4. Kaycia
Chapter 4
Kaycia
T hank all the gods that I have the heat of my apartment as an excuse because I think my cheeks are still burning from walking in on Shane in a towel. I knew he would have a nice body. He’s tall and lean and his face alone is chiseled, so it shouldn’t have surprised me to find that the rest of him is similarly sculpted, right down to the vee at his hips. But seeing him still glistening from a shower with his blond hair damp and hanging tousled across his forehead made me itch for a paintbrush or sketch pad. Or the knot of his towel.
I’m still thinking about it, staring at his back in his slim-fitting black tee as he inspects my thermostat. It was cute listening to him ask about my art, but he clammed up after his comment about missing things, piquing my curiosity. He’s remained silent ever since, fiddling with the thermostat and whatever is in the closet next to it.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask, pulling my bottle of wine from the fridge. It’s all I can do to not press the chilled glass against me, but I’m extremely aware of the fact that I’m not wearing anything under my overalls now that I have Shane alone in my apartment.
“No, thanks. I think that should fix it. I heard it kick back on. It was the condensation line, but the backup should be cleared now.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket and scans it before tucking it away again. “Like I said, I’ve got some friends coming over…”
“Oh. Okay.” I hope the disappointment doesn’t bleed into my voice too pathetically. I’m an independent woman living on my own terms. I shouldn’t be so downcast because someone else has plans and I can’t seem to put myself out there to make my own. “Thanks for the help. I guess I can get back to work.”
I put the bottle back in the fridge as my own phone starts buzzing. I silence the call, not remotely in the mood to hear from my mother right now.
“You could come over if you want. Let the apartment cool off for a bit. You can bring your wine,” Shane offers with a nod at my heavy pour.
“Are you sure I won’t be imposing? I’m not crashing a date or anything, right?”
That was nonchalant, Kaycia, not at all prying into his relationship status.
“Definitely not. Raquel is bringing her partner Jamila, and unless something has changed dramatically between Max and me without my knowledge, we are firmly in the friend category.” He crosses his arms across his chest and gives a sideways smile from where he leans against the wall. “I admit he’s good-looking enough, but not really my type.”
“Oh, and what’s your ty—” My phone buzzes again, cutting me off mid-quip. I sigh with resignation. “Sorry, let me get this real quick or she will never give me peace tonight.”
Shane nods as I answer the phone, hazel eyes surveying the apartment as I pace clutching my wine glass. Clearly, he’s planning to wait for me to answer his invitation. My skin tingles when I catch him watching me, and my breath hitches when his eyes flick toward my bed then back to my face. Clicking the answer key, I squeak higher than I expected, “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
Shane’s breathy chuckle, quickly covered by a cough and cleared throat, has my cheeks heating. I force a couple deep breaths while my mom prattles away. “Why didn’t you answer earlier, Kay? You haven’t called. Are you alright?” she questions in rapid succession. Always assuming the worst.
“Sorry, Mom. I was busy. My neighbor is here fixing my air conditioner. I’m trying to finish some work and need to get changed to hang out with friends.” I smile over my shoulder at Shane as I say the words. She doesn’t need to know that they aren’t my friends. His eyes crinkle on the edges as he breathes a little laugh.
“Isn’t your neighbor a guy? Are you sure it's safe for him to be in your apartment? Don’t you have maintenance for that? Are you meeting these people in public? You know you’re not equipped to handle yourself in that city. Take your pepper spray.” She rattles off before adding, “I didn’t know you’d gotten a job, what work are you doing?”
Gritting my teeth to keep from being a total bitch in front of Shane, I struggle to keep my frustration leashed. “Mom, can you please calm down? Yes, my neighbor is a guy, and he’s very nice. I’m a grown woman. I know how to be safe. And I was painting, my art is my job. I’m prepping for an exhibition at the gallery I told you about.”
Angry tears prick behind my eyes as I explain for the millionth time that my choices are valid and quietly beg for respect from my family. The ones who should be thrilled for me and shouting from the rooftops instead of tearing me down and making me question my every move. My civility wears thin as I clench my jaw and add, “Sorry, this just isn’t a great time. I have to go unless there’s something you need.”
“I don’t know why I have to call you twenty times to get you to check in with your family, Kaycia. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” My mom is a queen at making me seem like the bad guy when all I’m trying to do is set boundaries and live my life.
“I’m doing fine. I’ll keep you updated, Mom. I gotta go. Tell Dad hi.” Dropping my phone into the chest pocket of my overalls, I turn my back to Shane and take a long sip of my wine, swallowing it along with my ugly emotions, while I try to school my face into something other than the mashup of negativity I’m feeling.
“Hey, you okay?”
With a yelp, I grip my wine glass, barely keeping it from spilling. In the last few breaths, Shane has moved to stand behind without making a sound.
“Sneaky thing,” I mutter under my breath as I face him, earning a surprised laugh. His gaze is intent and searching as I sniffle, then erase my frustration with a shrug. “Yeah, I’m fine. Things with my family have been a little… strained since I moved. But that’s not your problem. Are you sure it’s okay if I come over?” I force myself to smile.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you there.” His tone is gentle, matching the soft expression in his eyes as they dip to my lips.
Relieved, I reply, “Okay. Give me ten minutes or so to change and I’ll be over?”
Shane runs his eyes over my overalls, reminding me once again that I didn’t put a shirt on underneath. A look suspiciously like disappointment clouds his face momentarily before he clears his throat. “Sounds good. You can let yourself in. I promise I’ll be wearing clothes this time.” With a chuckle and wink, he lets himself out the front door while I blush like an idiot.