59
Valentina
Do I have to get up? Maybe I can just stay in this bed all day; mind off, no thoughts, just relax.
I roll over and pull the soft sheet up under my chin, my body sinking into the mattress. Just a few more minutes won’t hurt.
Wait.
My eyes fly open.
My mattress is terrible, which means I’m not home.
I sit up and look around at my unfamiliar environment. Navy walls, beige sheets, and a photo of me and Will from when he moved into this apartment.
I’m in New York. In my brother’s small guest bedroom. God, how much did I drink to not remember I was here?
My phone lights up on the nightstand beside me with a random notification. But that notification highlights the messages from my friends. And the ones from Huxley as well.
I go through Birdie’s and Ava’s first, telling them that I arrived safely. Also, that I will definitely buy them something that says “New York “on it and is actually from New York.
With their messages dealt with, I’m left with Huxley’s.
The last thing I want to do is open them. I wanted to forget about him this week, but that seems like a far-fetched possibility.
My fingers hesitate, but finally press on his messages.
Huxley: Hey, Love. You did look tired before you left, so I hope you’re getting some sleep tonight.
Huxley: I wish I was there with you, though. Holding you. Kissing you.
Huxley: Since you aren’t messaging me back, I’m going to say that I miss you and I can’t wait for you to be home.
I drop the phone on my bed and shove my hands in my hair, pulling just enough to hurt. There are still texts from him from this morning, but I need coffee, or food, or a hammer to my head before I can read those.
My hands fall from my hair, and I see what I’m wearing. A random shirt and men’s pajama bottoms. Definitely not the clothes that I brought with me. I look up and see my suitcase sitting by the door, unopened.
Okay. Shower first. Then that list of things.
I take a quick shower and dress in my own clothes, all the while my mind is on Huxley.
My phone stares at me when I leave the bathroom, but I’m not ready for that.
I’m not ready to have to pretend with him that I’m okay.
That we’re okay. At least with texting, it’s easier to hide what I’m really feeling.
I leave my room and head to the kitchen. The scent of food hits me right before I see the table full of plates covered in varying breakfast options. My stomach growls at the sight.
“Fuck, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
Will and JJ turn to me. A smile spreads on Will's face as he gestures to the array of food. “Well, eat then. We have a big day planned for you.”
I eat more than I should, mainly because I don’t remember the last time I ate, but at least I feel a little better than I did this morning. Will and JJ start to gather plates, so I stand up with them.
“Let me help you,” I offer. Will immediately pulls my plate from my hand.
“Not a chance. You are a guest here.” I try to argue, but he points off toward the bedrooms, not having it. “Why don’t you go get yourself all prettied up so we can go sightseeing.”
A hit of pride touches my heart.
I love that he has this life with JJ, but even though I haven’t lived with him for years, I still feel the need to take care of him. But he doesn’t need that.
I roll my eyes, but can’t help the smile that spreads on my face. “Fine.”
When I get back to my room, I’m faced with my phone again, and my smile falls instantly.
I should ignore him. One day without texting isn’t bad, or obvious that something's wrong. Right?
A groan leaves me because that’s not true. Huxley and I haven’t gone a day without talking in I don’t know how long. Sure, I could use the excuse that I’m spending time with my brother, but I’ll have to talk to him eventually; might as well start now.
After a deep breath, I pick up the phone and click on Huxley’s messages again.
Huxley: Have a good day with your brother today, Love.
Huxley: And yes, it is 4 am. I didn’t realize how much I would worry about you not being a short drive away.
Huxley: I want you home.
Huxley: But I want you to have fun, also.
Huxley: But still, come home soon.
My eyes burn with tears, but I don’t want to cry anymore. I pull in another deep breath to will my tears away and type back a response.
Valentina: Wait for me to come home.
Lyrics from the song he sang to me a few months ago. Back when I thought he had learned the song because of me. Now I know it was because of the deal. Nothing more.
I drop my phone onto the bed and turn to get ready, but I don’t make it far when my phone goes off. My body surprises me as I run to my bed and grab my phone to see his reply.
Traitor.
Huxley: I’d rather hear you whisper that through the phone.
He remembered the song?
I honestly figured he pushed that out of his mind the second he was done playing it. But maybe he’s just bringing it up because I am. He remembered enough of it, so if I ever brought it up, he could pretend it meant something to him, too.
