“Drip-dry? Drip-dry?! What the hell is wrong with you, Noah Stevens? And you arenotkilling the spider. You’re going to trap it and release it back outside where it belongs.”
I’m going to what?
I shake my head at her, even though she can’t see me.
I grip the edge of the doorframe. “Just hurry up, will you? We have work to do.”
“You hurry up! Get me some damn toilet paper!”
“But that’s all the way upstairs.”
“You’re right. Upstairsisa long way to walk. I’ll just use this old shirt lying on the floor, which I certainly have questions about, because why are you showering down here?”
She’s right. I don’t usually shower down here. I have a nice, newly renovated bathroom upstairs, which is the only spot in the house I’ve done something with. But I was so gross last night after working on the barn, and I felt like I was covered in dust and spiderwebs. I stripped as soon as I walked in the door and showered downstairs.
Now I regret it. She’s about to use my favorite shirt as toilet paper.
“Wait, wait! I’ll go grab some. Just ... don’t use my shirt, okay?”
“Then hurry! Before I become this spider’s lunch!”
I bolt up the stairs to my bathroom, grab a fresh pack of toilet paper, and sprint back downstairs.
“Open the door, Odie,” I call to her.
She doesn’t respond right away, and for just a second the illogical part of me thinks that the spider may have actually eaten her.
Then she talks.
“It’s unlocked,” she says, sounding much less annoyed than earlier. “Just ... just close your eyes and set it on the counter. I’ll grab it.”
Even though I want to roll them, I close my eyes instead. Why would I want to check her out right now? This is so not the situation for that.
Yeah, and neither was you nearly popping a boner earlier because you couldn’t stop thinking about her damn underwear, yet that’s precisely what happened.
I shove away my thoughts and push open the door.
“Stop peeking!”
I growl. “I’m not fucking peeking, Odie. Can’t you see me bumbling around like a fool? I can’t even find the counter.”
“This is your house. How do you not know where the counter is?”
“I don’t normally navigate it with my eyes closed.”
“Whatever. Just hurry already. You should see the size of this damned spider, eyeing me like I’m a piece of fried chicken or something.”
“Which is it—do you want me to keep my eyes closed or look at the spider?”
“Closed!”
My lips twitch as I reach into the room as I’m told. But the only thing I find is the door. I push it open farther and take a small step into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?!” Odette yells, and I realize then that mysmall stepis rather large, especially given how tiny this bathroom is, because she’s close.
Tooclose.
“I don’t know!” I yell back, toss the packet of toilet paper I don’t know where, and spin on my heel to get the hell out of the room as fast as the small room will allow. This is exactly why I prefer my bathroom upstairs. It’s wide, where this one is just long and narrow.
