Learning the Ropes (4 page)

“I’m sorry.”

Rory’s bottom lip started quivering at his softly uttered apology. “I’m sorry too. But you… you can’t talk to me like that.”

Noah ran a hand down his face and felt the heat where her handprint was no doubt on his skin. “I know and I’m sorry. There is no excuse for what I said.”

Rory nodded and faced forward in her seat. “Light’s green.”

They had travelled more than a mile before she spoke again. “So who was it that I was supposedly dating when we kissed?”

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Greg Francis.”

Rory let out a bark of surprised laughter, but there was no humor in it. “Are you kidding me? Greg Francis and I went on two dates and then he practically molested me on my doorstep. He called me a tease and we never spoke again. I guess you two have something in common.”

“I never called you a tease.”

“Didn’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Rory put her hand to her head and groaned. “My head is swimming.”

“Do you feel sick?” Noah slowed down in case she needed him to pull over and glanced at her worriedly.

Rory smiled wryly. “Not yet. But I imagine I’ll be hating life tomorrow.”

“We’ll get you some water and maybe some crackers when you get home. That should soak up some of the booze while you sleep,” he said.

“I feel like I’m going to float away.” Rory giggled and let her head fall back against the seat, once more a happy drunk. Noah wondered if she was going to remember anything that had transpired between them tonight. “I can’t remember the last time I drank this much. Probably college. One of the fraternity rush parties. I was so sick the next day.”

“Let’s hope this time turns out better. But now that you mention it, why were you tying one on so heavy?” Noah turned onto her street and parked in front of her building, an old house that had been chopped into four apartments. It was in the more sedate section of town, surrounded by churches, parks, and neighborhood homes. He could easily imagine Rory raising a family in this neighborhood. A thought his mind shied away from quickly.

Rory heaved a large sigh and rolled her head towards him. “Just lonely, I guess. Mac’s always busy and I can’t get in touch with Celeste. Brianna doesn’t go out late because she has to be up so early with the track team for practice. Everyone has somewhere better to be except for me.”

“And me,” Noah couldn’t resist adding. “I wasn’t exactly fighting off the company this evening.”

Rory just shrugged before she continued. “And those guys seemed nice and they were buying me drinks and they wanted to talk to me, so I drank. And now I’m going to pay for it.” She tried a little smile but it looked faked. She sounded so sad he couldn’t keep himself from reaching out to her. He lightly slid his fingers down the side of her face. She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.

Her skin was soft and cool to his touch and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but there was still too much unsettled between them—plus she was drunk. So he withdrew his hand and got out of the truck, making it around to her side before she could even get her door open. He scooped her up in his arms and shut the door behind him with his foot. She murmured a little in protest but lay her head on his shoulder as he carried her up to the second floor. She stumbled as he put her down so she could retrieve her key and he placed his hands on her hips to steady her.

She pushed open the door and wandered into the dark apartment. There was a nightlight on the microwave in the kitchen and he guided her there so that he could get her some water. He sat her on one of the bar stools and then began opening cabinets until he located her glasses.

“Here, drink this.” As she gulped down a glass of cold water, he couldn’t resist saying, “You know, if you get lonely, you can call me.”

She set the glass down with a thunk and squinted up at him. “We hate each other.”

“We don’t hate each other. At least, I don’t hate you. And you said in the car that you like me.” He refilled the glass and pushed it back over the counter to her. “Admit it, you like me.”

Rory rolled her eyes, but smiled at him as she picked up the glass. “All I’ll say is that you have distinct moments of not being too terrible.”

“That is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me,” he said.

Noah leaned over the counter and grinned at her. Things between them felt easy and familiar in a way they never had before. A fact that he hoped Rory realized as well. Her blue eyes were heavy-lidded and she slumped onto her side of the counter.

“I should go,” he said with regret. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do but he was finding self-control in short supply. A silly, sleepy Rory was too much temptation to resist and if alcohol hadn’t been the cause of her change in feelings for him he would have had her in bed in a heartbeat.

“Don’t go. I’m not tired at all.”

