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Special Delivery by Reagan Shaw (12)

Erika

The water ran over my skin, warming it, and I sluiced soap off my body. Bath time had always been thinking time for me, unfortunately, and given that my entire world revolved around the hospital and where I lived, all I had to think about was him.

Noah had given me a little more this morning. More of him, more humor, and a different side to his personality. The insults that our entire relationship, or acquaintanceship, had been comprised of were entirely missing.

“Don’t let your mind get away from itself. Don’t do this,” I whispered and washed my face.

I was in the main bathroom, rather than the ensuite in the guest room, since I had a hankering for a cleansing bath rather than a quick shower. Needed to wash the naughty thoughts down the drain and focus on work today.

On what I wanted out of life. It wasn’t to be a disappointment again, to myself or anyone else.

“Just stop.” I swished around in the bath, shaking my head at myself. I had to get a grip on this, on everything that’d happened in the past and how I felt about it now.

The truth was, the only things I’d ever wanted in life had been out of reach. Two of them. All I had left was my career, my passion for bringing children into the world. That was it.

I lifted the plug out of the bath and watched the water swirl down the drain in a whirlpool. Muffled noises came from the living room—Noah waiting for me, god—and I got out and onto the bath mat, wrapped one of his fluffy white towels around my body.

It was past time to put last night behind me, get dressed, and attack the day. That was what I did best.

I opened the bathroom door and peeked down the hall, just in case Noah decided to make an appearance and scare the bejesus out of me, as he was accustomed to do. Coast was clear.

Quickly, I made my way down the hall and to the guest bedroom. A figure stepped through the doorway on my right, which led into Noah’s open-plan living room, and bumped into me.

“Hey!” I managed. “Noah, what are you—?”

The man looked down at me, features stern and handsome, but older, and most definitely not Noah. Oh god, it was Mr. Cox! Noah’s dad. I let out a shrill squeak and stumbled back.

“Erika?” He looked down his nose at me. “Erika Gray?”

“Dear? What’s going on? I heard a scream.” Mrs. Cox shuttled out of the living room and clamped a hand down on her husband’s arm. She spotted me, right away. “Oh. Noah has compa—wait, Erika? Erika Gray?”

“Hi, Mrs. Cox,” I croaked. Once again, thirty-four going on sixteen. It was as if I’d been caught red-handed with my fingers wrapped around the cookie from the jar on the high shelf. “How are you?” I relaxed my stance but crossed my arms over my toweled chest. “It’s been years.” You can do this. Totally fine. Just your parents’ best friends. Nothing to worry about. They’ll understand.

But both Mr. and Mrs. Cox stared at me as if I was a two-headed hound rather than an old family friend.

“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Cox asked, her eyes sharp now, her nose hawkish. She’d always reminded me of a bird of prey, and I’d found it pretty darn intimidating. Thankfully, I’d managed to avoid her as she would be preoccupied with chatting to my mother, rather than me.

“I—”

“What’s going on?” Noah asked in that warm rumble and entered the hall. It was officially crowded. He laid eyes on me and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “I see. Mom, Dad, you remember Erika Gray, right?”

Mrs. Cox pursed her lips. Mr. Cox gave me a leery once-over.

“Noah, darling, what’s she doing here?” Mrs. Cox asked, switching out the light touch on her husband’s arm for one on Noah’s. “Are you two…?”

“No!” I burst out. Calm down, oh my god. You have got to chill. “No, we’re not together, if that’s what you’re asking. I just had an issue with my apartment. It flooded, so I’m out of a home, and Noah was kind enough to invite me to stay here.” I gripped the towel so tight it could possibly rip from the strain.

Noah’s parents stared at me, blankly.

“Uh, Erika? You should get dressed. There’s coffee in the living room when you’re done.” Noah’s smile had broken through fully now, and I despised him for it. Of course, he’d find it amusing that I’d made a total ass of myself, yet again.

“Right,” I said. “Thanks.” I rushed off and into the guest room, then snapped the door shut behind me, cursing my bad luck under my breath. Of course, Noah’s parents would randomly show up now, while I was half-naked. Of course. That was just my luck.

I dried and dressed quick as a flash, swept on some mascara, and left it at that, then headed out of the bedroom door and down the hall, my stomach burbling. Why was I nervous? I’d pooped in the Cox’s toilet before. I’d peed in their pool. I’d run around in their backyard like a headless chicken while my parents chatted and barbecued with them.

This didn’t make sense. I entered the living room and smoothed my striped blouse.

Mr. and Mrs. Cox looked up from the sofa.

“Hi,” I said, and forced a sweet smile. “Sorry about that. I hardly expected anyone to be in the hall.”

Mr. Cox returned the grin, but Mrs. Cox looked as if she’d just bitten into a sour apple. “Well, dear, I wish we’d known to expect you. We would have called ahead in that case.”

