Chapter 19
SYLAS
I’m going through gum faster than I’ve ever gone through anything in my life. Every time I think of reaching for a cigarette, I grab a stick or cube of gum.
I bought a variety because some aren’t as good as they’re advertised, and some, while good, don’t last in flavor. And sometimes, depending on the day or what my father says, I’ll need something strong. Unfortunately, gum isn’t known for being strong in nerve-shattering abilities.
I miss my cigarettes. The stupid withdrawal is giving me horrible headaches, and everything annoys the shit out of me.
Popping in a minty cube, I push the button on my lighter down and keep my eyes trained on the elevator.
I had practice with my father early this morning, followed by drills with the guys, and then met my father again to review film.
He was his usual asshole self, but something was different.
I waited for him to talk about Anna, expected it to happen—mentally prepared myself, even—but the questions never came.
It’s strange, but it’s the least of my problems. My shoulder started acting up.
I couldn’t think of anything but making sure I didn’t strain it and prayed it didn’t pop out of place again.
I chew fast, my jaw becoming sore, but I don’t let up nor do I stop playing with the lighter.
Knowing Anna is coming today is the only thing keeping me from going mental. She somehow helps slow my quick-paced thoughts. I don’t know what it is about being with her, but she makes me feel at ease.
So much so that when I hear the elevator door ping, I stop playing with the lighter, my jaw relaxes, and my chewing is steady.
She strolls out of the elevator with a cart full of cleaning supplies by herself.
Anna’s got her earbuds in so she doesn’t notice me at first, head bobbing to the Christmas song playing. It’s loud, and I make out Mariah Carey’s distinct voice.
I wave my hand, loudly calling her name, but she’s oblivious, head still bobbing, two buns on her head moving as she sings along.
When she finally turns around, she gasps and drops a bright yellow rag on the floor.
“What the hell, Sylas?” she squeaks, removing her earbuds.
I snicker, sauntering over to her, and pick up the rag. “I tried to get your attention.”
She peers up at me, a deep frown on her face. “By standing there like a creep? You could’ve come up to me.”
I shrug, shaking the rag for her to take, but she doesn’t. “Not a creep. It’s my home. I can stand wherever I want, and I didn’t want to get in your way.”
“So, what? You’re saying it’s my fault?”
“Yeah, you being easily spooked is your fault. But if I apologize, will you stop being mad at me?” I smile at her but then can’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Her hardened expression softens, and she chuckles a little.
“This feels like déjà vu…”
She has this faraway look on her face, but a second later, it dawns on her. “A creep then, a creep now. Some things don’t change.”
I’m taken aback and tighten my hold on the rag as she tries to yank it free.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t notice me both times.
It’s important to be aware of your surroundings.
” I blatantly let my eyes drift down her body.
She’s wearing her cleaning service outfit, a black collared shirt with Elite Housekeeping sewn in gold thread on the top right of her breast, and black joggers.
“And I’m not sorry for checking you out.
” I wasn’t actually; I was too busy feeling relieved that she’s here.
“I’ve seen you naked and you’re really pretty, so sue me. ”
Her chest expands, a small divot nestles between her brows, and the apples of her cheeks flush. She glances at her cart, brushing her bangs away from her forehead, but they fall back to where they were originally.
I smirk then blow a bubble.
“How’s the gum?” she asks, eyes on my mouth.
I blow another bubble, tugging the rag so she steps closer to me. “It’s…minty.”
“You hate it, don’t you?” She asks, amused, letting me pull until the front of her shoes hit mine and our fingers brush.
“It’s…growing on me…” I blow another one, but she pops it this time. I stick my tongue out to clean it off my lips, and her eyes follow the movement.
“I can tell.” With her free hand, reaches up to my face, but she doesn’t touch me. “You have—”
“Go ahead.” I lean down, holding my breath when her cold finger brushes the corner of my mouth to remove the remnants of the gum I didn’t get. She rubs firmly but slowly, and despite her skin freezing, it sears me.
My heart skips a beat, my jaw aches, and I notice how hard I’m clenching my teeth. I swallow and chew, realizing I had stopped doing that.
“Got it.” She removes the rag from my hand, wipes her finger on it, and takes a few steps back.
“Thanks. Best girlfriend ever.” I wink at her.
She blushes. “You make a corny boyfriend.”
“Isn’t that the whole point?”
“I don’t know, I guess.” She shrugs, gaze sweeping over me in a thoughtful way.
“What?” I watch her the same way she’s looking at me.
It’s beyond me how good this—we work. How we make sense and everything feels steady when I’m around her. It’s also pretty crazy how much I like being around her and how I look forward to this—her.
Is this what a crush does to you? Makes your heart palpitate out of control, hands clammy, thoughts racing—not in an anxious kind of way but in a way you want to talk about everything and anything and you’re not sure where to start?
Then there’s looking forward to the small things, like hoping her eyes are always on me, wanting to touch her because I just need to feel her skin. Seeing red tint her cheeks and knowing I’m the reason for it.
But is this considered a crush? Is this not too soon? Is this sane? Am I sane?
Should I consult my therapist for this? I haven’t spoken to him in a while; surely, he’ll know what’s going on, right?
Her lips tug into a pretty smile. “For never being a boyfriend, you’re good at this. You were phenomenal yesterday. If hockey doesn’t work out, you should consider acting.”
