Chapter 26 Lex
Lex
“Lex!”
Stevie’s voice reverberates through three thousand square feet of useless space, yanking me off the bed as I’m groggily scrolling through my social apps, barely awake.
Fear. Her tone is pitched with fear.
I sprint down the hallway in my sweatpants toward the bathroom, sans a T-shirt, because of course I’m half-naked.
My heart skips. I immediately think it’s her knee.
Her leg injury. Something happened, she slipped in the shower, and I’m about to be wading in chest-deep guilt for the foreseeable future because her knee would be fucking fine if I hadn’t decided that driving through a blizzard was the perfect time to take a nap.
But when I shove through the bathroom door and skid to a stop, I’m not chest-deep in guilt.
I’m ankle-deep.
In water.
“What the fuck?”
I find her hopping around a growing puddle, wearing nothing but a tank top and baby-blue underwear, eyes popped with panic, clutching a wrench in one hand and a soaked-through bath towel in the other.
The marble floors are slick, water spraying out from an exposed industrial-style pipe, drenching everything.
“I tried to fix it,” she exclaims, dropping the wrench with a clatter. “I found a wrench in your junk drawer. There was a small leak, and my dad’s a plumber, so I thought I could just tighten it, but—”
“Fuck my life.” Groaning, I kneel beside the chrome-plated pipe, water gushing from a point where the fitting connects to the wall.
The pipe itself isn’t old—it’s modern, high-end, the kind you’d expect in a place like this.
But the pressure must have built up after she tightened it too much, causing the fitting to crack under the strain.
Stevie drops beside me, but I shoo her away. “I got it.”
“Let me help.” She grabs the fallen wrench.
“I said I got—” I hold an arm out, but she’s already leaning over me, trying to tighten the fitting even more. The wrench slips in her wet hand, and instead of slowing the leak, the pipe jerks sideways with a metallic creak.
The crack widens.
A jet of water shoots out with renewed force, hitting the ceiling before raining down on us. The bathroom transforms into a mini waterfall, soaking us both instantly.
I growl over the roar of the water, shielding my face as the spray intensifies.
“Ack! I’m sorry! I thought—I just wanted to—” Stammering, she frantically tries to push the pipe back into place, but it only makes it worse. The fitting completely snaps off the wall, sending a torrent of water gushing into the room like someone opened a fucking fire hydrant.
“Stop touching it!” We’re both drenched, the water swirling around the bathroom in a chaotic flood and spilling out into the hallway.
She’s ghost white, her hair striped across her face in waterlogged tangles. She reaches for the pipe again. “What do we do?”
“Step. Away. From the pipe!”
“Not helpful!” At last, she discards the wrench. “Why are you yelling?”
“Because I can’t fucking hear anything over the monsoon in my bathroom!” Gritting my teeth, I pivot around, teetering on the wet floor. “I need to shut off the main valve.”
I make a beeline for the utility closet, yanking open the panel door and fumbling with the main valve until I manage to turn it off.
When I return two minutes later, the water has stopped its relentless assault, leaving us in a wash of deafening silence, broken only by the sound of dripping water and heavy breathing.
My head slowly rolls in her direction as I stand there in my soggy sweatpants and a scowl. We glare hotly at each other before she moves to leave the bathroom in a cloud of scorn.
She doesn’t get far.
In a blink, her knee twists, and her feet start sliding everywhere as her balance goes to shit. I instinctively jerk forward to prevent her teeth from becoming a part of the marble finish, but when Stevie latches on to my shoulders for leverage, she yanks me too hard, and we’re fucked.
We both go down.
“Ow!”
“Fuck!” I collapse on top of her, our chins knocking together as I barely catch myself from crushing her to death.
Stevie winces, sprawled out underneath me, chest heaving.
I lift up on my forearms.
Our eyes meet, my bare chest plastered against her soaked-through top.
No bra. No pants either. My traitorous gaze dips for a half a second, taking in her dark nipples on full display beneath the wet fabric that clings to her like a second skin.
Her naked legs are spread wide, my lower half anchored between them, and I force my rage to overpower the pulse of heat that zaps through me and charges south.
“You’re terrible at staying on your feet. ”
“Ugh.”
“But you’re ten times worse at plumbing.”
Her cheeks flush pink, skin puckered in goose bumps. “Get off me.”
We stare heatedly at each other for another heartbeat before I come to my senses and launch myself off her, slapping wet bangs out of my eyes. “I’ll call someone to deal with this.”
“Great.”
“Please leave the wrench alone.” Shaking my head, I carefully stalk out of the bathroom, water splashing underneath my feet.
Stevie mutters an insult under her breath when I’m barely out of earshot.
“I can hear you, you know,” I call over my shoulder.
A whoosh of pale skin and wet hair races past me as she hectically wraps a towel around her shivering body. “Then stop listening.”
“I have ears. Do you want me to apologize for having ears?”
She disappears into her bedroom. “Yes!”
“Fine! Sorry for the fucking ears attached to my head,” I shout back. “Jesus, Stevie.”
The door slams shut.
We’re on day three of these new living arrangements, and up until now, things have been uneventful.
We made one public appearance at a local restaurant for lunch, allowing the paparazzi to capture a few photos of us eating out on the terrace.
Otherwise, Stevie has kept to herself, spending most of her time alone in her bedroom while I tackle errands and avoid Rudy’s incessant harassment about whether Stevie and I have consummated our eternal love yet.
I send Rudy a quick text, filling him in on the new water feature in my bathroom, and he shows up with deli sandwiches from the farmers market an hour later.
The cleanup crew and plumber are already here, dealing with the mess upstairs, as my insufferable agent barrels through the front door and tosses a plastic bag at me. “Did you two crazy kids fuck in the shower and burst a pipe?”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Why?”