“Oh.” I poured myself a mug of coffee and perched in one of the single armchairs, strategically separating myself from Noah. He sat on the sofa opposite his mother and father, a mug in one hand, and the other holding his cell. He wasn’t the least bit invested in their presence.

“Noah,” Mrs. Cox said, “Noah, can you look up from your phone for five seconds? We came all the way from Syracuse to see you.”

He raised his eyes and looked at her for a moment. “I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, “and that both Erika and I have work in about a half an hour. We’ll be leaving in five minutes.”

“But surely, you can—” Mrs. Cox started, but it was her husband’s turn to placate her.

“We didn’t mean to bother you, Noah,” the old man said and flashed a white-toothed smile. He was the older, slightly less attractive version of his son. I’d never seen his charm. “We’re going to be in the city for two more days. Perhaps, we can catch up with you both for dinner tonight? Take you out somewhere?”

“Out,” Noah said, and finally slipped his phone back into his pocket. He downed the last of his coffee and slapped the mug down on the table. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I’ve got an early appointment tomorrow morning.”

Mr. and Mrs. Cox exchanged a glance. “What about eating here? We’ll bring takeout,” Mrs. Cox said. “Pizza? I know how much you love pizza, dear.”

She was so desperate to see Noah, it was kind of sad. Why did he seem so off? What was the story there? I’d always figured Noah and his parents didn’t see eye to eye, given the screaming matches and the fact that I’d overheard him telling Marc that they were a pain in the ass. I’d never realized it had gotten this bad.

“That sounds lovely,” I said, and Noah shot me a hard look. “I love pizza too.”

Mrs. Cox sniffed. “Good, then it’s settled. Pizza for dinner. What time will you be back from the hospital, Noah?”

“Not sure,” he replied. “I’ll have to let you know.”

“Likely just after eight,” I put in, and once again, he glared at me like I’d just mortally wounded him. I didn’t bother mouthing a “sorry,” as it was probably too late for that.

“Fantastic,” Mr. Cox said, and rose from his seat, the coffee mug in front of him untouched. “That’s settled. We’ll get out of your hair, so you can get to work. Come on, dear.” He offered his wife an arm, and she rose too, dainty and graceful in the ascent.

“See you later,” she said, and wriggled her fingers. They strode out of the living room, then down the hall. The elevator that served as Noah’s front door pinged, and a few seconds passed. Finally, silence returned.

I checked my wristwatch. “We don’t have to be at work for another hour,” I said.

“What’s your point?” Noah asked.

“My point is pretty clear, Noah. Why did you want them out of here so bad? One second you were laughing at my faux pas, the next sitting there staring at your phone like a sullen teenager.”

“I don’t have time for bullshit,” he said, and stood. “And my parents are bullshit creators and stirrers-in-chief. The minute my mother saw you she started hinting that things weren’t what they seemed. That I was secretly fucking you on the side.”

She hadn’t been far from the truth. “And so?”

“And so, fuck her nosiness. She’s tried repeatedly to pry in my personal life, and I’ve had to put her in her place consistently. I’m over it.” Noah straightened his shirt, then lifted his doctor’s coat from the back of the robin’s-egg-blue sofa. He slipped it on and shook out the sleeves. “I have more important things to worry about than my mother’s gossip. Or my father’s insistence that I follow in my brother’s footsteps.”

“Caleb?” Last I’d heard, Noah’s older brother was the CFO of the Cox family business—a tech-development company in Silicon Valley.

“Correct,” Noah said. “I’m the ultimate failure. The youngest who did something with his life that he wanted to do.” The bitterness from him shocked me. Noah wasn’t exactly a happy-go-lucky dude, but he was normally on top of everything and everyone. Cocky, owning everything, never angry. “Fuck it, let’s get out of here. We’ll take a long fucking walk to the hospital. Sound good?”

I rose from the armchair and finished the last of my coffee. “Yeah, I can do that.”

The sexual tension between us has dissipated, thanks to his parents’ appearance, but I didn’t doubt it would return and with a force. He looked fucking amazing in his cotton button-down and that doctor’s coat. I hurried through to my room and brought my own coat out, slung it over my arm, and retrieved my handbag.

Finally, I walked out into the hall, tying my hair up.

Noah stood by the elevator doors waiting. He stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched.

“You all right?” I asked.

“Fine,” he replied, and glanced at me sideways. “You wanna button up your shirt? You’re killin’ me here.”

I looked down and bit my lip—I’d missed my top button. There was barely a hint of cleavage showing through, but apparently that was enough to elicit a response from him. I buttoned it hurriedly, my breath catching.

The doors opened, and we stepped inside, silent as before. The need between us thickened into a transparent smog. If it’d been tangible, I would’ve choked on it.

I took a step to the side and separated myself from him. That was the best I could do, for now. There was nowhere to hide from how I felt or what I wanted from him. What I needed.

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