Page 4 of Norah

“Looking for torture devices?” It sounds funnier before I say it, and then I worry she’ll think I’m serious. But Norah just gives me another small smile.

“It looks safe. But then, aren’t people usually the ones who can cause the most pain with no device at all?”

She’sclearlybattling some demons. But I can’t help but wonder if I could be the person to help her fight them. While Norah continues looking around, I try to sneak a few glances at her. She’s even prettier than I thought before; her hair turning dark chestnut as it dries, and striking blue-gray eyes. Her skin looks incredibly soft, and I can see the tiniest smattering of freckles across her nose. But she’s still wet and cold, and I need to make sure she’s being taken care of properly.

“I’m sure you want a shower. I can lend you some clothes to wear until we can get yours washed and dried.” Walking to the bathroom, I flip on the light and pull some towels from the closet. “After you’re done, I’ll shower, and then I can make us something to eat if you like.” I’m rewarded by another one of Norah’s tiny smiles, as she takes the towels from me and heads into the bathroom.

“Thank you, Ethan.”

NORAH

I can’t believe I’m here. Finding myself in the apartment of a man I met only hours ago is such a diversion from my self-imposed rules; I’m actually shocked at myself for allowing it.

The entire car ride, I kept thinking of reasons not to come to Ethan’s apartment. I could claim I remembered someone to stay with, or pretend to go into the hospital but sneak out instead. The list went on and on. But I kept coming back to the main reason I was still here; I didn’t want to leave him yet.

As I stand in the shower, hot water chasing the chill of the night, I think of Ethan. He’s gorgeous, but kind of rough, too. He seems powerful, unafraid. His face is striking, with strong cheekbones and intense green eyes, with a Romanesque nose and naturally tan skin that hints at some southern European heritage. He must be well over six feet, since he towers over me at only 5’2”.

He’s got lots of muscles; not all bulky, but toned and defined. In my old life, I would have been throwing myself at his feet. Now… I just want a night to be near him, and to remember what it felt like to be normal.

I realize I’m going to use all the hot water before Ethan gets his shower, and jump out guiltily. He’s left me some clothes that are a bit too large, but are clearly a woman’s. I fight the irrational jealousy that flares up, and comb through my hair with only a few rougher than usual tugs.

Ethan is standing by the kitchen counter, and he smiles at me as I walk out of the bathroom. “How do the clothes fit? They belong to my sister, and she’s taller than you.”

His sister? Phew. “They’re good. Thanks. Sorry for being in there so long.”

“It’s no problem. Are you finally feeling warmer?” He studies me like he’s looking for after-effects from my recent dip in the river.

“Yeah, I’m much warmer now. Thanks.”

“OK…” He hesitates, then goes on, “I’ll take a super quick shower, and then I can make you something to eat? Or you can grab something to drink from the fridge. Whatever you want; make yourself comfortable.” Pausing again, he asks, “Just… don’t leave while I’m in there, please? I meant it when I said I wanted to make sure you’re OK tonight.”

How can I say no when he’s so sweet? Which is why, against my better judgment yet again, I agree. “I won’t leave. I promise.” Ethan nods, looking pleased, and slips into the bathroom. In his absence, I wander around the living room, looking for clues about this man who has so entranced me.

The room is simply decorated, mostly in green and wood tones. There’s a comfortable-looking couch, and an armchair draped with what must be one of Ethan’s shirts. Bookshelves surround the TV, with a collection of books and photos neatly displayed.

There’s a mishmash of titles, mostly mystery and suspense, with a few non-fiction about history mixed in. The photos draw most of my attention, noticing several with a smiling Ethan surrounded by what appears to be his family. He looks younger in the pictures, and I see nothing more recently taken.

There’s one small photo of a younger Ethan wearing a Navy uniform. His expression is serious, but his eyes hold a twinkle of excitement. I’d estimate that Ethan is around thirty, and I wonder if he’s still in the Navy. I’d guess some other career, since his hairstyle is more tousled, not the typical buzz cut I associate with the military.

Just as I crouch down to look at some games on the lower shelves, Ethan walks out of the bathroom and my gaze is drawn to him like an arrow. His damp hair is wavy, and he looks even more fit than before, with a T-shirt hugging his muscles. As he walks towards me, I catch his same scent of cinnamon and peppermint, now with a hint of soap mixed in. His slow smile is the most appealing thing I’ve seen in a very long time.

“Do you like board games?” Ethan crouches next to me and studies the stack of games. “I don’t play too often; mainly when my sister’s family visits. She has two kids, so it’s something we can all do together.”

ETHAN

Thank goodness she’s still here.

I’d been half sure I would walk out to find Norah gone, but she hasn’t fled yet, and my heart gives a little leap of happiness. She’s still just as beautiful, with long chestnut hair and sad eyes like a stormy sea. As I crouch next to her, I catch a scent of oranges and vanilla. Close up, Norah’s skin looks like silk and I itch to stroke her cheek to see if it feels as soft as it looks.

“I used to love playing this as a kid.” Norah points to the Scrabble game. “I would study the dictionary to find the best words before I’d play.” She gives a sad little smile and continues. “Kind of silly, I guess. It doesn’t really mean anything, to win at Scrabble.”

Something about the way Norah looks at the game, the wistful tone in her voice, has me pulling the game from the shelf. “Are you saying that youalwayswin?”

“I used to. It’s been a long time.”

“Are you up to testing your skills?” I give her a grin. “I’ve been told I am a pretty good Scrabble player myself. Granted, it’s coming from my nieces, but…”

Norah’s silent for several long seconds, and I’m sure she’s going to decline. But then she surprises me with an actual smile and reaches out her hand. “Challenge accepted. May the best Scrabble player win.”

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