“What if I puke? Or faint? Do you really want to be around if that happens?”
He reached out a hesitant hand. She watched him carefully; his large hand took hers, dwarfing it before wrapping it around his forearm. Nora resisted the urge to squeeze and see if it was as hard as she suspected.
“If anything, you’ve guaranteed I’m staying with you. This may be a college town, and girls lying in puke are pretty common, but it’s not going to happen on my watch.”
She smiled at him and he grinned back at her. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and walked with her to the door.
“Are you sure?” She had to ask.
“Absolutely,”
“Where are you going?” Seok stood near the basement door, closing it lightly behind him and stepping forward.
“Nora needs to walk. I’m going with her.”
“Don’t you have class?”
It was one of those conversations within a conversation; there were all sorts of unsaid things for her to make assumptions about.
Apollo shook his head. “Lab day.”
“Ah.” Seok turned to her.
“Good morning, Seok,” she said. Something about the way he acted made her feel like she offended him.
He bowed his head to her, but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned around and went back downstairs. Her face heated. She definitely made some gigantic breach of etiquette.
“Should I apologize?” she asked Apollo.
He stared at the basement door with a hard look on his face. Her voice jolted him and he shook his head. “Naw. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just being weird.” Shaking his head, he grinned at her again. “Let’s go for our walk.”
Eight
Making Friends
Apollo kept his arm around her waist as they walked. It wasn’t to keep her upright so much as it was to bracket her body and catch her if she started to list from side to side. She was teeny tiny, but instead of making him feel like a huge and unwieldy giant, the way he usually did with smaller people, he felt like he was protecting her. They got some looks as they made their way along the block. A few of the kids next door raised their hands in greeting, but he wouldn’t let go of Nora, and all he could do was tilt his chin at them.
He couldn’t help but be impressed by her. She’d shuffled into the kitchen this morning hunched over like an old woman, but she pushed herself to stand straight, and to walk from heel to toe, even if her stride was short, and she had to stop every few steps.
“It hurts?” he asked her after she closed her eyes and took short shallow breaths.
She nodded, keeping her eyes shut tight. He put his hands on her shoulders and moved behind her. After a moment of tension, she relaxed into his grip.
“Take deeper breaths,” he told her. “Fill your belly instead of lifting your shoulders.”
She tried, but he felt her shoulders lift and her whole body contract in pain.
“Can I touch your belly?”
Immediately, her body tensed again.
“I want to show you how to do this. Nothing nefarious. I promise you.”
“Okay,” she answered hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he moved next to her, and gently placed his palm on her stomach. He noticed when he turned his hand to the side, he could span her waist from his fingertip to wrist. So much for not feeling like a giant.
Her body was soft, and though her waist pinched in, it curved into generous hips. He could feel her ribs where he touched her. She felt fragile and insubstantial, even though every action she took showed how tough she could be.
He tried to focus on his initial direction, and not the warmth coming from her skin. “When you breathe, push against my hand.”
Her small breath expanded her stomach slightly.
“Again,” he commanded, and she did. This time when she pushed against his hand, the air pushed from her belly to her chest. She made a small sound of contentment.
“That’s the first deep breath which actually helped me breathe,” she said, and did it again.
He kept his hand in place, waiting until she opened her eyes before stepping away.
“How did you know it would help?” she asked him.
Her stride was smoother now. “I’m a sports medicine major and I’m on the five year track to have my master’s in physical therapy.”
“Wow,” Nora said. “Well, it makes sense. Look at you.” As soon as she spoke, she shut her eyes and flushed red.
A laugh bellowed out of him. “Should I take that as a compliment?”
When she saw he wasn’t offended, she answered. “It’s because of your muscles. You’re all…” She waved toward his body, like it could fill in the word for her “… and the smoothies…” She trailed off, realizing every word she said dug her a deeper and deeper hole.
But he liked this conversation. It was good for his self-esteem, and he appreciated the compliment she gave him, however awkwardly.
“…but mostly the muscles.”
He laughed loudly now, not even trying to hide it. He held onto her, trying to be careful of jarring her, but each time he thought he had it under control, he caught a glimpse of her mortified face and started all over again.
“It’s okay,” he said, leaning to wipe his face against the sleeve of the arm holding her. “It’s fine.”
“When we get home, can you dig me a grave and I’ll plop myself in.”
“Relax.” He urged her to walk, but chuckled again. “I’m flattered. I work hard to be in shape. It’s important to me.”
“Why?” she asked.
Because it’s how I survive, he almost said, but caught himself in time.
There was something about this girl which made him want to spill all his secrets. He wondered how she’d react if he told her why it was imperative he stay in top physical form, but then he dismissed the thought. There was no way she would care what he did to support himself and, when needed, his best friends.
“Being healthy is important,” he hedged.
