8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Eric

This is so damn awkward. I’ve been walking around without a shirt on all day because I can’t get it on. There’s no way I’m going into work tomorrow. Unless I ask Jeremy or Adam to help me get my pants back up and in place after I go to the bathroom, which I’m not doing, there’s no way. I’ll just have to stay home in my sweatpants.

I don’t know where Mia is. She’s been missing ever since she helped me get undressed last night.

Although she’s been helpful with all of this, I still don’t trust her.

I hear a sudden noise echo in the kitchen. Instead of ignoring it and focusing on my rest like I should, I get up from the chair in my room and walk downstairs to check it out.

I walk into the kitchen, my eyes immediately drawn to the sight before me. Mia is rummaging through a lower cabinet, her back to me as she is bent over, her curves accentuated by her fitted denim shorts. Her legs stretch gracefully, the smooth lines and tanned skin drawing my gaze, making it hard to look away. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I find myself holding my breath, caught with desire.

“Can I help you find anything?” I ask and she lets out a shriek.

She stands up and the first thing I notice is her hair up in a loose bun, messy and wild on her head, but effortlessly beautiful. Her cheeks are stained a pink hue.

“Oh my god. You scared me,” she says with a hand over her heart.

I walk into the kitchen, slightly amused. “I can see that. Just trying to offer help where I can.”

She smiles shyly. “I was just looking for a strainer.”

“Ah. I can’t say I’ve used it, but it’s in that cabinet up there. I think.”

I try to walk over to retrieve it for her, but she beats me to it. “No need to reach for it. You need to rest.”

That’s what I’ve been trying to do all day, but it’s been driving me mad. I’m used to being busy with work. I don’t like having down time. It allows me to think, and that hasn’t been something I’ve liked to do in the last couple of years.

“Are you hungry? I’m making dinner.”

Do I want to sit around and have forced conversation with a woman I find far too attractive? Absolutely not. “I could eat,” my mouth replies despite my brain telling me no.

“Good. I’m making plenty.”

I take a seat at the island and watch her work effortlessly in my kitchen like she’s lived here longer than I have. Everything is already smelling amazing.

“What are you making?” I ask with genuine curiosity.

She doesn’t turn around, just continues to dice an onion on the island right in front of me. “A chicken pot pie with an arugula and peach salad—cobbler for dessert.”

My entire mouth fills with saliva. “Is it all homemade?”

She chuckles as she throws the onions into the skillet with peas and carrots. “Where I come from, you don’t eat anything unless it’s homemade.”

“Interesting choices. A bit different from your Italian meal the other night.”

“Layla made this amazing peach cocktail the night I got here with peaches from Georgia. I was inspired to learn some southern cooking and take advantage of the peaches while I’m down here.”

A thought occurs to me. “I didn’t see you leave at all today. When did you get groceries?”

A strange look appears on her face. “I didn’t leave the house. I had the groceries delivered.”

Interesting. I wonder why she hasn’t wanted to go anywhere. Maybe she’s a homebody. I remember I still don’t know why she is staying with me and it’s odd it hasn’t come up yet.

Once everything is thrown into the oven, she turns to me. “That needs to bake for an hour. I already have the salad in the fridge and the cobbler ready to bake later. I was going to go read in my room for a bit. Can I help you with anything first?”

“Um, now that you mention it, I haven’t been able to change all day.”

“Oh, is that why you haven’t been wearing a shirt all day?”

How? I don’t remember seeing her at all today. Has she been hiding?

“Yeah, I mean, it’s just hard to move my arm right now. And…you’ve noticed me not wearing a shirt?”

I don’t know why I said that. I want to take it back until I notice that damn blush of hers spreading down her chest. Fuck me, why do I find that so sexy? I want to explore how far down it goes. Does it reach her nipples? I’ve pictured taking those into my mouth ever since I saw them the other night.

“I mean, sorry. Yes, that’s why I haven’t put a shirt on. Any chance you could help me?” I change course, and wonder why I just asked her if she’s been checking me out. I don’t want her to check me out.

We walk into my bedroom to grab a clean shirt and I hand it to her. She throws it on the bed.

“First, let’s take this sling off,” she tells me.

I’ve been reluctant today—it hurts to use my arm muscle right now. But I know it needs to be done. She lifts the strap of my sling over my head. The weight that was taken off immediately forces my arm down to my side. I wince at the pain and she mirrors my reaction.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

I nod my head as I allow the throbbing to settle. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, you just stand there. I’m going to do this so you don’t have to move your arm at all.”