Noah chuckled as Rory tried to get her words out around a big yawn. It was obviously time for him to head home, but the fact that she wanted him to stay was gratifying. He moved around the counter and assisted her down from the bar stool before guiding her towards a short hallway and what he believed to be her bedroom.

Sure enough, the only two rooms at the end of the hall were the bedroom and the bathroom. There was enough light coming through the sheer curtains for him to turn down her covers without turning on the bedside lamp. After sitting in the half-light from the microwave for so long, he was worried her eyes would have trouble adjusting to anything brighter.

He turned around as something sharp struck the back of his calf. It was Rory’s high heel and he only had a second to move out of the way before she kicked the other one off. When she started unbuttoning her jeans, he decided that he needed to leave now or settle in for the show.

“I’ll just go get you some more water and pain reliever before you go to sleep.” He made a quick escape back to the bathroom and a glance in her medicine cabinet netted him the medicine. The sound of her humming softly drifted across the hall as he retraced his steps to the kitchen. Grabbing her glass of water, he headed to the refrigerator for some ice to give her a few seconds to finish up with whatever bedtime ablutions she planned to go through.

A piece of paper stuck to the fridge with a magnet caught his attention though. There was a big fat F in bright red on the top of the paper. He assumed it was some sort of test, but why would Rory display it? Whatever their personal issues, he knew that she loved her students and would never condone one of them receiving a failing grade. On closer examination, it was Rory’s name printed neatly in the top corner of the paper. Reasoning that nothing
truly
personal would be tacked up in the kitchen, Noah pulled it off to take a closer look.

And what a look it was. Rory had taken some type of sex quiz! The questions ranged from tame to pretty risque and made him grin just thinking of Rory reading them. And then burn hot thinking of Rory reading them and getting ideas in her pretty little head.

Although according to the grade, she might need some help figuring out how to implement those ideas. Noah read through the questions with increasing interest. It appeared to be one of those chick magazine quizzes. A little campy, a little trashy, and a lot illuminating when he factored in her responses.

After reading halfway through the quiz, Noah realized that Rory’s humming had stopped. He quickly shoved the wrinkled paper back onto the fridge and filled the glass up with ice and water to take back to her. When he reached her room, she was lying on top of the covers, her eyes half open and a small smile on her face. He left the hall door open so he could find his way around and see her facial expressions.

“Here you go. Take some of this pain reliever.” Noah extended his hand and tried to get Rory to take the pills from him but she just smiled and shook her head.

“I feel fine, I don’t need any medicine.”

Noah barked out a laugh. “I’m sure you feel fantastic now. It’s tomorrow that I’m worried about.” He replaced the pills in the bottle and set it on her nightstand next to her water glass.

“You’re worried about me?” Rory took a hold of his wrist and exerted a slight pressure to get him to sit on the edge of her mattress. “That’s so sweet, Noah. “

Noah swallowed and tried to keep his gaze away from her exposed legs and on some kind of straight and narrow. It was difficult to find though. While he had been fetching her water she had seemingly been coming up with the best plan possible to torment him. She was wearing a long T-shirt and nothing else. Well, maybe she was wearing panties but it seemed like the worst time possible to try to find out. Her eyes were artificially bright from the alcohol and her cheeks were rosy from the same. Reclining against the pillows in her darkened room, she was every hot dream he’d had about her since their aborted kiss, and he wanted her.

Almost of its own volition, his hand lifted to cup her neck. He allowed himself one moment to stroke the soft skin at her pulse point before pulling back. She caught his hand and cradled it between her smaller ones.

“Why don’t you lie down with me for a little while?”

Noah forced himself to look away from her inviting smile and made a project of setting up her water and pain reliever on the nightstand next to her. “I’ve really got to go home, Rory.” Noah cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m going to leave this here so you can take it in the morning.”

He stood and quickly pulled the covers out from under her, causing her to flop back on her stack of pillows while dodging her attempts to kiss him as he made short work of tucking her in. “There you go.”

“Noah, stay. Please.”