She made a sound of disbelief, but didn’t push. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”
Turning around carefully, she continued toward the house. As they got closer, her steps became shorter, and she began to shuffle again.
“Overdo it?”
“I don’t think so,” she answered, waiting for him to open the door and then climbing the two steps to the entryway. “I’m more wobbly than sore.” She stumbled over the lip of the frame and he caught both her arms.
“Come on Wonder Woman, I’ll carry you upstairs.” Gently easing her legs over his arm, he brought her into his chest.
He liked it. He really really liked it.
“I shouldn’t be all right with this, but I am,” she sighed, resting her head on his pec.
I shouldn’t be either. He got to her room and eased her onto the bed. The guest room was spartan. “There’s nothing to do in here.”
Looking around, she shrugged. “I’ve been sleeping a lot, and when I’m awake, Ryan’s usually with me.”
“Hold on.” He left her there and went into his room, grabbing his old laptop and choosing a few books from the shelf.
When he returned to her room, she pushed herself to sitting, smiling at the pile of things in his arms.
“What’s all this?”
“Some stuff for you to do when no one is here.” He put the things next to her. She chose a book and smiled, reading aloud one title and then the next, “The Perfect Mile… Relentless.”
She turned them over and began reading the backs. “These look great. Thanks.”
He shrugged. “I liked them.”
The phone rang, interrupting whatever it was she was going to say. They both reached for it, but he got there first. “Hello, Ryan.”
“Apollo. Hey. How’s Nora?”
“She’s good. We went for a walk and now she’s resting.”
“Oh yeah? Not too far, right?”
“I’ve got it, man. Don’t worry. Want to talk to her?”
“Yes, please,” he answered.
Apollo handed the phone to Nora, noticing the way her face softened when she heard Ryan’s voice. “I’m fine… No, not bored at all… Okay, I’ll talk to you this afternoon, then.” She held out the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Hey.”
“Thanks,” Ryan began. “For checking on her and keeping her company. I’ve been worried.”
“I get it. We’re good. I have the gym this afternoon, but most of my day is going to be spent eating and studying, which I can do with Nora.” Her eyes crinkled in a smile as she nodded, agreeing with him.
“You still planning to fight?” he asked.
For some reason, he couldn’t look at her while talking about fighting. “Yup.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, see you later.”
“Yeah. Bye.” He met Nora’s amused glance.
“You have very efficient conversations,” she remarked.
He laughed. “Mind if I grab my homework and come back?”
“Not at all. That’d be great.” Her smile was so wide and happy he had the urge to kiss her.
He put the brakes on his thoughts, but then, why not? Not right this minute, but maybe when she was feeling better. Maybe he could ask her out. Take her somewhere. She watched him, and he realized he was staring, lost in his thoughts.
Feeling his face heat, he stood quickly. “I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving. His stomach was in knots. Nora brought something out in him, something he thought he’d lost.
***
It was hard not to watch her, and he wasn’t getting much work done. It wasn’t like him. If he had a task, he focused, and he executed. But now he listened for the tiny sounds Nora made, like the gasp when she tweaked her stitches, or the way she took deep belly-breaths the way he showed her.
He heard the pages of the book rustle, and her body shift. Sliding down the bed, she put the book next to her and stared at the ceiling.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Just thinking.” She smiled half-heartedly at him.
“What's the matter?
She shook her head.
He put his highlighter in the book and closed it before walking to the bed. “You mind?” He looked at the space next to her pointedly.
“Okay.” She hesitated a moment and then slid to the side, making room for him. “I don't think you'll fit.”
He lay next to her, and lifted his arm, patting his chest. “Try this.”
A blush stained her dusky skin. “I...”
“Come on, Nora.” He made it a challenge. “I don't bite.”
She sighed, and eased toward him slowly, watching him the whole time. He kept his eyes on hers, his arm lifted, waiting. Her hand touched him first, sliding across his shirt and tucking behind his back. Her cheek came to rest against his chest, her weight negligible.
“I'm not too heavy?”
“Please.”
“Seriously. Heads are heavy.”
He chuckled. She rubbed her cheek back and forth across his shirt and he stopped laughing. She squeaked when she caught herself. “I'm sorry.”
“It's okay.” His voice came out low and deep.
She edged away from him, but he tightened his arm around her shoulders. “It's fine.” He lifted his other hand, bringing it to her elbow and slowly stroking her arm to her shoulder, and then back to her hand again.
He didn't question her. If she wanted to talk, she would. Her breath evened out, getting slower and deeper. Pushing his head back into the pillow, he saw her eyelashes fanned across her cheeks.
She was asleep, and he was stuck. Unable to reach his book, he groaned with frustration. His fingertips grazed the spine, but all he managed to do was push it farther away from him. Okay, forget it. Time to be in the moment. He propped his hand beneath his head and closed his eyes. He focused on his own breathing, and tried to copy Nora's, syncing each inhalation and exhalation until he, too, fell asleep.
