Haven

11. Grief

Norah lay in bed, listening to the sounds of the ocean. With each crash of a wave, she told herself she would get up and go out to tell Rylan to go, and when each wave came, her body tensed, but she didn't move.

She'd been listening to see if he was awake, but she hadn't heard the front door open or close; the house was silent. Sleeping on it, she had had time to think about everything that happened last night and the night before.

Would it really be so bad if he stayed for a few days?

She didn't like the idea of needing someone to look out for her, but thinking of Liam and Blake and the vibe they had, it gave Norah comfort knowing someone else was in the house with her. Even if he did act like jerk eight times out of ten.

The waves crashed once more, and Norah sat up, deciding she wouldn't make him leave today. She would wait a few days and see what happened. Hopefully Liam's little group would forget about her, and she could go back to her boring life.

Throwing on a large dark blue sweater, she padded silently out into the kitchen. She looked at the couch, Rylan was still fast asleep, and she wondered what he did during the day. She remembered hearing the sound of a saw during their last phone call and she guessed he worked at the Montoya's Mill. She'd come home late last night, and she wondered if he'd had to stay awake and keep an eye on her.

She grabbed some bread and put it in the toaster as the kettle boiled. His legs were twisted, hanging over the top of the couch and she stared at his feet, thinking of how this would work. It had been so long since she had lived with someone, she didn't know if she should make rules or clear a shelf for him in the fridge. He's only staying for a few days, she reminded herself.

But he was meant to be protecting her so she should make his stay comfortable...

The kettle popped and she poured the tea and buttered her toast before spreading her favourite raspberry jam. She glanced back at Rylan, he still seemed to be asleep and instead of sitting at the table, she stepped out onto the front veranda, worried she would wake him.

It was a cool morning, the sun hadn't broken through the grey clouds so the air had a bite to it. Sitting on the top step, she ate slowly staring out at the ocean. She wondered what her main characters would do if a werewolf suddenly started sleeping on their couch. Joseph, her male protagonist, would be bewildered, at a man sleeping on his couch. His first action would be to call the police and then hide in case the guy tried to kill him.

Norah took a sip of tea, enjoying the warmth spread through her body. She really needed to help Joseph become more manlier. Tasha, her female protagonist would be fascinated by him, especially if she got to see him without his shirt on. She would sit and stare at his chest, fingers twitching with a strange desire to trace the contours - wait!

Norah shook her head, her face burning. Was that really Tasha who wanted to do that?

A familiar truck rolled down the track and she finished her toast, standing up. "I wasn't expecting you to be alive at this time of morning," Norah called as Brad stepped out from the truck.

He smiled ruefully and walked over to stand on the bottom step. "I've dosed myself so I can be functional for work. I think Dylan might be doing most of it though today."

"Ah, the joys of being the boss," Norah teased. He ran a hand through his hair and she could see the shadows under his eyes. His skin was pale and she didn't think he'd be doing anything for the day.

"I just came over this morning to apologise. Dylan filled me in on some of the blanks and I feel like an idiot."

"Alcohol does that to you," Norah finished her tea and put the cup on the railing. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean any of it."