I’m not sure how much my parents are sold on this, but Thea said she’d have believed it, if she didn’t already know it was fake. Mom didn’t ask questions, only texted me and said it’s a pity it didn’t work with Florence, but she’s willing to give Anna a chance.
She’s taking this better than I expected. But I’m not naive to believe she’s suddenly changed. Something’s different, I just don’t know what.
And going into acting? Mom would love that since she’s a director and her side of the family is all part of that industry.
I grin and lift my shoulder in an absent shrug. “It’s hard to fake something that feels natural. I just…I don’t know…did what felt right. Hard to explain but—”
“No, I get it. It felt—feels…good. We did good. If you ever need a girlfriend, you can hit me up.” She makes a phone sign with her hand, placing it by her ear. “Call me, beep me, if ya wanna reach me,” she singsongs.
I chuckle. “Where’s that from?”
She stares at me, bewildered. “Do you not know who the Kim Possible is?”
I ponder it, but nothing comes to mind. “No? Am I supposed to?”
“Oh God, I’m breaking up with you.” She looks so offended it’s cute.
“You can’t. Not until the end of the semester. Until then, you’re stuck with me, meu bem.” I wonder what her being stuck with me this semester will look like?
Her eyes level with mine, and for a second, I wonder…is she thinking it too?
“Well then, as my boyfriend”—yeah, I like the sound of that—“you’ll have to watch it with me. No ifs, ands, or buts. Got it? Good talk. I need to clean.”
Anna tries to walk around me, but I grab her forearm and stop her, but then I drop it, realizing it’s the arm she got the tattoo on. “How’s your arm?”
“Sore. I still can’t believe we did that.”
I glance at my covered arm then back at her. “Believe it because we did and it’ll be on you forever.”
“I’m just glad it’s cute and not something ugly or ridiculous like a jellyfish.”
“Hey.” I feign offense. “They happen to be really fucking cute.”
She laughs and I do too. “Yeah, I guess they are.” She holds my stare and suddenly everything is white noise and nothing matters. It’s just her and me. This feels good. “I really need to clean now.”
“I already did it.”
“What?” She’s staring at me, unblinking and shocked. “You did what?”
“I cleaned. You’re my girlfriend,” I start. “It doesn’t feel right that you’re cleaning my place and—”
“I’m not really your girlfriend, and I get paid to do this, Sylas.”
There’s an ugly dip in my stomach. “I know we’re not real, but it still doesn’t feel right. So don’t worry about it. Although it definitely doesn’t look anywhere as good as you do, but it’s clean and that’s good enough for me.”
She still looks stunned but recovers. “I really need this job. If I’m not cleaning and Michael finds out, I’ll get fired.”
“Then don’t tell him. I won’t. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Your parents pay him to pay me. This doesn’t—”
“Money is the least of my parents’ worries.” I realize how pompous that sounds, but it’s the truth. There’s no point in downplaying it. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to tell them. Either way, this is my home. What I decide to do with it is on me.”
She looks uncertain.
“I swear, the last thing I want to do is get you in trouble.”
Anna’s still quiet, so without thinking I grab her hand in mine like I did yesterday. She doesn’t jerk it away, so I think that’s a good sign.
“Let’s pretend.”
“Hmm?”
I rub circles on her now warm hand. “This…us. Let’s pretend it’s real.
That we are in a relationship and because we are in one that means we need to have trust. So trust me.
No one has to know what we do.” I inch closer, tucking the long piece of her bang behind her ear.
“Either way, everyone already thinks we’re in one. So let’s pretend we are.”
“Sy—Sylas,” she stammers, smiling disbelievingly.
“I know it sounds crazy, but just think about it. We can make it work.”
Anna mulls it over, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. “I don’t know…do you think we can really play pretend? What if you get tired of me? Or what if I get tired of you? Or what if—”
“What if this all works out? It’s just pretend, and once the semester is over, we’ll mutually split. Come on, Anna, let’s pretend.”
“I-I really don’t know…” She clicks her tongue.
“Let’s do a little trial.”
She chuckles. “A trial?”
“A Christmas trial. We’ll see how things play out this month. If everything works out, we keep it up, and if things don’t, then we don’t.” It sounds really stupid when I think about it, but what’s the worst that’s going to happen? I’ll fall in love?
No, that’d be too soon. I don’t understand a crush, so how would I understand what love is?
She tips her head back, a full laugh expelling from her mouth. I can’t help but take her in and appreciate how fucking beautiful she is.
“You’d really be exclusive to me for the rest of the semester? No having sex with other girls? No flirting? No nothing? Because if you still want to, we can fake it in front of your parents, but—”
“No. None of that. I swear.” I earnestly reply, hoping she believes me because I’d never do anything to break her trust or hurt her.
She studies it and exhales a deep sigh. “Sy—ahhh…fuck it. Okay. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s the spirit.” I’m fucking beaming. I’ve never been this elated in December. “I’m not trying to be a control freak, but I don’t want you to be—”
She scowls. “I’m your girlfriend. I only want you.”
Anna only wants me. God, I’m so obsessed with the sound of that.
My heart races. “Right, yeah. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”
She’s grinning now. “We are. You really don’t want me to clean?”
I look over my shoulder. “Nah.” Then I peer down at her.
“So…now what?”
“Do you know how to skate?”