The coiling heat in my belly turned to loathing. Not for him, god, I wish. For my own reactions. For the betrayal of my stupid body parts. Reactions that I may not see on his face, but the reflection of the flashlight did, in fact, illuminate my own features. And all the treacherous and confusing thoughts that must have played out like a picture book.
I slipped my hands from John’s shoulders and pushed him away. My breath came out ragged. “We better find fuel before I lose a toe.” I bent to retrieve the flashlight, ignoring my wobbly legs, when I noticed the reflection of rose gold metal.
“Nora—” John said from behind me.
“Son of a bitch,” I swore at the same time, pulling my laptop from behind a shelf laden with tool stuff.
“How the hell did that get there?” he said, shaking his head.
I looked from my laptop to him, shining my flashlight right into his face. “You tell me.”
He grimaced but didn’t turn away. “What do you mean?”
I took a step back, wishing I had Otis’s pepper spray. “I see you in the hallway, my laptop disappears, you volunteer to find it, the generator gives out, and oh… what a coincidence, there itis. Now Nora is all alone, vulnerable, and… and…” I trailed off, trying to find my point.
“Is that what you think? That I lured you out here to do what?”
My mind flashed with a hundred possibilities, ninety-nine of them involving naked bodies, and the vast majority not sounding too bad.
NORA.
I pinched myself. “Ouch,” I cried.
“Are you hurt?” He came closer, hands in the air.
I lifted the light back into his face as if it was a laser sword.
“Nora, if I wanted to murder you, I would have done so by now.”
For some reason,thatpossibility hadn’t come up in my thought process. “Why doesn’t that sound convincing?”
John sighed. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, plucking the light from my hands.
Chapter Fifteen
I don’t cuddle with strangers.
Midnight pancakes are superior to normal pancakes.
Rom-coms aren’t just for women, duh.
I basically flew into the living room. Pried the laptop open with stiff fingers and let out a relieved whoop when my sketch of Captain Caruso looked back at me. It was my laptop, yes, but it was on its last 5%.
I quickly attached the file to the email, double-checked that everyone on the board was cc’d, and hit send. Just then, the screen went black.
“No.”
John stepped behind me. “What?”
I repeatedly pressed the power button, but nothing. I closed the laptop and tried hard not to throw it against the wall. “The battery is dead.”
“Did it go through?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” I put my face into my hands. “I must have been a terrible person in my last life.”
John stood. “Let me call Charlene.”
I didn’t want his pity or his help. But I bit my tongue. I needed to be grateful.
