That’s definitely not the shower, although there’s always an unknown quality to men’s bathrooms. It’s like stepping into the jungle. Chest hairs, razor blades, shaving torture implements always lurk under towels, in corners, or anywhere else where the unsuspecting female may innocently step.
I grin at my reflecti
on.
Then make a face.
Not funny. All of this.
I am so happy to be back with him, even playing pretend. We never ended our fight – I just walked out and never came back. And we can’t finish it when he doesn’t even remember it.
What an awful person I am, sleeping with him, kissing him back and letting him think we are together. I’m sure there’s a special place in hell for me.
Then why can’t I find it in me to regret it?
Tucking my hair behind my ears, I wander into the living room, thinking what I could eat for breakfast, and wondering if I should go grab my stuff from the hotel. Despite my doubts, I’d rather not leave Kaden alone just yet. The doctor said to call him if his headaches get to bad or if his sense of balance gets worse instead of better.
Holding the towel over my breasts, I head toward the kitchen – when I hear the apartment door open, and I turn, brows arching, to scold Kaden for stepping out alone when he can barely stand straight.
There’s a man standing at the door all right, staring back at me– but it’s not Kaden.
After a long moment during which shock holds me still and mute, I manage a breath.
“Who the hell are you?” I look around for a weapon and swipe up something from the table, pointing it at him. “How did you get in?”
What I’m holding is the TV remote control. God, they make them big these days. My hand starts to shake, but I don’t lower it.
The guy takes one step toward me and stops, lifting his hands. “Hi, I’m Jared. Please put the remote down? It looks dangerous.”
His hair is dark and cropped short with a parting on the side, his eyes hazel and playful. The teasing look in them should relax me – only who is he and what is he doing here?
“Is Kaden in?” The guy glances around, his hands still in the air, as if he could have missed a six-foot-something man with shoulders like a quarterback lounging around the living room. “I heard he had an accident. Tried to visit at the hospital but they wouldn’t let me in. Only family, they said.” His gaze slides back at me. “That includes you, I assume. Hailey, right? Kaden’s girl?”
My hand with the remote is shaking harder. Feeling stupid, I put it down. “You know about me?”
“Of course I know about you. Kaden has been moping and getting shitfaced in your name day after day since you left.”
Whoa, okay. Not sure how I feel about that.
Worried. Happy.
Okay, mainly happy, and what does that say about me?
“Sorry,” the stranger says, “where are my manners? I’m Jared. Next door neighbor.”
And he approaches me and gives me his hand to shake, as if I hadn’t just pointed a remote at him.
I shake it. His grip is firm and warm. “Hailey.”
“The girl who left.” He nods as if finally understanding something.
I wish I could say the same.
“So you’re Kaden’s neighbor…and have a key to his apartment.” Not that it stings he never gave me one during the time we were together… Yeah, I’m lying. “Is that normal? Like a bromance thing?”
“A what?” He frowns and perches his ass on the armrest of the sofa, crossing his hands on his knee. Like a supermodel posing for a photo.
Hm. He is pretty photogenic. Pretty all around. Trust Kaden to have neighbors who look like old time cinema stars.