“Fine,” I mutter, then my eyes travel to the room beside his. “And this is mine, I assume?”
“Yeah.” He pushes open the door.
The room is big enough for me. Like the rest of the apartment, the walls are white. Brown curtains drape across the window and a decent-sized bed sits neatly in the middle of the room, along with a small closet shoved in the corner.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to decorate.” He stands by the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets as he shrugs. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to rent this place out so soon.”
“Yeah, well, I can see why,” I murmur, dropping my bag on the bed. I feel like I’m living in a murder house.
Kayden’s eyes bore into mine. “It’s just a place, Sienna.
It’s not my home.”
“You should make it your home, then.” I sit on the bed and stare up at him.
“I don’t deserve to make this place my home,” he mumbles, his throat clenching with hurt.
The words tumble out of my mouth before I have a chance of stuffing them back in. “Did something happen to you, Kayden?” I say out of worry.
His eyes grow huge, like he’s on alert. Another scowl shoots up his face, dissolving any softness that was there before.
“Don’t. Don’t ask me questions like that again.”
He grips the door hard before closing it. Then he hesitates, muttering ever so softly, “Good night, Lucky.”
And then I’m left on my own.