Page 85 of You Fall First

I clutch the towel more tightly around my body, although it’s already pretty well tucked. Luckily, I used one of those extra-large bath sheets, so I’m even more covered than I would be in a bathing suit.

Still, Noah shouts, “Whoa! NO!” Then he throws both hands up to cover his eyes, smacking himself in the forehead with his phone.

“Ouch!” he grunts, bending over.

“Are you all right?” I take a small step toward him.

“Stop!” He spins around, facing the door, like he needs a chemical eye wash to rid himself of the sight of me.

Well.

If I’d had any notions that Noah’s texts earlier today might’ve been the least bit flirty, his reaction to finding me half naked and fresh from the shower just killed them. I’m guessing he’d give up his PT career right about now to become a magician who could conjure up a blockade between us.

Any kind of blockade. A brick wall. A theater curtain. Even a bath sheet. As long as it wasn’t wrapped around me.

“What’s going on?” a woman calls out.

From Noah’s phone.

O.M.G.

If I weren’t determined to maintain my death grip on this towel, I would’ve dropped it. Or fainted. Or both.

“You’re on the phone?” I shriek.

“FaceTime,” he grits out, his back still to me. “With my sister. We wanted to see if Dutton’s awake.”

“Hey, Noah?” Paige pipes up. “I’ve gotta tell you, you’re not being very quiet.”

“Hi, Paige.” With one free hand, I wave toward the phone, even though I’m fairly certain she can’t see me. In fact, I hope she can’t.

“Hey, Jo. Where’s Dutton?”

“In his room,” I say with a weak laugh. “He fell asleep a while ago watching Toy Story 2.”

Noah shoots a glance down the hall, makes quick eye contact, then snaps his gaze back to the door.

Great.

Now, all he’s going to see when he looks at me is a girl who was too dumb to check the hallway before stepping out of the bathroom in a towel. Or bring a change of clothes with her to the bathroom in the first place.

All true, unfortunately.

But once I realized I’d forgotten a clean outfit, there was no way I was putting back on the sweaty, syrupy stuff I had on earlier. And no underwear ever goes back onto this body without being washed.

Anyway, Noah told me he had a few things to wrap up at work. I assumed after my shower, I had time to dart to my room and get dressed. Guess the guy wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to get home early to help.

“Jo,” he says, still facing away from me.

“Yes?” I squeak.

“Why exactly aren’t you getting dressed yet?”

“Oh. Right! Okay, I’ll do that right now. I’ll just be …” I back down the hall. “I’m almost out of eyeshot, so you can turn around. Soon.”

“Not gonna do that while you’re still talking to me.”

“Maybe count backward from five?” I suggest.