Chapter 11 A Very Confident Color
a very confident color
RILEY
“You know what the worst part is?” I straighten and wipe the sweat from my forehead. “My apartment smells like I tried to roast a tire in the fucking oven.”
The smell inside my apartment is acrid and inescapable.
Burnt plastic, scorched drywall, and an ugly chemical tang coats my nostrils, making it harder to breathe.
The air is thick, even with the windows open.
Already, the smoke has settled deep into the walls, into the furniture, even into my clothes.
In the midst of the chaos, I almost forgot to take my levothyroxine. The last thing I need after all this is to piss off my thyroid.
“Maybe it would’ve been better if your apartment had burned too. At least then, you’d get the insurance payout.” Nastya doesn’t look up from mopping the floor. “Instead, we’ve got pruned fingers from playing Cinderella.”
“That isn’t helpful at all.”
With a bark of a laugh, she looks up. “I’m staying true to myself.” She dunks the mop in the bucket then lifts it, squeezing out dirty water. “And you know nine times out of ten, I’m right.”
“But there’s still that one situation when you aren’t,” I tease her, and she flips me off. “Even if you don’t want to admit you can be wrong on occasion.”
“Nah, I have nothing against the truth.” She drags the mop across the floor.
“Maybe I can seem mean sometimes, but it’s not because I want to offend people.
I’d just prefer to be honest rather than falsely positive, and I refuse to lie to a person’s face just to make them feel better in the moment.
It’s probably a cultural thing. My friends and family are like that too.
It never bothers me because they have my best interests at heart, and I treat them the same way. ”
In school, some of our classmates were quick to call Nastya a stuck-up bitch because she never shied away from stating her opinion instead of sugarcoating the truth or telling straight-up lies.
“I’ve always admired how honest you are, and I know you have my back.” I wink at her. “Even though I don’t always want to listen to you.”
She points at me. “More often than I’d like, but we’re working on it.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Nose scrunched, she goes back to mopping. “The longer I’m here, the more it feels like the fire was in your apartment, not upstairs. The smell is outrageous.”
With a sigh, I sweep some soot off the shelf. “I was hoping for a couple of relaxing days. Instead, I got smoke and a smell that probably won’t go away for weeks.”
Nastya walks to the open window, leans over the window frame, and inhales. “God, I miss fresh air.”
I laugh, though I can’t say I feel any joy. Not only because of the fire, but because my damn thoughts have been spiraling nonstop since Friday night.
The damn smile Hayden gave that blonde.
Handling me like a child then almost calling me his best friend’s little sister.
Lips pursed, I scrub the shelf harder. The memories of that night resurface, and my blood boils. Admittedly, some of them are blurry, but the pain of finally admitting to myself that he’ll never see me as anything but Piper’s sister lingers in my heart.
But I can’t even be mad at him, not really.
He never gave me false hope. He never led me on.
My feelings are a hundred percent unrequited.
When he proposed his ridiculous plan, it really was because he needed a distraction from his grief.
Regardless of what I hoped for, there was no underlying motivation.
The knock on the door snaps me out of my doom spiral.
“I swear, if it’s that nosy old lady from 31B again…” Nastya hisses, marching across the room.
I pause my scrubbing, and when a familiar voice rumbles, “Hi there,” I’m ready to bolt.
Of course it’s Hade.
He’s standing in the hallway, wearing a black tee that makes him look too damn good, his expression frustratingly calm, like I didn’t ask him for space just yesterday.
Frowning, I cross my arms. “What are you doing here?”
Hands in his pockets, he steps inside. “Pip called. Said she’s been calling and texting but hasn’t heard from you. She’s worried.”
Shit. My phone must still be on Do Not Disturb.
I rub my temples. “We’ve been cleaning. Trying to get rid of this goddamn smell.”
“The whole building stinks.” He scans my face. “You okay?”
In response, I cough. The timing couldn’t be worse. “It’ll take a few days to get it all done, but I’m okay.”
“You know you can’t stay here, right?”
Brows pinched, I assess him. “Where else would I stay?”
“Breathing all this in can’t be healthy.”
Nastya watches me, chewing her cheek, the wheels turning in her head.
She’s going to side with him, isn’t she?
“Actually, I think Hade is right,” she says, confirming my suspicion. “All this soot in the air can’t be good for your lungs.”
“And where would I go?” I ask her.
“You can stay at my place,” Hayden says before my best friend can answer. “I have plenty of space.”
My heart lurches. Is he out of his mind? I can’t stay at his penthouse. I can’t be in such close proximity to him.
“Maybe I can stay at yours?” I peer at Nastya, silently begging her to agree.
“Sorry, Ry. My mom and Ksyusha will be here on Thursday.”
I blink. Shit. I knew her family was visiting. The lack of sleep and the stress of dealing with my ruined things are scrambling my brain.
“As much as I mean it when I tell you you’re always welcome, our place is already going to be crowded.” She smiles apologetically. “I think you should take him up on his offer.”
I give her an Are you for real? look, but she only arches an eyebrow, as if challenging me to argue. Instead, I huff and toss my rag onto the shelf. She’s backed me into a corner.
“You’d have your own room, and my place is closer to the studio. It’s a win all around,” Hayden chimes in. “And I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe and won’t be breathing in fumes and soot. I’m sure our family will feel the same.”
Our family. The phrase almost makes me gag. I don’t want him to be my family, not in the sense he’s implying.
Staying here will surely be bad for my health, but staying with Hayden will be bad for my heart. Maybe exposure therapy will do me some good. Maybe seeing him day after day, flaws and all, will help me let go.
