Page 26 of Scar Tissue

Successfully leaving her room, I return to my own, leaning my forehead against the door as soon as it’s closed. I remain there for a few minutes before I pull myself together enough to hop in the shower and get dressed. Ten minutes later, I’m in the kitchen making coffee and searching the fridge for food to whip up for breakfast. I’m determined to make Claire feel welcome in whatever way I can, especially after her first night here. She isn’t awake yet, which gives me time to mix something up.

I’m in the middle of frying up pancakes and bacon when I hear the staccato of Thea’s footsteps down the hallway before she makes an appearance in front of me, and fuck, if she isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s dressed in a denim skirt that lands about mid-thigh on her, paired with a pink floral tank top that ties together at the top. Her hair is thrown into a messy bun on top of her head with a braid on one side of her head before it meets the tie holding her hair up. But my favorite part? She’s kept her face free of makeup. Don’t get me wrong, I love her with both, but this right here? When I can see the natural glow of her skin? It feels like I’m seeing her for the first time all over again. Between the way her eyes seem to shine a little brighter, the subtle flush of her lips, and the soft smattering of freckles across her cheeks, it’s enough to bring me to my knees. And apparently enough to make my cock spring to life. “Uh, Nathan?”

“Huh? Were you saying something?” I adjust my stance, hoping she can’t see the boner that I’m rocking.

“I said your bacon is burning.” She gestures to the smoke rising from the pan.

I flip the pancake I’ve been working on before rushing to the pan full of bacon, removing it from the heat. “Fuck.” Some of the pieces are charred but most are salvageable. She chuckles lightly at my expense before walking and sitting herself at the island while I finish what I’m doing. Reaching for her mug where I’ve prepared it next to the coffee pot, I hand it to her and watch her take a tentative sip.

“Mmmm,” she moans as her eyes roll back. I have to avert mygaze because this is not helping me focus on anything except the raging hard-on I have. “This is perfect.”

I glance at her as I dish her up a plate. “Yeah?”

She nods. “What did you put in it?”

“Two tablespoons of caramel syrup and a quarter cup of cream. Whipped cream optional, but…” I open the fridge and pull out a can, setting it in front of her.

“This is my favorite coffee combination,” she sighs as she tops her coffee off with the whipped cream.

Smirking slightly, I plate pancakes for Claire for when she chooses to join us. “I know.”

Her eyes flick to mine, surprised. “You do?”

“I pay attention…”

She doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the softness in her eyes or the way she blushes. “I’m going to see if Claire wants to eat anything, I’ll join you in a minute.” Walking down the hall, I rap on her door several times but am greeted by silence. Checking the time, I note it’s ten. I knock again before trying the doorknob and realizing it’s locked. Frowning, I press my ear to the door but hear no sound on the other side. “Claire?” Still nothing. My stomach knots. I have no idea if she’s a heavy sleeper or not, this is only her first night here. She wouldn’t have run off, would she? I turn back toward the kitchen, where Thea is still sipping her coffee. “She’s not answering her door.”

Quiet concern flashes across her brows before she stands up and makes an attempt at getting her to answer, but still she doesn’t come to the door.

“I’m going to grab the spare key,” I say before entering my room. My fingers close around the cool metal of the key I keep in my nightstand for emergencies before I insert it into the keyhole and swing the door open. Her bed is neatly made, untouched despite the amount of time she spent in here yesterday and last night. My pulse spikes in fear. Thea checks the window where the blinds are drawn,but it’s unlocked. “She’s not here.” I run my hand through my hair as I rest my other on the back of my neck. “Fuck.”

Thea walks to the closet then, opening it slowly, and physically relaxes. When I approach her side, relief floods me. Pushed into the farthest corner, hidden beneath clothes hanging above her, she is curled underneath a blanket with her head resting against one of the spare pillows. It’s no wonder she didn’t hear us, she has her headphones snug over her ears and is fast asleep. Thea places her hand over her heart as she looks at me with sadness in her eyes. “Oh, Claire…” She pushes past me and kneels, lightly brushing her arm. She stirs immediately, sitting ramrod straight with wide eyes, and I note the moment her breathing increases. She’s scared.

“It’s okay, it’s just us.” She blinks from Thea to me before her posture relaxes and she tugs her headphones from her head.

“What time is it?” she asks with a hoarse voice.

“Almost ten. You weren’t answering and I got worried.” I try to keep my tone light so she doesn’t hear the lingering concern. She still doesn’t trust us fully, but I plan to rectify that.

There’s a rare vulnerability to her expression and posture. One that I haven’t seen from her yet as she rubs her eyes and says, “I’m sorry…I couldn’t sleep in the bed last night. The closet felt safer…”

I can see the moment where Thea’s heart cracks at that because it’s in the same moment mine does. “Are you hungry? I made pancakes and bacon.” I choose not to push because she would elaborate if she wanted to.

“Maybe just stick to the pancakes,” Thea remarks. “The bacon is more like charred wood.” She holds a hand up to shield her mouth from me, feigning a whisper.

“I heard that,” I grumble. But for the first time, a true smile graces her face. It’s small, but it’s there. She nods slightly as Thea helps her out of the closet and leads her from the room to the kitchen. I don’t miss the look she gives me when they walk by me. It’s a start.

Chapter

Seventeen

NATHAN

Thea left shortly after breakfast—something about an interview for the job she put an application in for. I really wish she knew she didn’t need a job. If it were up to me, she’d never want for anything. But I’m determined not to act like Fletcher. That’s the one point of contention between him and Dylan, and the only time I’ve ever seen them get into it. Although, a part of me can’t really blame him considering the last job she had resulted in her being kidnapped by her ex-boyfriend who also worked there. Yet, I digress. Now it’s just Claire and I in the house as I clean up the kitchen and she watches something on the television. My burner phone chimes, indicating a text message from my boss:

We’ve got a breakthrough. Give me a call.

Looking up from my phone, Claire is still focused on whatever she’s watching when I dial the number and put it to my ear. They answer on the second ring. “Dyer.”