“Why not? You have a hot chick living with you. The math is mathing.”
“No. Why are you the person you are?”
He ignores me, strolling over to one of the kitchen barstools and plopping down, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a bite. “Honestly, Stevie is great,” he says through a muffled chew.
“She’s a huge pain in the ass and is making my life hell.”
“I said great.”
I flip him off. “Try living with her.” When his eyes twinkle with consideration, I backpedal. “Delete that.”
“Listen, you’ve been a thousand times more obnoxious since she came into the picture, and I appreciate that. Way more fun for me.”
“Sorry my usual brand of emotional detachment is such a bore.”
“Apology accepted. You’re making progress, Lex, and that’s inspiring.”
“Remind me why I hired you.”
“Really? I will, but you know I’m an overachiever.”
Sighing wearily, I make my way over to the island and pull out a barstool, two seats away. I send Stevie a quick text that there’s food.
Me: Food.
“So, the bathroom,” Rudy prompts, flicking crumbs off his designer blue jeans. “What actually happened?”
My eyes close, and I briefly recall the moment when we were entangled on the wet floor, her breasts visible through the thin material of her top and my mind going to a place it hadn’t dared travel in a long damn time. “Stevie doesn’t know how to use a wrench.”
He frowns. “I’m assuming there’s no underlying sexual meaning there.”
“No.”
His nose wrinkles with disappointment.
Stevie appears at the base of the staircase, newly dressed in a black lacy thing, her dark hair air-dried and spilling over her shoulders in chaotic waves. She sends a timid smile to Rudy. “Hey.”
“Hey, gorgeous. I brought you a sandwich.”
Her smile widens with a slight beam as she makes her way over to us, avoiding my eyes. She ruffles around the bag for the extra sandwich that’s wrapped in paper and leaking with vinegar. “Thank you. This is really sweet.”
She’s about to retreat back upstairs with her meal, but I stop her, a sudden pang of guilt pinching in my gut. “You can eat in here.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.”
“This is your house too.” I eye her as she rubs her lips together, indecisiveness brightening her cheeks in rosy patches.
She considers the offer, blinks, then shakes her head. “I’m okay. Thank you though.”
Stevie scampers away, and not a moment later, Rudy slugs my bicep hard.
“What the hell?” I groan, rubbing away the ache.
“You’ve literally petrified the poor girl.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Are you two fighting like a married couple already? Jesus, Lex, it’s only been a few days. You have that photo shoot with her tomorrow.”
“I’m aware.” I slouch in the barstool, slamming my elbows to the counter and raking my hands through my hair. “I’m not used to having a roommate. I have no idea what to do with her.” Instantly, I know what he’s about to say, so I cut him off. “Not that.”
“I didn’t say it.” Rudy drops his sandwich, swiping his greasy hands on a napkin. “Go apologize for whatever it is you didn’t do. We don’t want the bad kind of tension clouding your intimate shoot tomorrow.”
Not that I appreciate his insight, but he’s probably right. Blowing out a breath, I concede, pulling up off the stool and walking upstairs. I knock on her door, clueless as to what I’m supposed to say. “Hey. It’s me.”
Footfalls echo on the other side before she cracks it open. “Hey.”
“Can I come in?”
She studies me for a moment, then widens the door. “Sure.”
Her spread of food is sprawled out on the sterile covers, only one bite taken.
Slate-gray sheets are far from a color pop in the otherwise white-on-white room, and the notion gnaws at me.
This isn’t her. She lived her life in Technicolor—vibrant posters, flickering candles, color-coordinated book spines, and brightly painted walls. She looks misplaced in this room.
I saunter inside, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, sorry about before. I didn’t mean to lose my shit on you.”
A tiny shrug. “Sorry for breaking your bathroom.”
“I did say you could break whatever you wanted.”
She falters, then ducks her chin with a light laugh. “That is true.”
Silence settles in.
I’m terrible at this.
But Rudy has a point—we don’t want there to be friction tomorrow. And even though I know my acting abilities will pull through, our relationship has always been more than a script.
My hands slide into my pockets as I lean back against the far wall. “So we have that shoot tomorrow with Billy Ellison. Luda has you scheduled for hair and makeup at noon.”
She nods, chewing on her cheek. “Okay. That’ll be fun.”
“I don’t want there to be…” I flick a finger between us. “You know. Discord or whatever.”
“I can handle it.”
“Okay. Good.”
More silence.
I guess that’s that.
Clearing my throat, I pull up from the wall. “Well, enjoy your food.”
She stops me when I turn to leave. “Lex.”
“Yeah?” I glance at her as she picks at the fringing of her dress.
“I really am sorry about your bathroom. Whatever it costs to fix, take the money out of my first week.” A flicker of shame crosses over her face. “Please.”
My brows bend. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Falling on the sword. Every damn time.”
Heaviness swells between us, a mountain of it. Her eyes film over, and I don’t want to think about where she just went. Back to that night: bloodstained snow, shattered glass, twisted metal, and me, draped over her broken body, promising her she’d be okay.
I blink away the images, telling my old ghosts to fuck off.
Stevie breaks through the tension. “I mean, it was my fault you were driving my car in the first place.”
“I fell asleep behind the wheel.”
“I screwed up the interview with Starline.”
“I dragged you out here.”
“And your bathroom?”
I go to speak, but I’ve got nothing. A small smile twitches on my mouth. “It was due for a cleaning.”
She softens, the shadows in her eyes lifting.
Before I turn to leave, I add, “Come downstairs and eat.”
Back at the island, I’m still holding on to the barest smile.
And it only grows wings when I hear her footsteps padding down the staircase.