“Great, thank you again,” he says sincerely as he blows up the mattress.
I quietly make my way outside, and it feels like I’m gulping in the fresh air. It could be because I’ve been holding my breath since the moment he arrived. It takes me two trips to bring it all in. I take a moment to notice how muscular and fit he is as he arranges his area. When the pump stops, I clear my throat to get his attention.
“That's all you have to eat?” I blurt out when I notice his bag of snacks.
Noah nods. “Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.”
“Alright well...I have a lot to do today, so I’m gonna get started,” I tell him as I bounce between my feet.
“Anything I can help you with?” He cocks a brow.
I inhale sharply, not wanting to snap at him again. “As I said before, I don’t want your help.”
“Well, you just said you had a lot to do, and I’m basically doing nothing, so…”
His arrogant smirk has my blood boiling. Yeah, he’s gonna stay out of my way, my ass.
“How about a quick house tour then?” he asks when I don’t respond.
I let out a sigh. “Fine, as long as you don’t make any more negative comments.”
“Deal.”
He follows me out of the bedroom, and I swear I can feel his eyes burning through me.
After I show him the guest bathroom, dining room, and living room, we make our way to the second floor, which is awkward as hell. Silence lingers other than the hum of a small space heater.
“This is a lot of house,” Noah finally says once we’re back downstairs. “But I see why you bought it. Has a lot of potential.”
“It really does,” I agree. “I envision myself growing old here and hopefully playing with my grandkids someday, but anyway, I really only get the weekends to work on it.”
“So no time to date then, I assume?” He crosses his arms as he moves closer.
My heart drops into my stomach, and I take a step back.
Whether it’s due to shock or anger is yet to be determined.
“Do you honestly think that’s an appropriate thing to ask me?” I snap. “We’re not having this conversation. You aren’t here to chat, got it? This is a favor to Gemma and your dad. Not for you.” My cheeks heat, and I somewhat feel bad for blowing up at him, but I have a decade of pent-up anger inside me.
Instead of being insulted or walking away with his tail between his legs, the motherfucker smirks. “You haven't changed a damn bit, Katie Walker.”
My last name is Reid, which he knows.
Noah chuckles. “It was always so damn easy to rile you up.”
I want to be so angry with him for pushing me away, but I also still miss him more than I want to admit. Having him here is a reminder of everything I lost.
After six hours of working, my back aches, and my stomach growls. Before I left this morning, I put a roast and potatoes in the slow cooker so I wouldn’t have to cook dinner. Though I’m not happy Noah’s here invading my space and head, I won’t let him go hungry. He stayed out of my way for most of the day. Later, I find him reading a book on his bed.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab dinner and bring it here.”
When he looks up at me, it’s almost as if time stands still and we’re teenagers again. It’s the same look he used to give me that melted my heart every damn time I saw him.
"Okay.”
I only live ten minutes away, so it takes me no time to round up everything. I freshen up in the bathroom before I grab a few drinks and the slow cooker, then bring it out to my car.
Shortly after I return, my mother shows up with Owen. I hurry and meet them outside, not giving her the opportunity to find Noah bunkered inside. She grabs Owen’s bag from the trunk and hands it to him.
“How was your day?” I ask.
“It was good. We had milkshakes after practice.” Owen grins.
“Lovely, nice and sugared up for dinner.” I chuckle.
“What are grandmas for?” My mom smirks.
“I'll see you later this week. Thanks for taking him to practice and hanging out with him so I could work.”
“No problem. You know I love doing it, even if he can be exhausting at times.” She smiles at Owen before engulfing him into a hug. Once she’s in her car, we both wave goodbye, then head back toward the house.
“Is Noah still here?”
I place my hand on his shoulder as we go inside. “Yes. He’ll probably be here for at least a week.”
His lips tilt up. “I didn't say anything to anyone.”
“That’s good.”
The aromas from the roast and potatoes float through the air as we walk to the kitchen. Owen sets up the small card table and folding chairs I keep in the closet for when we eat dinner here. I put the food on three plates as Owen sets out the forks.