Page 45 of Don't Think

“Man, fuck Don.” He groans.

A crunching sound echoes from the other side of the room, and when I look up, Allie is tucking her hair behind her ears, trying to maneuver around everything.

Then I realize we’re missing two people.

“Wait, where are Gareth and Nora?” I ask, rising from the floor.

She shrugs. “Nora probably went to bed, and Gareth must have taken the guest room.”

“Do you want to wake up Nora while I wake the beast?” I ask, hiking my thumb over my shoulder to the only closed door.

“Yes, please,” she says with a laugh.

I carefully weave my way to the door and don’t even bother knocking.

“Rise and shine—”

My feet stop moving while my eyes land on the queen-size bed, where not just one body lies—buttwo.

My eyes scan across the room, finding every article of their clothing thrown around it.

“Hey, Allie?” I say loudly. When she looks my way, I shake my head and add, “No need to go upstairs.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, already making her way over to me.

“I mean she’s—”

“Nora!” Allie gasps the second she pops her head into the bedroom.

Gareth and Nora sit straight up in the bed with nothing but a sheet draped over their bodies. Gareth looks completely unfazed, but Nora looks like she’s about to start crying.

“I… I…” she stammers, her eyes darting between Allie and Gareth while he stretches out his legs.

His face scrunches in mock offense. “Don’t look at me like that. I was following your lead,” he says with a husky laugh.

Nora’s gaze flicks to Allie, her face as red as a tomato. “Allie, I can explain—”

Allie tilts her head, her expression unreadable.

“Oh, honey,” she breathes out, her voice light. I can’t tell if she’s upset or holding in a laugh.

I gently take her elbow, urging her out of the room. “Come on, love. We don’t need to see that.”

By the time we make it upstairs and into the kitchen, I still can’t tell if she’s upset. That is until she starts ripping open cabinets and pulling out mixing bowls, clanging them on the counter loudly.

Okay, she’s clearly upset.

My heart is pounding in my ears, trying to figure out what exactly to do. I don’t know if she’s the type of person who needs to work them out herself, or be talked down.

She walks past me, popping open the fridge to pull out eggs and bacon while I lean against the door frame.

“Would you like some help?” I ask, raising an eyebrow when she looks at me.

Her eyes widen like she’s just as shocked as I am that I even asked.

She doesn’t even realize how crazy it’s driving me to watch her stand there in the warm light, hair slightly falling from her bun.

“That’d actually be great,” she says shyly and quickly looks away.