Page 23 of Chasing Infinity

“Trust me, you don’t want to watch this,” I inform him with a laugh. “I don’t even want to watch the rest of it.”

I exit the stream, turn off the TV for good measure and then move to straighten out the blanket I was huddled under. “So this is my couch. I know, I know, it’s extremely chic. But anyway, it will pull out into a bed if you want. Or you can just sleep on it the way it is too. It’s really comfortable either way.”

Noah’s eyes are on me as I babble on like some deranged tour-guide Barbie.

“That’s the kitchen over there. I’ve got an oven, a refrigerator, and a microwave. Oh, and an air fryer if you’re feeling frisky.”

“Impressive,” he says, and I can hear the amusement in his inflection, but I ignore it.

“Bathroom is over there, and that’s my room. And I think that’s it,” I clap my hands together and look at him wryly. “Any questions?”

“Do you have a tip jar?”

“Ha ha.”

“Thank you, Parks,” he says, no hint of joking in his tone now. “It really means a lot. I didn’t particularly care to sleep in my car another night.”

My curiosity flares, and I tilt my head at him. “Why were you sleeping in your car? Surely you could’ve gotten a hotel or a B&B or something.”

Noah shrugs, almost as if he’s not really sure himself. “I didn’t know how long I was staying. I also didn’t really want to make a scene of my arrival, so my car seemed like the best bet.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you know how long you’re planning on staying now?”

He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “I don’t.”

Looking away and taking a deep breath, I nod my head towards the couch. “Well, feel free to stay as long as you need. You won’t bother me.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. Towels are in the bathroom closet if you want to shower. I have extra toiletries in there too. Help yourself,” I rack my brain to make sure I do not forget anything. When I’m satisfied that I’m not, I look back at my newest house guest. “Goodnight, Noah.”

I turn to leave when I’m halted in my tracks.

“Parks,” he calls and catches my left hand. I spin around and look at him in question, wondering if I did forget to mention something else, but his eyes are on my arm. Discomfort tingles across my skin, but I don’t say a word. I just let him look. It’s not the first time he’s seen the scar, the remnants of the horrible night I lost everything. Though it has been a while since he’s laid eyes on it. He traces his thumb across the mangled, bubbled skin with a gentle reverence that makes my chest hurt. In that moment, I’m reminded of just how well Noah knows me. Or knew me.

“You always wear long sleeves,” he notes. “It’s because of this?”

I pull my hand away from his and wrap my arm around my middle, my right hand coming to hide the bubbly keloid scar covering the expanse of my forearm. “Of course. No one wants to come to a diner to get a good meal and have to come face to face with a horrible scar like this.”

“I think you’re giving people far too little credit.”

He had a point. The fire that took my parents’ café wasn’t a secret to the townspeople. They all probably remembered it as vividly as I did. “Maybe, maybe not. But wearing the sleeves makes me feel better about myself. ”

Noah’s face is unreadable at my confession. Noah was there when I got the burn which lead to my scar. In fact, he’s the reason I walked away from that ordeal withonlya scar. But despite all of that, the heat of his gaze still makes me want to jump ship. It’s been a long time since anyone’s looked at me that way. Even Eli prefers that I keep the scar covered. It makes him sad to see it, and while he would never complain if I didn't keep it hidden, I do so to prevent the pitying glances and the sympathetic apologies for the tragedy.

“Why are you hiding? You survived, you should wear it with pride.”

“Why should I wear it with pride when the very thing that caused it took away all I had?” I shoot back at him, and he takes a step back. He might see the mark as a battle scar, but all I see every day is a reminder of the fire that caused it—the fire that took everything from me in on way or another. I take a deep breath, trying to ease my trembling muscles. “Just leave it. I like my sleeves, and I’ll continue to wear them.”

He raises his hands in surrender, his expression softening. “I just don’t want you to ever feel embarrassed for something like that. Not with me.”

I run my hands over my face, feeling my irritation growing. Today has been too long of a day for a serious conversation like this. “Goodnight, Noah.”

I turn away from him and head towards my bedroom. I can hear him exhale a disappointed sigh before muttering back, “Goodnight, Parks.”

As I settle into bed, I pray for patience because thinking that nothing could go wrong with this setup has got to be one of my craziest ideas yet.

Chapter 7

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