She puts my hand hanging at my side through the sleeve and slowly slides the shirt up my arm. I watch her forehead scrunch in concentration as she’s trying not to hurt me. Once my head and other arm are in, she grabs the bottom of my shirt and slowly pulls it down my body. Her fingers glide against my chest down to my abs, leaving my skin scorching from the heat of the moment.

Both of our breathing appears labored as she looks up and our eyes meet. She shakes her head and steps away from me.

Shit, what the hell was that? If she hadn’t pulled away, I don’t know what I would have done. The way I react to her presence, to her touch, is terrifying. I need a drink to take the edge off.

“Okay, let’s get this back on,” she says, grabbing the sling.

She is gentle but works quickly to help me get back in, with only slightly throbbing pain this time around. Her nearness is both exciting and disturbing. Luckily, the second I’m in the sling, she backs away. “Alright, I’m going to go read. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

With the much-needed space, I lie on my bed and close my eyes, hoping to get some rest before dinner.

“Eric,” a soft voice echoes in my room, making me feel calm and at peace. When I open my eyes, Mia is standing over me.

I look up at her, feeling slightly disoriented. “What time is it?”

“It’s just after six. Dinner is ready if you’d like to eat. If you want to rest more, I can put the leftovers in the fridge for you.”

She’s twiddling her fingers together in front of her like she’s nervous. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted your nap. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No,” I groan as I rub my eyes. “I shouldn’t be sleeping all day. I won’t get good sleep tonight if I do. Plus, I’m starving. Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, ok. Well, I’ll go set the table.”

I nod my head and wait until she walks out. I probably should trade out my sweatpants for a pair of jeans for dinner. Might be the least I can do to not show up like a slob after all the work she put into it. Call it my southern manners, but it just seems rude. Not sure when the last time was that I worried about my rudeness.

It’s a struggle to get the damn jeans on and zipped. I quickly remember why I was walking around in sweatpants. Whatever, I’ll just have to leave them unbuttoned. My shirt will cover it.

When I walk into the kitchen, everything smells incredible. Mia is filling up two wine glasses as I meet her at the table. It feels kind of weird and—romantic. But she does seem to be knowledgeable about wine based on the dinner she prepared the other night. I’m getting in my head. This isn’t some kind of date. We live together right now. Having wine with dinner is perfectly normal.

“Thanks for letting me eat your food. It smells really good.”

We both take our seats. I feel like I should be helpful in some way around here, so I grab the pie cutter.

“Can I cut you a piece?” I offer.

She smiles. “Sure. Thank you.”

With my one good hand, I start to cut into the pie. The dish moves an inch, but without another hand, I can’t hold it down. I try again, but it keeps sliding around the table. “Dammit,” I mutter to myself. I try again but to no avail.

Mia sucks in her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Um, how about I do it?”

I drop the cutter. “I’m sorry. I’m fucking useless right now.”

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, you’re allowing me to stay here, it’s the least I can do.”

She stands up and cuts each of us a slice, then scoops the salad.

“Thank you,” I manage to grind out though still irked by my inability to do the simplest of tasks.

“So, what did your family say when you told them about the accident?” she asks after she takes a bite.

I do the same and have to stop myself from moaning. This woman can cook. The pie crust is so crispy and yet the chicken and vegetables in the cream sauce are the perfect offset to the crust.

“I haven’t told them yet actually.”

She stops her spoon midway to her mouth. “You didn’t tell them yet?”

It kind of takes me by surprise—the guilt her reaction garners from me. I’m sure I should’ve told them first thing in the morning, probably even last night.

“I know. I’m a horrible son and brother,” I say then take a bite of my pie. It’s good enough to make me feel slightly less of a prick. I think I’ll be eating another slice, see if it can make me like myself. Maybe it’s magic pie.

“I never said that you were a horrible son or brother. I’m just surprised. You guys all seem close.”

It’s an interesting observation, and, to some extent, it’s true. We are close. But sometimes being too close to your family isn’t always a good thing. It’s times like these, when you are in a rut or just trying to figure yourself out that makes it hard when there don’t seem to be any boundaries.

“We’re close. To be honest, I’m just tired. Once I tell them, there’s going to be a crowded house of worried faces all not only wondering how I’m doing physically, but they will use it as an emotional intervention.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I understand that.”

I look at her, my head leaning to one side. “You do?”

“Yeah, I’m close with my family too. Three older brothers and my parents. All three brothers are married. Everyone seems to treat me like I’m fragile or damaged.”

“Hmm.”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “What does hmm mean?”

