“Good night, Haze,” I whisper.
The tension between us is so thick I know I won’t be falling asleep anytime soon. He doesn’t say a word for a while, until eventually, he breaks the silence.
“Good night, Kingston.”
I have no idea how long this teasing thing is going to last, or what it’s going to take for us to stop lying to ourselves, but from what I can gather, neither of us intend to break first.
I think back to what happened at the restaurant and mentally curse. Just friends, huh? Really, Haze? You want to play this game with me?
Fine.
May the best “friend” win.
9
Kiss Me
“Let’s just say we’re sick.” Haze’s voice echoes all the way from the kitchen to the second floor.
“Don’t even try. We’re going,” I say from the bedroom and analyze the girl staring back at me in the mirror. I barely recognize myself under the winged eyeliner and mascara. This is the first time, since I moved into the lake house with Haze, that I’ve made the effort of wearing some of the makeup I bought—because Kendrick didn’t pack mine as it would go against his plan to make me look like a hobo.
Today is Vic and Bea’s dinner party. It’s already been a week since I promised to make my “friendship” with Haze unbearable, and we’re supposed to be spending the day at Vic’s apartment. Since we won’t be coming back to the house to get ready, I figured I’d pick out a dress to put on later and do my makeup in advance.
I open one of the many closets in the room—more specifically the one Haze told me to use—and reach for the black dress the creepy Ryder guy bought for me. I have two other dresses lined up, but I can’t choose. I walk back to the mirror and hold dress number three up in front of my body.
Apparently, they weren’t kidding when they said to dress up. Vic even called to make sure Haze wouldn’t show up in a T-shirt. But what else did I expect from someone who lives in a town like this?
The six weeks are up and I’ve been able to walk again for a few days now. When I got my splint removed and put my foot back down for the first time in a while, I realized how much I’d missed it. Not needing Haze for everything I do felt strange at first, but I easily slid right back into my routine.
I throw the tight and fancy black dress on to refresh my memory. It looks even better than I remember. It rounds up my behind and accentuates curves I didn’t even know I had. This is definitely going in my “catfish people into thinking I work out” pile.
“What’s taking so lo—” I hear Haze come in and turn around quickly. My mouth opens on its own. I’ve never seen him look hotter. He’s wearing a white shirt that looks like it was designed for him, the rolled-up sleeves revealing his inked left arm and making me wonder why he only got one arm tattooed.
The contrast is intriguing, endearing. One side is dark, intimidating while the other is bright and bare. One side says, “I’ll make you scream my name,” while the other says, “I’ll meet your mama.” This constant fight between good and evil, the troubled and the wise, the light and the darkness… this is such an accurate representation of who he is as a person.
I wonder if he knows his life story is written on his skin.
Escaping my thoughts, I stare and wait for him to finish speaking. I don’t know if it’s the makeup or the dress, but his words seem to have left him.
“What?” I glance back at my reflection, a bit worried.
“Winter, you look…” He doesn’t speak for a little while. “Amazing.”
I flush. “Thanks.”
He stares for a few more seconds. Then, like he just remembered that we’re still torturing each other, he looks away and clears his throat.
“What’s taking so long? We have to b
e at Vic’s in twenty minutes.”
I hold back a sigh.
“I can’t choose a dress. Can you help me?”
“Meh. I’m not sure I’m qualified, Kingston.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway.
“Come on, do it for me.” I let our eyes meet. “Be a good friend.”