Chapter 18 Hazel
Hazel
Something sweet lured me out of my sleep. My room was dark; only the faint, thin lines of sunlight peeping through the blinds lit whatever room I was in. It took a second or two for me to remember where I was, and then last night came flooding back to me all at once.
I rolled onto my back, rubbing my eyes, and filled my lungs. Cinnamon and butter invaded my nose in the most comforting way, and I wanted to wrap myself up in it.
Turning over onto my side, I reached for my phone. A dozen unread message notifications from Skylar and Genesis were displayed on my screen before I unlocked it. But the most alarming number was the time.
Holy shit. I just slept for ten hours? Ten!
Oddly enough, my head didn’t hurt as I’d expected it to after crying so much. I felt … wonderful actually. But who wouldn’t after ten hours of uninterrupted sleep on a queen-size cloud?
I sat up and turned on the light, putting on my glasses and hearing aid that were waiting for me on my nightstand. My hands worked through the knots in my hair, and I ran my fingers through until it was smooth, feeling anxious about walking downstairs.
Last night, I had been brave. But that had also been inspired by desperation and a long day. Today was different. New. A new living situation, a new job—if that was what you wanted to call it—and a new roommate. Sweets, of course.
The moment I had walked through Milton’s front door, he had proven to be a better one than Lucifer ever had been. I wasn’t allergic to Sweets, which gave him the upper hand, but his excitement and kisses easily topped that bonus.
Standing, I did my best to fix my wrinkled T-shirt into a respectable shape over my frame and failed. It’d been twisted and stretched sometime in my sleep. Oh well.
It is what it is, I told myself.
Looking for a mirror, I noticed the room was vacant of most furnishings and decor, besides the bed and nightstand.
Though I was impressed, with it being a bachelor’s house, there were still all the necessary bedding.
Sheets, a thin knitted blanket, with a duvet and a duvet cover, and four pillows neatly tucked up at the headboard.
From the brief tour I had gotten of the main level downstairs, I’d gathered he hadn’t been here long enough to make it his own yet.
The place was wonderful though. Large and open, but not too big.
I was excited to see it in the daylight.
But there was something about daylight that brought clarity, and I fidgeted, anxious about walking downstairs and seeing Milton in this new light.
He wasn’t just my rescuer; he was my … employer.
And I felt like I had nothing to offer him for his generosity.
I contemplated changing out of what I had worn to bed, but the smell of coffee suddenly mixed with the sweetness already in the air, and my priority became finding my way to its source before all else.
The hallway was blindingly bright as I stepped out of my room.
I took a moment to allow my eyes to adjust before I continued, walking by a spare bathroom, an open room with an easel and art supplies in the center of it—that piqued my interest—and then a closed door on the end, just before the staircase.
A tarp lay out at the landing in the entryway, and I figured Milton was planning on painting the walls.
Some color in here would do that place wonders, but I found it odd he’d be doing it so close to leaving on tour.
Then again, someone with a busy schedule like his probably hired people to do those kinds of things.
The heavenly smell grew stronger as I made my way into the empty kitchen. Sweets popped his head up from his spot on the couch in the living room and came running, asking for belly rubs as he rolled over at my feet.
I giggled at his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and the tail wags that made his whole body wiggle.
My eyes were still looking down at him as I stood, so I didn’t see Milton standing directly in front of me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I finally lifted my gaze, coming eye level with his broad, naked chest.
My heart raced, and I hunched forward, reaching for his arm to brace myself.
The nervous laugh escaping me was cut short when I noticed my new angle brought me even closer to the hard ridges of his stomach.
My lips parted, and the hand wrapped around his thick forearm tightened as I stood there, frozen, eyes fixed on the taut, tattooed abs on display.
Jesus.
I knew I’d seen him shirtless standing onstage, but the lighting in here gave me a high-definition version of it, and I was nearly salivating.
There was movement from his mouth out of my peripheral vision, so I reluctantly tore my eyes away and shamefully righted myself.
The look he was giving me made my cheeks warm, and I pulled my brows up innocently.