***
“Apollo.”
He swatted the voice away, trying to find the source and push it out of the room.
“Apollo.” The voice was a little louder this time and he felt Nora startle awake.
“Hi, Ryan.”
Apollo opened reluctant eyelids. “Hey.”
As she pushed away from him, he sat, putting his glasses on top of his head and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “What time is it?”
“Almost three. I texted you. I was worried.”
His phone sat next to his book. “Yeah. Sorry.”
Ryan’s face softened when he looked at Nora. “How are you feeling?”
Caught mid-yawn, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I'm good. Lots of exercise.”
Shifting his gaze back to Apollo, he asked, “You have the gym, right?”
“Oh shit,” he answered, jumping out of bed. “Yeah. Shit. Okay.” He turned to Nora. “I'll see you tomorrow. Okay? I won't be back until late.”
She nodded at him. “Thanks for everything.”
“Anytime.” He grabbed his books, hesitating at the door.
She lifted her hand, giving him a small wave. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with her, learn about her, be there to ask what she was thinking. But he knew she wasn't ready for that, because when it had been him, when he was the one overwhelmed by the world, the only way he'd survived was with his friends, and by their presence, and the comfort they gave him just by being there.
Nine
Responsibilities
Nora was making friends.
At least, she thought she was. She couldn't really be sure, because she hadn't had a lot of them. The ones from school had all been friendships of convenience.
Her day with Apollo gave her the first taste of what it felt like when someone wanted to be her friend. He wanted to get to know her, and while she wasn't ready to confide her thoughts yet, she thought someday, maybe, she could be.
Today she had wonderful company. Apollo was gone, but Ryan did his homework with her. He had a different process than Apollo. When she could be sure Apollo wouldn't notice, she watched him. He was restrained energy; his foot jiggled, his pen tapped, he bit his highlighter.
Ryan was calm and systematic.
He also did all his work on the floor, which was a little weird, but also adorable.
Yes, she decided. Ryan is adorable.
He balanced his laptop on his crossed knees, chewing on his pencil. Book upon book was open and spread around him. He would lean forward, consulting one book and then type furiously before crossing something out in another book and then typing away again.
The way he worked, the way he stayed so utterly focused fascinated her. She felt like she could see his brain working. There was a time she'd worked like that, too. When things were intellectually challenging, when she'd been learning and dissecting knowledge, forming her own opinions and world views. She hadn’t been challenged in a long time. There wasn't much need for it when she was replacing paper towels with the other housekeeping staff, or counting change for scratchers at the MiniMart.
She wished she could lie on her stomach and watch him closer, maybe read over his shoulder, but it would be rude, and it would kill with her stitches. Starting the book Apollo loaned her, she found herself too distracted to continue. She wanted Ryan’s attention. “Are you comfortable there?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t look away from his computer.
She waited, but apparently he was done talking. She opened her book, but read the same sentence over and over. “Are you sure?”
This time he looked over at her smiled. “I'm sure. I usually use the kitchen table, but this works fine.”
When she stood, he jumped into action, pushing his laptop off his legs and sweeping his books out of the way. “Whoa,” he said. “Hold on. What are you doing?”
“Let's go downstairs, if you
're more comfortable there.”
Gathering up his things, he argued, “I’m good here.” He shifted his pile to one arm and held the other one out to her.
“I'm doing okay with the standing.”
He waited, and she rolled her eyes, finally grasping his arm. Halfway down the steps, she was grateful for it. The exercise she'd done today exhausted her, and her legs did not want to support the rest of her body. She held tightly to him with one hand, and the railing with the other, stumbling a little on the final few stairs.
“Almost there,” he whispered.
She nodded; concentrating so hard on making it to the kitchen she didn't realize anyone else was in there until she was seated.
“Hi,” she said, meeting Seok and Matisse’s gaze.
Seok nodded at her, then grabbed the kerchief sitting on the table in front of him and tied back his hair. It accentuated the angles of his face, making him seem even harder and less approachable. He went into the basement, closing the door behind him with a decisive, yet controlled, slam.
Matisse lifted a hand in greeting before checking his phone, his fingers moving quickly over the screen.
Ryan dropped his books on the table, and began the process of arranging them again. With both of the guys working on their own stuff, she was left with nothing to do. She cracked her knuckles, taking in all the kitchen details she missed.
“Seok did most of it,” Matisse said quietly.
“Really?” She’d been examining the molding around the windows and the trim along the bottom of the walls. “It must have taken forever.”
When Matisse chuckled, she realized it was the first time she heard him laugh. “Wait until I show you the rest of the house.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. This little taste of friendliness felt like a huge thing. Checking the time on the clock over the microwave, she noted how late it was. “Can I make us dinner tonight?”
“You don't need to cook,” Ryan answered without lifting his head.
Finding Honor Page 6