I can’t help but laugh at how defensive she became by a simple noise. “Nothing. I was just thinking. Why is it that someone being single means they are subject to a massive amount of scrutiny from their family members?”

She rolls her eyes. “If you ever figure it out, let me know.”

A smirk stretches across my face. I’m actually enjoying our dinner together. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. And it’s a relief that she isn’t judging me for taking some time before I tell my family. I’ll call them and tell them after we eat, but it’s still nice that she gets it.

Hours later, I’m lying in bed trying to sleep but it doesn’t come. My arm hurts like a motherfucker and my family finally stopped messaging an hour ago once I threatened to block all of them.

I didn’t even ask Mia to help me with anything, I just stayed in my shirt and threw on a new pair of sweatpants. Maybe a late-night snack will help. Mia and I both ate too much of the pot pie to have room for the cobbler.

Would it be rude to have a piece before her?

Before I can make it to the fridge, I notice the pool lights on and a figure swimming in the water. I walk outside, surprised that the October chill isn’t too bad tonight. Instead of going back inside like I should, letting her enjoy her swim alone, I feel compelled to sit on one of the lounge chairs and lean back.

It’s peaceful out here. She continues to swim laps while I watch. When she stops to take a breath, I figure it’s a good time to announce my presence.

“You always swim by yourself in the middle of the night?”

The scream that escapes her is piercing, filled with pure, raw emotion. Once she sees my face, her body settles and her hand lands on her heart. “Eric! Oh my gosh. You keep scaring me.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have snuck up like that.”

Although, I don’t feel like I snuck up. I’m not sure what I should’ve done, but she’s been very jumpy around me. A simple noise can throw her into a panic and now this. She also never leaves the house. It seems strange.

“No, no it’s fine. I’m sorry, I’m just a little jumpy lately,” she says, seeming embarrassed. “I was just finishing up here. I wanted to get in a little exercise, work off some of those dinner calories.”

“There’s a gym in the basement. I’m sorry I never gave you an official tour. I’ll give you one tomorrow.”

“Sounds great. Thanks.”

She begins to climb the stairs out of the pool. With each step, more of her body emerges. She’s wearing a black two piece and once her ass is above water, my dick instantly takes notice. She turns around and walks towards me, giving me the view of her front.

It’s like someone climbed inside my brain and found what I think the perfect body is and made her just for me. That’s a fucked-up thought, but it’s how I feel as I watch her.

The water droplets glide down her slender stomach making their way down to the edge of her bikini bottoms. I’m suddenly thirsty and want to lick the water off her. Her wet hair sticks to her body, adding to her effortless allure.

The world around me fades away, leaving Mia in sharp, stunning focus. She grabs her towel, which I now notice is sitting on the chair next to me, and wraps it around her body.

“Can I join you?”

“Of course,” I reply.

She takes a seat on the chair next to me and we both lay back in silence for a minute.

“It’s a beautiful backyard. I love the trees here,” she says into the night.

“Thank you. I love the trees too. It’s what has always sold me on this house. Plus, the privacy it creates is nice.” I look over at her, noticing she doesn’t have a drop of makeup on. Her skin is perfect. “What made you want to get in your workout this late at night?”

Her lips press together tightly—a troubled look on her face. “I just felt like my body had a ton of stored energy when I laid down. I knew I needed to get rid of some if I was ever going to sleep. I think I’m just used to working a ton of hours. It’s been slow here.”

“You lost your job?” I ask, suddenly remembering why it was I didn’t trust her in the first place.

“What? No. I didn’t lose my job.”

“You didn’t? Don’t you need to head back soon or risk actually losing that job?” I ask, now more confused.

“No, my job is waiting for me.”

She’s not very forthcoming with information. “What do you do for a living, Mia?”

“I own a wine distribution company with my brothers. I’m the head of marketing and deal with all of our branding.”

That, I wasn’t expecting. Suddenly, her expensive car pops into my mind. “How long has your company been around?”

Maybe the car is an expense on the company, something to help with lowering taxes. A lot of startups do that to try and lower their taxes at the end of the year.

“About eight years. We do about a billion in revenue a year now.”

If I was drinking something, I would’ve choked on it. That’s no startup. That’s a well-established, successful company. And she owns it. Her bank account must put mine to shame. I don’t know what to do with that information.

Here I thought she was using me—interested in my money.

“Well, I think that swim actually did me in. I’m gonna go shower and try to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eric. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

She gets up and walks away, but I’m too speechless to offer a goodnight.

Okay, so she isn’t using me for my money, but that doesn’t change anything. I still can’t trust my attraction to her. I have to stay strong and remember why touching her would be a very bad idea.