Chapter Twenty #2
Pushing the button, I lean heavily against the wall as I wait for the doors to open, the cool surface bleeding through my white cropped shirt in a way that is most welcome after spending hours upon hours sweating through two grueling sessions that I wish to never repeat.
I shut my eyes and drop my head against the bricks, crossing my arms over my chest as I fall victim to another jaw-popping yawn.
I’m pretty sure I fall asleep standing up, because when the elevator pings and the doors open, I startle and my eyes snap open only to reveal I’m no longer alone and have acquired a silent sentinel.
“Hey,” I greet the blue-eyed mystery beside me, stepping onto the elevator before him.
“Hey,” Rayne greets back, nodding his head toward me, his cap spun backward to reveal his glossy dark hair and pretty features.
He follows me, a vision in black, his shirt as loose on his toned frame as his jeans are, his black Vans a funny little contrast to mine.
“You good? You look like you’re about to collapse from exhaustion. ”
I snort, even though it’s not funny, because he’s so on the mark that it’s not even laughable.
I shouldn’t have driven home feeling as tired as I do, but there’s no way I was going to wait for an Uber or find a taxi.
My day started at four-thirty in the morning, and it’s only now ending at seven in the evening, with only short breaks sprinkled between demanding sessions that sucked the soul right out of me.
It was either drive home or sleep in the studio.
However, I don’t tell him that, opting not to bore the man. Instead, I tell the tatted god beside me, “I had a day plucked from hell, but otherwise, I feel like I could have a breakdance battle. How was your day?”
Rayne eyes me carefully, probably not believing a word I say.
Pretty hard to do when I’m slouched against the mirrored wall of the elevator, my eyes barely open as I peer over at him.
One glance at my reflection proves just how tired I look, and I make a note to run through every skin care routine I can think of before bed to rid myself of the dark circles now ringing my eyes.
“Just another day,” he answers, a sprinkle of concern filling that piercing gaze.
I only see it for a split second as I nod, my eyes slipping closed without my permission, and I hum under my breath as a garbled string of words slurs right from my mouth. “Sounds about right. Didn’t expect to learn anything. Cool beans.”
“What does that mean?” he wonders, without the usual standoffish attitude I’ve come to expect over the weeks of spending time with him. In fact, his voice almost sounds sweet, kind of caring. Or maybe it’s just my exhausted brain conjuring things that aren’t real.
I’ve noticed the only times he lets his guard down are if I surprise him with something I say, or if he’s talking to one of the guys, but even then he doesn’t seem to open up much.
I’m actually surprised he always comes to dinner, accepting every invite and joining us in whatever activity we do for the night.
It’s like he wants to be included, the fear of missing out compelling him to join, but doesn’t want to partake in small talk.
I’ve accepted it, for the most part, but there’s an infuriating need to learn the ins and outs of this man’s mind simply because he’s always hiding it from me.
Though, it’s not like I have a right to his thoughts and feelings and history. I’m only his neighbor, after all. If he wants to keep himself shrouded in shadows, hovering on the outside, then I’m not going to be the bug in his face pestering him to share.
Another ping makes me jump, and I realize once again that I’ve fallen asleep standing up, completely oblivious to anything and everything around me. Sure enough, I’m a little disoriented when Rayne wraps an arm around my back and takes my bags from my shoulder, hooking them over his own.
“What’s happening right now?” I garble, too tired to form the words properly and hoping he understands them.
He proves he’s an expert at speaking Tired Maddie, because the gorgeous guy snorts and mutters, “I’m taking you to your apartment so you can sleep. I genuinely don’t think you’d make it off the elevator without help.”
There’s no way I’m going to tell him he’s right. I probably would have slept the night away inside the elevator, used my purse as a pillow, and called it a night. There’s a fat chunk of appreciation growing in my chest, but I’ll have to thank him when I can stand upright without assistance.
For now, I decide to use him as the crutch he’s offering to be, leaning into his hold and breathing in the heady scent of ink and eucalyptus that I now recognize as Rayne.
I drop my head to his shoulder, my feet shuffling along as he guides me out of the elevator with all of the patience of a saint.
He doesn’t wait for me to offer my keys, sure I wouldn’t be able to utter a word, instead delving into my purse to retrieve them himself.
I’m pretty sure I fall asleep against him as he unlocks the door, because I vaguely feel myself drop and everything disappears from all around me. Sound, touch, smell, it’s as though it’s zapped from me and I pass the hell out.
The lights go out, and the last thought to cross my mind before I fall into oblivion is a light wondering whether or not I put my vibrator away after last night’s self-love session that was a bigger success than the last time I tried to have some one-on-one time with myself.
I guess I’ll find out when I wake next, right?