Knowing Noah

nine

c a r t i e r

The hot spice of cinnamon sits heavy on my tongue, an unwanted gift from Noah's mouth for mine. My body is alive, on the edge of exploding only I'm unsure if it's pleasure or anger that's wanting to burst from my splitting seams.

Brushing the baby hairs from sticking to my perspiring neck I try to right myself fixing my clothes sitting to heavy on my wet skin and adjusting the waistband that feels as if it's constricting around me.

"Get it together, Cartier." I coach myself trying to regain back the control of my own body and thoughts. Every time I come into contact with Noah Turner I feel as if I'm in a losing fight. No matter how badly I want to remain unemotional his chaotic presence alone elicits some sort of response from me, causing my blood to boil and heat. "He's my employee, damnit."

With that reminder, I drop the wicker basket onto the countertop of my kitchen and ball up the ruined white sheets to be cleaned again. I throw them to the side and glare over my shoulder at the neatly folded sheets intended for him and grimace.

He can sleep in his filth for all I care.

I'm not giving him my lush sheets anymore. He doesn't deserve them. He's much too disgusting with his constantly dirty and calloused hands down to his stained clothes.

Images of his rough hands gliding up my thighs penetrate my internal tirade.

Abruptly I stop and grip the counter forcing the air out through my nostrils trying to express him out through my breath. Even my bra feels as if it's tightened to two sizes too small.

How is he doing this to me? I don't react this way. It's like I'm some animal in heat.

Closing my eyes ignoring the images assaulting my mind's eye of being in his truck tangled in his arms not thirty minutes ago I try to compose myself, "Just stop. He means nothing." I breathe out the words hoping the act of bringing them to life will somehow help coax him out of my system. "He's my employee. He's just a boy."

The moment my breathing slows to a much normal pace my eyes open and my ears train on a rumble growing louder and louder. Then a massive tractor, forest green in color, appears in my back garden pulling up behind the destroyed old truck still halfway inside the rose bush.

"What's this?" I ask completely confused.

A young woman jumps from the cabin of the tractor, dressed in thick jeans and a plain green shirt. She rounds the back of the giant rear tires of the tractor fixing the work gloves to her hands.

Movement from the trail leading to the lake house pulls my attention from the girl with dark cropped braided hair to Noah appearing giving her a friendly wave and smile.

"Who is this?" I lean to my tiptoes watching them.

I watch as she greets him and points to his truck and laughs. Noah shakes his head disapprovingly and goes to the cabin of the tractor hauling out an old tow rope. His arms flexing and shining beneath the hot sun. He is exquisite-

No! no.

"Get your shit together." I bite out and rustle around the sheets folding the destroyed linens neatly angry with myself then glance up through my lashes to steal another voyeuristic peek.

Noah and the girl are working well together. They touch each other frequently as if they've known each other for a long time. She is around his age, maybe younger. And she's beautiful, dark hair braided back into short choppy braids and a beautiful angelic face. She's petite but not thin and she boasts a small chest and tight legs.

My eyes drop to my ample chest, fake and large, then I suck nervously on my bottom lip tasting the lipstick still there. I fixate on the window from my faded image and notice my lipstick smeared all over my face. "ugh, I'm an idiot." My heart sinks realizing how stupid I must look, matching me inside.