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Nolan ran a hand down his mouth, trying to cover his grin. Isla had always veered on the side of being slightly naïve, but it wasn’t her fault. Her parents and grandma spoiled her rotten. She never had to lift a finger when she lived at home, so to see her in this big house by herself, learning everything at once was impressive. That wasn’t something the girl he remembered would have been able to do.
“Since you’re going to be washing them anyway, why don’t you go grab a few out of the hamper?”
She bit her lip again, and he had to divert his attention from the plump flesh. “I would, but I kind of started washing them and forgot to put them in the dryer…”
“Wait, how many towels did you put in the washer?”
“All of them.”
Oh Jesus, take the wheel.
“It was making a really loud thumping noise, so I left to run a few errands and when I came back, I forgot to throw them in the dryer.”
“The thumping noise was probably because it was off balance. When you overload the machine that can happen.”
“Oh.”
“They probably didn’t spin out right either. How long have they been in the machine? You might want to hang them outside to dry.”
“Um.” Her eyelashes swept the apples of her cheeks, and her eyes stayed focused on the ground like it was the most interesting floor she’d ever seen. “Yesterday…”
“You know they’re going to smell, right?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you for your help, but I can take it from here.”
“How? You don’t even have a towel to clean up this mess.”
Her shoulders slumped forward, and her lips curved down. “I think you’ve seen enough. The Isla Show is closing, so please go home.”
“The Isla Show? What are you talking about?”
She sighed, loudly. “All these examples of my incompetence. All I wanted was to prove to you that I’m not the same girl I was when you left, yet here you are, witnessing me in all my pathetic glory.”
“You’re not pathetic.”
“I don’t even know how to wash towels! I don’t know how to turn the water off, or how to own an entire house for that matter. I don’t know what the hell my grandma was thinking. The most responsibility I’ve ever had in my life was working till close at the flower shop and locking up. I can’t do this.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes filled with a sheen of tears.
“Hey,” he said, taking her face in his hands. He rubbed his thumb across the apple of her cheek, brushing away a solitary tear that escaped.
“Yes, you can.”
“I can’t.”
He smiled. “You already are. You’re here. You’ve moved out of your parents’ house and you’re living in this house by yourself. You’re going to figure it out as you go.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“You have to start somewhere. My first day in Seattle, I set the smoke alarm off four times trying to make bacon.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t step away from his touch. “Everyone does that.”
His eyebrow arched. “Four times?”
“My record is six.”
“What the hell were you cooking?”
“Asparagus.”