“You’re too drunk, Rory.” Noah leaned down and stole a short kiss from her pouting lips. “We can talk about it another day when you have a clearer head.”

“Oh, won’t that day be fun.”

Noah struggled not to laugh at her disgruntled expression. “I’m sure it will be. I’m going to turn the bottom lock on your front door so you’re all safe and sound in here. Call if you need anything tomorrow.”

“Ha! Not likely,” Rory snorted.

Noah paused at her bedroom door and smiled at her. “They say you’re not supposed to go to bed angry.”

“That’s for married people. Not people who hate each other.”

“Rory, Rory, Rory. Do we have to go through this again? You don’t hate me and I certainly don’t hate you. Not a minute ago you were begging me to stay.”

“Begging you? Are you sure
you
aren’t drunk? And I’ve changed my mind anyway. Let’s just chalk the whole night up to bad judgment and forget it, okay?”

Noah shook his head and turned to leave. “I’m not going to be able to do that, sweetheart. And I’m not going to let you forget either. Sweet dreams.”

“Good riddance,” Rory mumbled not so very far under her breath.

Noah managed to contain his laughter until he left her apartment. It seemed like Rory was back to disliking him, but he knew better. She was looking at him again like she had a long time ago. Like she hadn’t wanted him to leave. So what if she had changed her mind at the end? He’d made her laugh more times today than he had in the past six months combined. It was forward motion. And he’d take whatever he could get from Miss Rory Puckett.

Chapter Three

Rory rolled over in bed and grimaced as something hard and lumpy dug into the middle of her back. She would have considered ignoring it and going back to sleep if her legs weren’t also tangled up in the sheets and her top half wasn’t absolutely freezing. Moving gingerly, she moved to one side and dug around behind her for the offending object and was thrilled to find a small plastic container of pain medicine. Apparently, God still loved her despite her epic drinking failure the night before.

He wasn’t going to let her off the hook scot-free though if the bile pushing up in her throat was anything to go by. Figuring she had a better chance of survival if she took the medicine in an upright position, Rory slowly pushed her torso up until she was half sitting and half leaning against the headboard. The room spun hazily around her as she tried to concentrate on opening the small container. Damn childproofing!

Eventually, three round tablets fell into her hand and Rory was ready to proceed to part two of her plan for the day: getting them down her throat and to stay in her stomach somehow. It was really all she thought she would be able to manage for the day anyway. Moving her head slowly, she focused on the nightstand and the glass of water that sat there looking like salvation. It seemed that Drunk Rory was a pretty forward-thinking gal. It was a shame that last night was going to be her last appearance.

After several deep breaths and an effort to only move her arm and not her head, she was able to grasp the glass of water and take her pain pills. Lying back down seemed like it might be a good idea but she was worried that any movement would make her stomach revolt. She compromised on shutting her eyes and trying to keep her mind off thinking about food in any way.

She had always found the strange irony of hangovers to be that although just the mere thought of food was enough to send her hurtling for the nearest toilet, she was often starving from working off so many calories through sheer stupidity. It took a lot of energy to ignore the little voice in her head that told her she was making bad decisions.

Thank God it was Saturday. Not that Rory was in the habit of going out on a school night and getting bombed, but this hangover seemed like it could very well spill over into the rest of the weekend. If she was lucky, she might make it to the living room sofa by Sunday afternoon. Just in time for a
Law & Order: SVU
marathon if she played her cards right. She had no plans other than to sleep and maybe right her future self a quick letter about the evils of drinking should she ever need to be reminded again.

She was just about to fall back asleep when a piercing jangle startled her so that she shot into a fully upright position. Her hands instinctively reached for the two places where her pain was the most acute: her head and her stomach. Short, choppy motions were not her friends today. A brave glance at the area from which the noise was originating proved it to be her cell phone on the nightstand. So maybe Drunk Rory wasn’t so smart after all. If she had truly been a genius, she would have turned the damn thing off, foreseeing Hung-Over Rory’s need for silence. She tried ignoring the noise but no matter how much she moaned it wouldn’t stop.