I take a deep breath and instantly regret it. Now my lungs are full of soot and God knows what else.
With my face buried in the crook of my elbow, I cough. Then, straightening, I zero in on Hayden. “Okay. Thank you for offering.” I scan the dingy room. “I’ll find someone to come clean. That way, I won’t be abusing your hospitality for longer than a few days.”
“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need.” He gives me a cheeky smile. “Do you need my help with anything?”
“Could you take out the trash? Nastya can help me pack.”
“Okay.” He dips his chin. “I’ll wait in my car, give you some space. Call when you’re done packing, and I’ll help you bring your stuff down.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turns on his heel and walks out. When it’s just Nastya and me, I sag against the wall, my head hanging low.
“This will be a disaster,” I mutter.
She steps in front of me and puts her hand on my shoulder. “This is the best option for now. If you need to escape, you can hang out with my mom and sister and me.”
“You’re right.” I meet her eyes. “Just…it’s going to be hard to stay with him while I’m trying to get over my crush.”
“It’ll probably only take a couple of days once you’re there. I’d bet anything he leaves his dirty laundry on the floor and the toilet seat up.”
With a laugh, I shake my head. “I hope you’re right. My poor heart can’t keep taking hits when it comes to him.”
Rather than call Hayden, we bring my things down ourselves. When he sees us, he scowls and hops out of the driver’s seat. I ignore him, tossing my things into the back of his SUV and reminding myself I am in control of this situation, no matter how bizarre it seems.
Before I climb into his car, Nastya hugs me extra tight and tells me to call her when I need her, even if it’s just for a distraction.
And I’m sure as hell I’ll need it.
Stepping into Hade’s penthouse with my suitcase in tow feels weird. My mouth is dry, my hands clammy. I’ve been here dozens of times, yet it suddenly feels like unfamiliar territory. Hade’s presence only adds to my discomfort. After last Friday, I’m on edge just being around him.
“I’ll show you to your room.” He steals my duffel from me and strolls down the hallway.
I follow, willing my nerves to calm and my heartbeat to steady. It’s just Hayden, and I won’t be here for long. This is a temporary arrangement. I shouldn’t let myself get all worked up.
“Here you are.” He eases a door open and steps inside the guest room. His movements are a little disjointed, and if I’m not mistaken, his cheeks are slightly pink. He even fluffs a pillow nervously, like he’s uncomfortable too. “I hope you like it.”
It takes everything in me to plaster on a smile. “Thanks. It’s lovely.”
The crease between his eyebrows deepens. He opens his mouth and closes it again. Then, with a short nod, he heads out of the room. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”
Once the door is closed, I take in the room.
It is lovely: white walls, dark mahogany flooring, floor-to-ceiling windows.
The king-sized bed in the middle of the room is made up, with dark green throw pillows and a forest green duvet.
I can’t help but smile at the small walk-in closet.
My apartment isn’t much bigger than a closet itself.
There’s a huge mirror in the corner of the room, a desk by the window, and a TV on the wall.
As much as I want to avoid Hayden, I can’t help but be grateful for his kindness.
I put my clothes away, and as I’m hanging up a shirt, there’s a soft knock at the door.
“You good in there?” Hayden asks, his voice muffled.
“Yeah, still unpacking.”
The door cracks open, and he peeks in. His blond hair is messy, but in a way that only makes him more handsome.
His black tee has disappeared. Now, his muscular chest is bare, showing off his ink.
His dark gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, damn him.
He’s also barefoot, so his steps are quiet as he moves closer.
My heart has taken off at a gallop, and my brain has glitched. I’m transfixed, so much so that when he steps toward me, I don’t step back.
“I figured I’d help you put some stuff away.” He reaches for the last pile of clothes on the bed.
“Wait, I can…” The words die on my lips as he picks up a pile of folded sweatshirts, leaving the vibrant pink vibrator that was tucked underneath on full display.
Fuck me. I’d love for the floor to swallow me whole right about now.
Time slows. A moment of pure, painful silence follows. My cheeks flame. I bite my bottom lip, torn between bursting into tears and laughing it off.
Hayden clears his throat, attention flicking between me and the pink nightmare on the pristine bedspread. “Well, that’s…a very confident color.”
I slap my hands to my face. “Oh my God.”
How is it possible a few simple words can make the situation a thousand times worse?
“At least I don’t need to be worried you don’t have company. And that your company is a better conversationalist than I am.”
Hands dropped, I huff. “Please shut up.”
He laughs, the sound loud and rich. “Ry baby, no shame. If I had to deal with bad dates the way you have, I’d have a drawer full of those things too.”
Despite how mortified I am, a short burst of laughter escapes my mouth. “Glad to know you’re entertained.” I swipe the vibrator off the mattress and stuff it back into my duffel bag. Why did I even bring it in the first place? Gah, I’m an idiot!
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He puts my clothes back on the bed, his expression solemn before his lips tip up in a slow smirk. “I’ll let you get back to organizing your…collection.”
I pick up a throw pillow and smack the back of his head with it. “Get out.”
Grinning, he backs toward the door. “I’ll be in the living room. Come find me so we can order lunch.”
“Uh-huh.” My face is so damn hot. I can only imagine how red it is.
He’s almost out the door when he glances back at me. “And don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Get out!” I hiss.
As he throws his head back and roars with laughter, I stalk into the walk-in closet and close the door.
When the bedroom door clicks shut, I set the clothes on the shelf. Then, I lower myself to the floor. Legs pulled into my chest, I stare at the wall, mortified and amused in equal measure.
Of all the things for him to see, why did it have to be my vibrator?
Clearly, my bad luck extends past dating.