“Hungry?” He didn’t wait for my answer as he walked to the covered pan on the counter, then turned to me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll have to find a better way to … I don’t know …” He shook his head. “Not do that.”
Reaching for the light switch on the wall, I flicked it on and off a few times, showing him a method my dad and grandma used to get my attention when I was younger.
“Oh!” He lifted his chin. “That’s smart. I like that.”
I shrugged and joined him at the counter.
He removed the lid, nudging my shoulder. “One? Or two?”
My eyes rounded, shifting from the pan to him and back down again. They were the softest-looking cinnamon rolls I’d ever seen, but also the size of my freaking face.
Milton grinned as I held up one finger. “Yeah, I might’ve proofed them too long. Whoops.”
I took out my phone and sent him a text.
Me: Quite the baker. I’m impressed.
Milton plated one of his gooey masterpieces and slid it over to me, then lowered his head to read his phone.
“Oh, just wait until you try my risotto,” he stated proudly.
I swiped my tongue along my lower lip as I watched him lick some of the excess icing off his finger.
“I’ve been trying to teach myself how to cook since I got this place,” he continued.
“The four of us used to live together and shared the responsibility of cooking, which mainly consisted of ordering pizza or takeout, but still. I’ve never been very good at cooking, but I like the challenge of learning something new, and I figured what better time than when I have my own kitchen, you know?
Plus, I’m alone a lot more now. I have more time.
” There was a glimmer of sadness in his eyes when he said that. I almost didn’t see it.
I texted a reply, teasing him and hoping it would return his smile.
Me: Time between headlining at music festivals and a European tour? Do you have more hours in the day than the rest of us mere mortals?
He snorted, his cheery demeanor returning. “I like it when you’re sassy. It’s cute,” he told me, scrunching his nose. “I also like that shirt on you, by the way. Looks far better on you than it ever did on me.”
I’d seen the photographs to know that was a lie, but I didn’t anticipate returning it to him regardless.
He leaned in and winked at me. “I’m glad it was donated to a good cause.”
I took a massive bite of my breakfast, hoping it would hide the giant grin he’d just put on my face.
“Your room okay?” Milton asked, resting his elbows on the counter. The stance made his biceps appear even larger and more incredible. “I’m still working on filling this place. It’s a lot more space than I’m used to having all to myself, but I can order you anything you need.”
My room. That felt odd to say so soon. But it was also nice. I sucked at my fingertips to clean them off and noticed him watching me now, but with more intensity than I was used to from him.
Once my fingers were clean, I quickly replied.
Me: The room is perfect. Thank you! I haven’t had that good of sleep in months!
“Good,” he said, eyes still lingering on my mouth.
A swirl of butterflies took flight in my stomach.
The way he looked at me, arms crossed in front of his bare, chiseled chest, lit a fire in me I desperately wanted to feed.
But that fire also burned with guilt. The same guilt I’d felt after our kiss.
It was wrong to feel this way for someone so soon. Wasn’t it?
I cursed to myself at how conflicted I was on simply flirting with the man.
Milton pulled away and stood up straight, tapping his fingers to a brief made-up beat. “I’m going to head to the gym for a little bit. Need anything while I’m out?”
Giving my head a shake, I watched as he gave Sweets some love before he left out the front door with a wave.
I finally read through my text messages as I ate the rest of my cinnamon roll, twisting on the stool at the center island.
Skylar pretended to be mad at me for not waking her before I left last night, but forgave me in the message straight after, relieved and proud that I had finally messaged Milton.
She told me to take this time, this space, to feel.
To fall apart, if that was what I needed.
She reminded me to simply let whatever happened, happen.
To say yes to as many things as possible.
To give myself grace and be selfish for once.
I sat on her words for a bit, mulling them over.
It wasn’t that I’d been trying to resist any of that; it just felt like there hadn’t been time for it.
I had breakdowns here and there, cries in the shower or in my car after work when I remembered I couldn’t drive home.
But that was when I’d reached my limit and the emotions didn’t have any other place to go.
All I could focus on was figuring out what to do next.