The Scarred Wife's Racing Five

Chapter Five

POV Holly

“Holly?” The voice called again while I stared at the small barrier between us.

“J-Just a second!” I answered before rushing to throw my clothes on; yanking a large white shirt over my body and a pair of worn black shorts. My body shook as pain riddled through me, but I knew I had to grin and bear it. I don’t really know this guy enough to pour out my life story. However, the longer I sit here, the higher the likelihood that Noah might try for the handle himself! I glanced at my torso as the fabric fell over my bruised skin. The flashbacks started, and I winced as the terror made my skin break out in a cold sweat.

“Holly? I just wanted to give you something.”

I gasped as Noah’s voice came through the door. I was thankful for the distraction. “Oh, okay. I’m coming.” I patted my face gently and focused on staying in the now. I’m not going to lose my dignity or my sanity because that asshole decided it was appropriate to beat me half dead again before I was finally able to escape.

“Alright?” I heard Noah’s voice again while I hyped myself up in the mirror. Then I saw it. The bruises rising up towards my neck. There is no way he isn’t going to see those. I quickly grabbed the towel and slung it over my shoulders. I don’t have time for his pity.

Heaving, I yanked the door open to be welcomed by Noah staring down at me with a blanket in his hand. I raised a brow, and he immediately turned away, clearing his throat. “Is there something I can help you with?” I huffed harshly, finally catching my breath. He shook his head as his eyes darted down towards my shirt again. What?! Did I have a stain on them or something? Wait…maybe the towel came loose!

I glanced down, and my face paled when I realized exactly what his eyes were drawn to. I didn’t put a bra on under my shirt. It is to sleep in, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I cannot believe he’s looking at me like I’m some lewd street walker. Shoving the blanket into my chest, Noah snapped me out of my own thoughts and I gratefully used the fabric to cover my modesty. “I thought you’d get cold up here. When I didn’t hear anything in your room, I figured you’d be here.”

“Oh…thanks for that.” I said, stumbling over my words. “Why would you -” I wanted to ask him why he bothered to help me after he gave me such nice living accommodations, but I decided to hold my tongue. It's just a blanket. Then, my stomach thought it would be fun to make itself known. It roared to life like I hadn’t eaten in months. All I could do was squeak at the embarrassment as my cheeks reddened. It’s not like I starved or anything, but proper meals weren’t necessarily my priority when working was my only survival…and escape.

He smirked and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Are you hungry? I’m sure I can find something around here or order-in some breakfast.” I darted my eyes around the now brightened hallway and shook my head. “I don’t think that was very believable.” He clipped again. As if on queue, my stomach growled louder and I bit my lip. Glancing through my lashes, he raised a brow and I groaned in defeat. Why does he always see through me? How does he always see through me? It’s like I’m on full display. I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that we just met yesterday and I feel so exposed with him, or my stomach being a complete glutton in the doorway of this stranger’s bathroom.

“Alright, fine. If you’re offering, a little breakfast wouldn’t hurt. Just…don’t go overboard. It will be hard to pay you back.” I huffed, and he nodded silently before disappearing around the corner. When I heard the main door close, I raced toward the living room and found the place empty. I guess he decided to order out?

I shook my head and headed over to the guest room as my bare feet padded against the hardwood. Unfolding the warm fabric, I gently placed it down on my bed and grinned at the extra comfort. Digging through my bag, I found a book I’d been wanting to finish for a while now. Plopping into the bed, I sighed in relief at the soft fabric engulfing my worn muscles.

It wasn’t long until I heard a knock at my open door. I smiled towards him and the tray of fruits, croissants, and jam. “I thought this would be enough for now.” He said, and I immediately nodded in agreement.

Climbing out of the large bed, I leaned over to catch my balance. Unfortunately for me, my shirt decided to reveal more to him than I ever wanted to expose. I immediately snapped my body upright, and he nodded in my direction before leaving. Not a word from Mister, strong and silent before I heard the main door click behind him again. “Good going, idiot.” I whispered to myself before grabbing the tray of food and plopping back down on the bed.

As I started to eat the delicious meal, my tense shoulders and flushed face started to relax into the moment. Each bite eased every worry I had before, and the warm tea was like a cherry on top. I don’t know how he is so attentive, but I am not complaining. As I watched the sun rise further in the sky, I stretched with relief and leaned back to divulge in my book again. After another hour, I stretched once against the comfortable warmth beneath me before giving up on the rest of the chapter, and snuggled in for a well-deserved night sleep.

POV Noah

Yeah, I think I’ve lost my mind. Running downstairs faster than I thought possible, like a kid caught stealing a cookie. I didn’t even say anything back there. I’m sure that made it worse. It’s not my fault, it’s…been a while. I mean…that deliciously plump cleavage under her shirt was tantalizing. In that moment, all I wanted was to throw her on the bed and…explore more of the treasure hiding beneath her clothes.

It was like she was trying to tease me! One second I see her taunt n*****s through the white cotton fabric of her shirt and the next I almost find myself in nirvana with a damn peep show. Now, because of her, the last thing on my mind was sleeping. I’ve been driving all night and all I can think of is the lewd dreams my mind will conjure the minute I close my eyes. Geeze, I’m like some hormone-struck teenager.

Luckily for me, my shop was closed today and I already knew what I could do to take my mind off of the little vixen hiding upstairs. A cold shower and some time under a car. I walked into my office bathroom, turned the shower to freezing before peeling off my suit, and shoving my body into the bone-chilling spray.

Taking a deep breath, I stared at the tile in front of me. At least that’s what I thought I was looking at, but instead an image of her blushing cheeks and long curly hair I could volunteer to wrap my fingers in came into view.

I slammed my fist against the wall as the conflicting dilemma enraged me. How many times do I need to torture myself? I know better than this. I cannot go back again. I won’t go back again. I’m fine being alone, and I’m going to keep it that way. “I’m not going to let every blush or bite of her lip send me into a childish wet dream!” I growled to no one, as my hand weakly slipped from the tile.

After hiding in the bathroom for what felt like forever, I dried off quickly, grabbed a pair of pants, underwear, socks and some boots, threw them on and rushed to my garage faster than I left my flat upstairs. I cranked up the music as high as it would go until all I could think about was the next beat of the song or the next diagnosis on a car.