I groan, wanting to slam my head against the wall. Would I break the wall or my head open? Knowing me, I’d get a concussion and not be able to fly back at the end of the week.
Huh. That’s tempting.
I ignore the demon in my head and push aside my worries enough to call Huxley.
“Hi, Love,” he says after only one ring.
I nearly melt at his voice. “Hi.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually whisper.”
“I don’t want Will or JJ to hear me.”
“Smart.”
“So you couldn’t sleep?” I lie back on the mattress, completely ignoring the fact that I should be getting ready right now and not talking to Huxley.
“God, it was brutal,” he tells me with a deep sigh carrying his words. “All I could think about was you in a different city and me not being able to be there if you needed something. And I know you’re with your brother, but I just don’t like not having you close.”
Oh… “Wow,” I breathe out. I wasn’t expecting that.
“Yeah. I know.” There’s a bit of silence before he adds, “How did you sleep?”
He sounds nervous. But if he doesn’t care, why would he be nervous?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he does care. But how do I know for sure? I can’t exactly ask him if he cares because he’ll probably tell me a bullshit lie about how he does, or he’ll actually tell me the truth and say he only cares about our deal.
Instead of all that, I say, “I actually passed out in my brother's car last night on the way here.”
“Did you sleep on the plane?”
“No.” I was too busy crying over you. “I think the exhaustion hit me all at once when I landed.”
A beat of silence passes before he asks, “So what are you doing today?”
I sigh. “So far, all I know is sightseeing. But knowing my brother, there will be more than that.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Sounds like our first date.” I wince at my words. Shit, why did I say that? Reminiscing is the last thing I need to be doing.
Huxley laughs fondly. “Yeah. It kind of does.”
Memories from that night invade my mind, and I can’t stop myself from smiling. “I hope there’s no karaoke.”
“I hope your ice cream doesn’t get spilled,” he adds.
“I hope a woman doesn’t hold my hand and say ‘Strange.’”
Huxley chuckles, then drops his voice deeper and says, “I hope no one else touches you the way I did.”
I close my eyes and escape into the feel of his touch from that night. His hands on my legs, pulling me closer. The places I put his hands where I would allow him to touch. The thought of anyone else touching me like that makes my skin crawl.
“I hope that, too,” I whisper while still lost in that night.
“God, I miss you, Valentina.”
My chest warms but doesn’t completely thaw. “I miss you, too, Huxley Adams.”
“I guess I shouldn’t keep you from your brother anymore.”
“He told me to get prettied up so I can take as long as I want.”
“You don’t need long to look pretty,” he says in that deep voice that still does things to me even though it shouldn’t. “You’re always pretty.”
Is that the truth or a lie? I don’t know anymore.
“Wait for me to come home,” I whisper.
“You aren’t going to sing it to me?”
I pull in a deep breath. Will and JJ surely can’t hear me in here. But even if they can’t, I’m still taking a risk for a guy that doesn’t care.
“Wait for me to come home,” I sing.
“God, I love your voice.”
“It’s not as good as yours.”
“I still love it.”
“I love yours more.”
A longer silence plays between us. One that somehow feels comforting and suffocating at the same time.
“Send me a picture of you today, Love,” Huxley finally says.
A twinge of pain comes back to my chest. “I will.”
“Bye, Valentine.”
“Bye, baby,” I tease, pulling a groan from Huxley.
“I miss you.” His voice sounds so sincere. But then again, I thought he had been falling for me all these months, and it turns out he thought we were just friends.
I swallow back my tears. “I miss you, too.”
After saying our goodbyes, we hang up, and I drop my phone onto the bed.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” My hands pull through my hair again.
Even though I won’t see Huxley for this entire week, I still promised to send him photos of myself because he was on the verge of crying when he told me to text or call.
I wish I could just stay away from him completely so I can get my thoughts straight.
But ignoring him would make me a bitch, and I don’t want to be a bitch.
So I’ll send him a photo every day. But I have to figure this all out before I go home.
If not, I might go crazy. And I already do that enough as is.
I let out a deep sigh and push myself up. Day one in New York isn’t starting how I wanted, but I won’t let this set me back. Everything’s going to be okay.
It has to be.
It just has to be.