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She pulls the door shut again. “Oh, I know! Maybe you can give me my first tattoo before I go.”
“I don’t tattoo anymore,” I say.
“Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
“I don’t think so.”
She walks over to the three bookcases that line the wall opposite the couch. “Jeez, you really do read everything.” She squats in front of the first bookcase and drags a finger over the spines, slowing when she reaches the books I have about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Perhaps I should’ve tucked a few out of sight. One or two books aboutOCD could be explained away, but seven? I tidied up this morning, but I didn’t expect her to do such a thorough examination.
My OCD isn’t a secret, but it’s never an easy conversation. I usually hold off on telling people because it inevitably changes things. Not at first, but only because most people have no idea what OCD really is. They assume I’m obsessed with germs or lining up office supplies, but I’m not. And when people learn what my intrusive thoughts are really about, they look at me differently.
Jack is a clown. Jack is fun. Jack worries he’ll kill someone on a weekly basis. Jack isn’t one hundred percent sure he hasn’t and will ask you about it a million times. It’s all fun and games until my OCD flares up. Then people decide it’s too much. The whole time my ex was breaking up with me, I wanted to say,If you think it’s too much for you, imagine being me!But I didn’t say it. There was no point.
But maybe Ishouldtell Raine about it now. She’ll only be here for twelve weeks, but the way things are going, she’ll find out anyway. More importantly, I like her more than I should. If I’m not mistaken, she likes me too. Maybe if she’d shown up a year ago it would be different, but she’s here now. I’m not at my best and don’t need to drag anyone else into it, however temporarily. And sure, we’ve agreed for Ollie to be her boss, but it’s just semantics. I own the pub; she works at the pub. Best to put that wedge between us now, just in case.
But Raine doesn’t say anything about the books, and when she gets to her feet, I lose my nerve. I want a little more time to be Jack before I become Jack-who-has-OCD.
I show her the bathroom next.
“Wow,” Raine says as soon as we step inside. “What a bathtub.”
I’ve spent a lot of time updating things since moving home. It keeps me busy, and every improvement makes it feel a little more like it belongs to me and nothim, especially the changes I know he’d hate.
Like this bathtub. Da would say it’s a waste of space, too feminine for a man. I use it as often as possible. An excellent reading spot, actually.
When Raine leans over the edge of the tub, I try not to stare at her arse. She turns over her shoulder, and I flick my gaze up to hers, hoping it isn’t obvious that I failed miserably at not staring at her arse.
“Well, I know where I’ll be every night,” she says with a grin. “I haven’t taken a good bath in ages.”
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.I’m not sure if she is doing this to me on purpose or not, but the problem with a brain like mine is that whenever I try not to think about something, the more it boomerangs back into my head, especially if it is something I shouldn’t or don’t want to think about. This is definitely in the first category.
I turn away from her and straighten the toothpaste tube beside the sink while discreetly pressing my fingertips to the counter and mentally undoing the thoughts I haven’t even thought yet, because I’m unsure if thinking aboutnotthinking about them counts as thinking about them, and even though I don’t believe in hell, I am suddenly terrified I’m wrong, and it does exist, and I’m going to end up there.
“I have a washer farther down the hall,” I say, desperate to change the subject. “I don’t have a dryer, but I do have a clothes-drying rack.”
“Great,” she says. “I’m going to need it, seeing as I have exactly five outfits, and two of them are Nina’s.” She turns back around, thank God, and perches on the side of the tub. She tugs at the shirt she’s wearing. It saysStraight out of patience #momlife.“Would you believe me if I said this was the most normal one?”
“I would.”
She sits with one leg crossed over the other. Something about hermismatched socks and the way she bounces her leg up and down makes me want to grab a pencil and a piece of paper, to capture her in a way a photograph never could.
I turn away from her to face the sink. “I know you went shopping this morning, but I have extra pads, tampons, all that sort of stuff in here,” I say, nudging the cabinet beneath the sink with my toe. “I’ve also got some hair elastics and one or two little deodorants too, I think.”
“Pads and tampons?”
I pull open the cabinet with my foot. “We keep the restrooms in the pub stocked with this stuff and have a ton extra, so I brought some up in case you’d need it.”
Raine laughs. “Well, thanks for the supplies. They should definitely last until April.” She gets to her feet with a sigh. “A man who considers menstrual needs? That’s sexy as hell.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth she freezes. “You didn’t hear me say that.”
I most definitely did and am adding it to the list of things about Raine Hart I will likely spend the rest of the day thinking about. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I say.
“Um, well...”
“Should we...”
“Go to another room?” She gets to her feet. “Yes, please. I think I’ve seen enough of the bathroom for now.”
She pushes past me as if she can’t leave the bathroom fast enough. I watch her go and,shite, now I’m staring at her arse again. In the hall, I step around her and lead the way into the kitchen, where we find Sebastian lounging on the floor with his toy baguette. When he takes notice of Raine, he picks up the baguette in his mouth and crosses the kitchen to drop it at her feet.
