I knew parts of Chai’s past from reading our old messages. She moved a lot with her mother and rarely lived in the safest neighborhoods. The instability left her mind hyperactive at night. From the timestamps of our old messages, I knew that talking to her until the sun came up wasn’t a rare occurrence.
I hadn’t met the Ables—Sam had taken it upon himself to secure our housing this year. But from what little I knew, they weren’t great landlords. I’d heard Sam saying something about Naomi being friends with their daughter. So, perhaps, that’s what made her more forgiving.
“And since we’re on the topic…” For the first time, it felt easy to not overthink in Naomi’s presence because the subject of her comfort made all other issues feel trivial. “The heating’s terrible down here. The kitchen barely gets any warmth and since your room’s right off of it, I’m guessing it’s even worse.”
“That’s what blankets and socks are for.” She smiled, completely unaware of what it did to me and for me. I’d drive in the middle of the night to the hardware store and pick her out a lock for her door if she asked me to. I’d learn how to fix the heating system, even if it took days. Weeks.
“You should remind them,” I said. “I’ll remind them.”
Naomi laughed. “I promise, it’s fine. Why are you… I’m sorry, I’m confused. You seem so worried about…I don’t know.”
You. “I don’t like the idea of someone paying rent and not getting their money’s worth. You work here, too. And you do a good job. At the very least, you should have a working lock on your door and a warm place to sleep. It’s annoying to see someone not get what they deserve.”
Naomi stared at me, blinking with surprise. I’m sure this was the most I’d said to her in one go since we met. And my response was loaded with more opinions than I’ve ever voiced.
“You’re not wrong,” she said, recovering from my words by reaching for a ball of clay. “I should say something. Iwillsay something.”
I nodded and made a conscious effort to soften my features. This conversation wasn’t supposed to be scolding in nature. All I wanted was for her to smile and mean it. Naomi’s mood was infectious, but I knew her happiness wasn’t always natural. She knew how to manufacture that beautiful smile so it shined bright. I hated the thought of her trying to do that around me.
“For now, I’m going to do what I can,” she said with a determined nod of her head. “And that's distracting myself by making something nice.”
“May I help?”
She raised a brow. “Of course. Um, it’s not as hard as it looks. I could teach you some techniques I’ve learned in the last few hours. I’m a big believer in trial and error. No tutorials.”
When I realized she was referring to the earrings she was making, I shook my head. “No, the door stopper. I thought I could finish painting that. It’ll need time to dry and it’s already late. It’d be nice to have it ready for you by tomorrow.”
“Of course, sounds good. A more responsible approach.” She laughed. “Here I was prioritizing earrings.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your priorities.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with you making earrings, too. If you want,” she teased.
“I know.” I nodded. “My hands just don’t seem built for small details, you know?”
“Oh.” Naomi leaned back against the couch and studied my fingers. “I think they’re fine. They seem steady enough. Half the battle’s believing you can do it.”
Something about how she continued to study my hands triggered a warmth in my belly. My jaw tightened when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before looking away. If I was Lincoln or Sam, I’d figure out a way to get her to tell me what was on her mind. Hell, even Henrik’s polite personality could probably pull something out of her. Unfortunately, I couldn’t figure out how to flirt without cringing.
“They’ve become steadier from knitting,” I said and could practically hear my friends telling me to shut up. Sure, knitting wasn’t a common pastime for college-age guys. But it was surprisingly fun. My therapist suggested I pick up something new to help with my recovery. There’d been a knitting circle at the hospital and the women there were kind and patient. They even gifted me a set of needles when I left.
Naomi’s head popped up, studying me as if she didn’t catch what I said. “Knitting?”
“I do it to relax. Kind of like you do this, I suppose.”
Her smile was back, cheeks round with sheer pleasure. I’d done that. Just by saying something honest. Mundane.A feeling of pride warmed my chest.
“That beanie you wear? Did you make that?”
I nodded. “My first project. Didn’t turn out like I wanted—”
“It’s perfect!” She seemed determined not to hear an objection. “Like adorable. The color looks great on you.”
“Thanks.” I raised a brow when she looked away for a second. The lighting was so bad in here, but I think I saw a shadow of shyness cross her face.
“Does it help?” she asked.
I tilted my head to the side, wanting her to elaborate.
