Page 41 of Just a Taste
I nod.
‘Great,’ she says quickly. Too quickly. Her cheeks are still flushed and every few seconds she sneaks a not-so-subtle look at me before quickly glancing away. ‘Just great.’
‘Great,’ I echo, clearing my throat even though there’s nothing lodged in there.
We lapse into another silence. Noelle seems fixated on aspot on the wall, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the duvet. Then she sighs, lolls her head towards me, and grins.
‘I think I’ve had one-night stands less awkward than this.’
The bluntness of her statement shocks a dry laugh out of me. ‘Yeah?’
‘Mhm.’ Her grin widens as she reaches across the bed to poke at my side. ‘Like you said last night, we’re both adults. And this was…’ She waves her hand around, fumbling for the right words to use. ‘This was a necessity. Life or death, you know?’
I quirk a brow. ‘Life or death?’
‘Most definitely,’ she laughs. ‘I’m telling you, if I’d stayed in that room last night, you would’ve had to carve me out of a block of ice this morning.’ She shifts slightly until she’s facing me properly, and there’s not much room between us anymore. Not that there was much in first place. ‘So, let’s agree to keep things moving, all right?’
‘Keep things moving?’ I don’t think I’ve ever heard that phrase before.
Noelle laughs. ‘Don’t let it get weird. So we cuddled a little bit? Big deal.’
I don’t think I’ve used the worldcuddledsince I was a child, but that’s not the point here. The point is that wedidcuddle and I, against all odds, actually enjoyed it. Very much so.
But it’s clear that she didn’t. That look of contentmenton her face as she nuzzled against my chest was all in my mind. She was just trying to keep warm. Nothing more, nothing less.
‘Right,’ I force out. ‘No big deal.’
She lets out a happy sigh and leans back against the headboard, her eyes fluttering shut. ‘Good. Glad to see we’re on the same page.’
‘Definitely on the same page,’ I say, trying to match her nonchalance. Noelle seems to have moved on from our moment of intimacy, and I know that I should do the same. Though that seems impossible right now because my mind is playing images of Noelle resting against my chest on a loop right now, and I’m enjoying it more than I should.
As we both lie here in silence, the room gradually grows colder. Or maybe it’s always been this cold, but the adrenaline rush from this morning has only just worn off. Either way, the heater must be acting up again and Noelle shivers slightly, pulling the duvet tighter around herself.
‘I’ll see if I can fix the heater,’ I blurt out suddenly, eager for an excuse to leave the room. ‘Properly this time, so we don’t have to…’ I trail off and gesture towards the empty space between us.
Noelle nods, a grateful smile playing on her lips. ‘No pressure.’
No pressure, indeed.
‘There are—’ I clear my throat and nod to my drawers.‘You can borrow a pair of socks, by the way. Top-left drawer.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Thank you.’
I nod and quickly get up from the bed, feeling her eyes on me as I make my way to the door. I hit an icy wall of cold air as soon as I step out into the hall and a sliver of panic shoots through me. It’s definitely getting colder in here.
This doesn’t bode well for Noelle’s chances of getting out of here in time for Christmas. And we may freeze to death while we’re stuck here. Not ideal.
I pad downstairs and yank open the cupboard that hosts the beast of metal and wires that is my heating system. It hums and whirs as I pull open the door and I bend down, pop open the panel and dive in. But no matter which wire I poke or which valve I twist, the thing refuses to spit out even a puff of warmth. The only response I get is the wind still howling outside, and the occasionalthud– a new shelf of snow sliding off the roof and slamming to the ground. I’m half tempted to give the thing a kick, just to assert some dominance – I’ve never met a piece of technology I haven’t been able to wrap my head around – but then I imagine Noelle’s raised eyebrows and the hint of a smirk on those full lips.
‘Tech genius bested by inanimate object,’ I can almost hear her say, humour glinting in those expressive brown eyes. ‘Social media is going to have a field day.’ And if that doesn’t sting alittle, poking at my pride like a fork testing the rawness of a cake.
I spend the next twenty minutes scowling at my phone as I scroll through an online manual for my heater. It’s a fruitless endeavour, to say the least. I try every troubleshooting tip it offers, but the heater remains as uncooperative as ever. Maybe this is my sign that we need to get into making heaters at HoxTech, because I most definitely won’t be buying from this brand again.
Defeated, I stand, brushing my hands on my pyjama trousers, and glance out the window. Icy droplets are battering the glass, the storm outside growing more furious by the minute. Just how long is this thing supposed to last?
For a brief moment, I entertain the idea of calling someone to ask for a second opinion. Roland, perhaps? Maybe Luca? I reject that idea as soon as it jumps into my mind. While Roland is contractually obliged not to spend the next few weeks mocking me for my technical inaptitude when it comes to the heating system, Luca has no such obligation.
Reaching out to Luca for help is officially out.
