Page 22 of The Workaholic Down the Hall

Noah was meticulous about following instructions, so clearly he was off his game or he'd followed a faulty recipe. “Where did you find this recipe?”

He stood and grabbed the empty pasta box off the counter and handed it to me. It really did say to mix meat, cheese, sauce, and noodles in a casserole dish and bake for twenty-five minutes. “Clearly, this recipe was meant more as a suggestion to someone who's made baked ziti before.”

“So, it's inedible?”

“Raw meat and uncooked noodles probably aren't the recommended diet for a pregnant woman.”

“Right.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I can probably throw together something—”

“Noah, I know you can't cook. I've lived with you, remember? The freezer's full of microwave dinners.”

“Why didn't you tell me that before I made this mess?”

“You promised me home-made baked ziti. I haven't seen you in eight months. I figured you'd picked up a new skill.”

His smile was weak. We still had so much to talk about. He bent and dug through the freezer. “You want pasta or…A meat dish.”

“Pasta.”

He pulled out two boxes and put them on the counter. He took his time reading the directions, opened the boxes, punctured the plastic and shoved the first one in the microwave.

“I shouldn't have just quit my job, quit you the way I did,” I said, while the microwave hummed. “I'm sorry.”

“Why did you?” He turned to face me, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I know it was a mistake for us to sleep together, but why couldn't we just move past it?”

Shit. I wasn't ready to lay down so much truth, but if we were going to be friends again, if we were going to raise this baby together, I couldn't fake it with him. “I couldn't just move past it, because I didn't think it was a mistake. I thought it was the start of something. When you didn't remember…I just couldn't pretend as well as you could, I guess.”

He stared at me, shock clear in every line of his expression. I'd known he'd never felt for me what I'd felt for him, but this confirmed it and the last bit of hope I'd been holding onto deflated and crashed into the remains of my broken heart. “Shit, Aubrey. I'm sorry. I—”

“I know,” I said. “To you it was just a night of too much booze and ending up in bed with the wrong woman. It's nothing you have to apologize for. It's not like we planned it or had a chance to set boundaries. It just happened.” Like two cars crashing into one another, there was no stopping once he'd started kissing me, even when I knew damn well it was just physical to him. “I read more into it than I should have and that's on me. I shouldn't have walked away like I did.”

“I shouldn't have pretended it never happened,” he said. “If we'd talked about it…”

“It is what it is, Noah. There's no room in either of our lives for regrets. We just have to move forward.”

I stood and cleared the table, throwing away the inedible casserole. He placed the microwaved dishes on the table with forks. “What's next on our do-nothing day agenda?” I asked as he sat.

Noah shrugged, his gaze distant. “Monopoly?”

***

I rubbed my eyes and stared at the filling coffee pot, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting around me. I'd tell Noah I'd made it for him, but I really just wanted to breathe it in and hope to gain some more energy by osmosis. I'd slept terribly, unable to get comfortable, and I missed coffee with a longing most people probably reserved for lost loved ones. I took two steps back from the pot and forced myself into a seat at the kitchen table. I'd have to settle for the bowl of cereal I'd fixed myself.

Noah sauntered in, looking good enough to eat in a faded t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. His hair was mussed from sleep, sheet creases still on his face. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, took a sip, and turned. His eyes popped wide when he saw me. “I didn't know you were in here.”

I didn't think he needed a response, so I just shoveled in another bite of cereal.

“What's the plan for the day?” he asked. “I'm up for anything, except Monopoly. I'd like to pretend I have some dignity left.”

“Dignity'sallyou have left. I have all your hotels, properties, and cash.”

He winced. “It was an off night.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

The doorbell interrupted my journey from the table to the sink with my empty bowl. I walked to the front door, Noah close on my heels. Oscar stood on the porch, his smile not dimming in the least when he saw Noah behind me. “Hi, Aubrey,” he said. He waved to Noah. “Hey, I'm Oscar.” He turned his attention back to me. “Are you still up for a day of touring Catalpa Creek?”

“Oh, Oscar, I completely forgot. Noah um, showed up unexpectedly, but…”

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