Possess by J.A. Howell Page A

been an earthquake. Thinking back to it, I was even less convinced that Remy had managed to leap onto the counter earlier that day either.  While that tiny butterball had managed to scale the couch, he couldn’t have the ability or strength to launch himself as high as the counter. But what other explanation did I have? The only one I could think of was one I refused to believe.
    Was I sleepwalking again? It would explain waking up in the kitchen the other day. But then if I broke the mirror in my sleep last night, why weren't my hands covered in cuts? I shook my head, adjusting my weight as I sat back against the hard plastic chair. I watched my clothes spinning in the washing machine in front of me, hoping the hypnotic swirl of colors would somehow zap Brody's face from my thoughts.
    “Harley?” Nolan's deep husky voice startled me from my seat.
    “Ugh, don’t do that!” I shot him a sideways glance, sinking back into the molded yellowing plastic. His lips turned down into a concerned frown. “I had a long night.”
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean ta startle ya.” His blue eyes shifted to mine ruefully as he sat down beside me.
    “It’s fine.”
    “Bad dreams?” He rested his elbows on his knees, a few curls rolling forward as his crystalline eyes watched me. With those curls and those eyes, he was quite handsome – when he wasn’t being a jerk.
    “Just, uh...dreams about my home.” My words stunted together as I struggled to come up with something other than “Your dead friend shattered my fucking mirror,” which was sure to not go over well with him. “What are you doing here?” I gave him a suspicious look.
    “My, umm, laundry?” A smirk crossed his lips and I forced my gaze away from him as I felt the growing heat in my cheeks that was surely a nice rosy shade. The machine my clothes were spinning around in buzzed and I was relieved to find something to busy myself with. He remained leaned back in his chair, still watching me as I yanked open the door of the washer.  Dumping my wet heap of clothes into a laundry cart, I became very aware of just how many bras and panties were a part of the pile and my cheeks flushed once more. I purposely positioned myself in front of the cart, just in case he decided to peek at the contents.
    Pulling the cart a few machines over, I opened the door to an unoccupied dryer and started tossing my wet under things inside. As I glanced back toward Nolan, he suddenly pulled himself upright in his chair and emitted a cough as he averted his gaze and wiped a smirk from his face. Had he just been staring at my ass? I quickly stood up as I pushed the door shut then jammed quarters into the slot as I shot him a dirty look.
    “Listen, Harley. Since we’ve got a little bit of time ta kill waiting on our clothes, did ya want ta go get some coffee? I thought maybe we could talk.” As I turned back around, Nolan was standing with his hands shoved in his pockets and a hopeful look in his eyes. Even if I wanted to be pissed at him, that look alone made it difficult.
    “I guess that’s okay.” I shrugged then grabbed my jacket and wriggled into it. Once more I noticed, for the briefest second that his eyes were lingering on me as I finally managed to slip my arms into my jacket. Another little smirk pulled at his lips and his cheeks flushed as he turned for the door with me in tow.
    The cold air soothed my face. Despite a whole night’s rest, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. One more calm, dreamless night was all I wanted. One like the night when Nolan had made me stay at his place. I was half-tempted to ask if I could stay over again. Don’t even think about it!
     I watched him as we walked, tawny corkscrews of hair bobbing freely as the wind blew threw them and pushed them away from his face. I took in his broad muscular shoulders that narrowed into slim hips as he pulled his jacket tight around him. His pace slowed as we reached a tiny café. There was a small patio out