in under the covers with me. Holy hell! He used his body to move mine toward the middle of the bed, but he didn’t roll away after he had me where he wanted me. The invisible line that had separated us last night was pretty freaking non-existent right about now. And suddenly, I was wide awake.
Oh. My. Gosh!
Noah Clark was in bed with me, and he was snuggling me! Not just snuggling. We were fucking spooning!
Now—obviously, I knew I wasn’t dreaming because this reality was far better than a dream. His strong arms engulfed me and held my body flushed against his. The waterbed dipped slightly under our shared weight, creating a taco effect. And if he wasn’t caging me in so tightly right now, I’d pinch myself because I had to be hallucinating. My poor heart—it was beating like mad inside my chest. I tried to breathe evenly, hoping Noah couldn’t hear how easily he was affecting me, but I couldn’t really hide it.
“Is this really happening?” I asked him between ragged breaths.
“Yes,” he said, not even the least bit fazed. Was it normal for him to crawl into bed with a random person and hug them so tightly? I thought the guy was pretty standoffish. “Go to sleep, Georgie. I won’t hurt you or touch you more than this. I slept really easily last night being near you. I want to see how well I can sleep being even closer.”
Wow. I was never going to be able to fall asleep again.
“I know you would never hurt me,” I whispered.
“Good.”
It took almost twenty minutes in his arms before I started to relax. And when I did it happened all at once like a giant wave sweeping over me. Uncomfortableness was replaced by an easy bliss. And once I accepted it, I realized how nice being held by Noah was. There was no pressure of any kind. No expectations. No anything. Just him and me, the night, and this room. I shifted, finding a more comfortable position. I ended up with my face tucked in close against his chest.
He chuckled lightly. “Better now?”
I didn’t answer. I was too comfortable to care about anything anymore. Sleep hit me hard.
* * *
My pillow shifted, waking me. It was morning, and I literally groaned out loud because of it. “No,” I whined. “Don’t move.”
“You’re making that impossible.” Cracking my eyes open, I remembered that I’d cuddled with Noah last night. The plaid of his pajama pants came into focus, and I realized that I was currently using his lower stomach as a pillow, dangerously close to his…goodies.
I sat up super-fast.
Noah smiled at me, not even affected by the fact that I’d just had my face practically in his lap. I tried to remember if I’d ever seen him smile before. He should do it more often—he had a really nice smile.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, bringing my knees to my chest.
“I’m not,” he answered.
Blood rushed to my cheeks. “Did you sleep better with me?” I asked. I had to ask.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Do you have sleeping problems?”
He shrugged, telling me I shouldn’t push him on the subject. But I’d just had my face basically in his crotch so I think I deserved to know exactly what last night meant to him.
“Hey,” I said, half-joking half-serious, “I’m the fucked-up one who tried to kill herself—a little insomnia kind of pales in comparison. So it’s really okay; you can answer m
y question if you want to.”
He sat up, moving into my personal space. His hands pushed my hair aside and gripped the sides of my face, forcing me to look him directly in the eyes. We were inches apart and my heart started racing. Despite getting to snuggle with him all night long, his touch now wasn’t quite as gentle, and that roughness had my full attention. “You’re not fucked-up,” he whispered, his voice so serious that I almost believed him. “Don’t ever say that again. And yes, I have insomnia. Or rather, nightmares.”
I swallowed hard, remembering why I’d always found him so intimidating. He could probably kill someone with his bare hands. “Well, I’m glad I helped your insomnia.” I pulled out of his grip and climbed out of bed. “Maybe you should consider getting a dog. They’re good at snuggling, too.”
“What?” he asked confused. He didn’t get it. I’d wanted last night to mean something and to him it meant nothing. I was an experiment—one that worked, but nonetheless still an experiment.
I took a deep breath, left the room, and closed the door behind me. I hurried for the stairs, trying not to feel hurt by Noah and instead bumped into Ellie. She was coming down the stairs, blocking my way up. It couldn’t have been later than eight in the morning and my sister was already fully dressed for the day—in cargo shorts and a white t-shirt. “There you are. We have rats!”
“What the hell?”
“Noah and I have rats at our house,” she clarified, taking a bite of the Pop-Tart in her hand. “Disgusting, right? That’s why he and I had to spend the night here last night. Noah’s asleep in the guestroom. I’m going to the store to get some rat poison or traps or whatever the hell I need to buy to kill those dirty little bastards. Want to come with me?”
Kill Devil Hills: A Complete Beach Romance Series (4-Book Box Set) Page 4
