Chapter Twenty-One
I flick my cigarette butt away as I anxiously walk across the street, heading toward the entrance of Raina’s apartment complex.
I quickly look up at where her balcony is and see a faint light glowing from inside.
She has to be here, unless someone picked her up.
My thoughts begin spiraling. What if she left with Scottie?
I will lose my fucking shit if she’s with him.
I don’t care about the chaos it might cause.
I will make sure he knows exactly how I feel about him and why he should have stayed away from her.
I have already made myself very clear during our last encounter.
I feel my heart racing as I move, each step almost in sync with my pulse.
I would run to her room if I knew it wouldn’t draw unwanted attention.
Yet, since discovering she lives here, my approach has shifted from trying to conceal my identity to casually walking in as if it’s my own home.
I press the elevator button impatiently, tapping it repeatedly while clutching my bike helmet tightly.
My patience is wearing thin. What’s taking this elevator so damn long?
I tug at my hair, anticipation practically igniting my skin.
I glance around, my gaze landing on the stairway door.
Fuck this. I bolt over and yank it open, racing up the stairs and skipping three steps at a time.
In seconds, I find myself on the third floor, standing in front of Raina’s door.
I press my ear against the cool wood, straining to catch any sounds of a TV or anything that might suggest she’s inside, but all I hear is the rapid thump of my heartbeat.
I quickly pull out my phone, checking for any response from her, but as I suspected, there’s nothing.
I slip my phone back into my jeans and lightly knock on the door.
Restlessly, I pace in front of it, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration.
Pressing against the door again, I strain to hear any signs of movement from the other side.
Still nothing. I exhale sharply through my nose, feeling a mix of anger and concern bubbling up inside me.
With a sudden surge of urgency, I bang my fist against the door, harder than I meant to.
If this doesn’t grab her attention, I might just have to kick the damn door down.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, the door creaks open, and I catch a glimpse of Raina peering through the crack.
Once she recognizes me, she swings the door wide open.
I open my mouth, ready to bombard her with questions, but I hold back and simply stare.
Something feels off. Her hair is down but tangled, and I notice dark circles under her eyes, suggesting she hasn’t been sleeping well.
The vibrant green of her irises seems muted, lacking the usual spark.
She’s dressed in emerald-green pajamas, made of a silky fabric—the pants are long, and the top has delicate, thin straps forming a V at her chest. Something is clearly wrong.
I just can’t pinpoint what it is, and the frustration I initially felt toward her slowly begins to fade away.
She crosses her arms and looks up at me, asking, “What are you doing here?” Her voice screams exhaustion.
I take a moment to study her, trying to figure out what’s going on. “It’s nearly eight at night, and you haven’t replied to any of my texts,” I respond, keeping my tone calm yet firm.
She lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I haven’t even looked at my phone all day.
” I wait, hoping she’ll offer an explanation, but silence hangs in the air.
I rub my jaw, working to maintain my composure.
“You didn’t think it would be a good idea to just let me know you were okay?
” I step closer as the words leave my mouth.
She holds my gaze, fatigue etched on her face.
“I wasn’t aware that you cared,” she retorts sharply, then turns and walks away, leaving the door wide open behind her. She’s right in thinking that, even though it’s false.
I step into her apartment, trailing behind her as she enters.
It’s dark, with only a dim lamp casting a glow in the living room.
My gaze drifts down the hallway where I spot a flickering light at the end.
She must be watching TV in her bedroom. As Raina moves into the kitchen, she grabs her phone off the counter.
“Well...it’s dead,” she states flatly. I watch her pull a charger from a small drawer and plug it in.
Looking up at me, she asks, “Happy?” Dropping the phone back on the counter, she walks past me, almost brushing against me.
Even in her exhaustion, there’s an undeniable feistiness about her.
She heads down the hall, glancing back over her shoulder.
“Would you like to follow me to my bedroom...to make sure I get there safely?”
A weak smile crosses her face. “Yes...I would,” I reply. She scoffs at my answer, rolling her eyes as she steps into her bedroom.
I set my helmet down on the bar counter and walked toward her room.
She probably thinks I’m some weird stalker or a total creep, but I need to find out what’s really going on.
It hurts to see her like this. I pause at the doorway, watching her closely.
She slowly crawls onto her bed, settling against a large pillow.
Then she reaches over, grabs a heating pad, and places it on her stomach.
She tilts her head back and takes a deep breath. “What’s going on, Raina?” I whisper.
She briefly closes her eyes, then turns her head toward me.
“Um…well, it’s that time of the month.” I furrow my brows and lean against the doorframe.
At first, it doesn’t register, but then I get it.
I always knew when my mom was dealing with it, and also when Beck was, while I was living with them.
She turns her gaze to the TV, flinching as she shifts uncomfortably. “Is it really that bad?” I ask, hoping to gain a better understanding as seeing her in this state fucks with my head.
She picks at her fingernails, clearly uneasy. “It is when you’ve got the condition I do.”
My heart sinks. “What condition?” I ask, my concern deepening.
“It’s called endometriosis…and it’s a real pain in the ass.” She chuckles lightly, though her expression remains serious.
I’ve heard the term before, but I know little about it. “What kind of issues does it cause?” I ask as she adjusts the heating pad on her abdomen.
“It varies from person to person, but for me, it’s excruciating periods that leave me unable to go to work, stuck in bed all day, while taking meds that hardly make a dent in the pain.” Her mouth opens like she has more to say, but she hesitates.
“Is that all?” I prompt gently.
She shakes her head, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. “Well, it…it also brings on a lot of pain after sex sometimes…a-and infertility.” She quickly looks down at her hands, avoiding my gaze.
Fuck, that’s a lot to take in, especially considering she’s only twenty-one. It really pains me to think about her dealing with this every month, and knowing she’s been here all day by herself, feeling miserable, just makes it worse. Clearing my throat, I finally say, “I, uh, I’m sorry.”
She tries to run her fingers through her hair, but they get caught in a knot. With a frustrated huff, she replies, “It’s okay…it’ll be easier tomorrow. Honestly, the first day is usually the toughest.” I nod slowly, doing my best to hide how her confession affects me.
I watch her as she opens the drawer of her nightstand and pulls out a small hairbrush.
Sitting up, she starts to brush her hair, wincing at the knots she encounters.
After a moment, she places the brush back on the nightstand and begins to part her hair in preparation for a braid.
I clench my fist, feeling a strong urge to help her.
Swallowing hard, I step into her room. “Can I help you?” I ask.
She pauses, glancing at me. “Help me with what?” I gesture towards her hair.
For a second, she looks a bit puzzled, but then she nods, giving me the go-ahead.
As I approach her bed, she shifts, pulling the heating pad off and laying it beside her.
Then, she turns to face the headboard, crossing her legs.
I gently take a seat, positioning myself so I’m facing her back while making sure to keep my shoes off her bed and blanket.
I take a deep breath through my nose, gently reach for her hair, and begin to detangle the small braid she started.
My fingers glide through her silky strands, and I can’t help but admire the natural blonde and gold highlights that remind me so much of my mom’s hair.
Memories flood back of her teaching me to braid; moments I cherished as they made me feel useful, as if I was repaying a small piece of love.
I refocus on Raina, captivated by the sight of her exposed upper back.
I spot a few faint freckles sprinkled across her shoulders, just like those on her cheeks and nose.
I find myself imagining kissing each one, slowly counting them with my lips.
Being this close to her feels dangerously intoxicating.
The silence between us is gently interrupted when Raina lets out a soft laugh. “What?” I ask, glancing at her.
“I never imagined you could braid hair.”
I take a brief pause, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Is that odd?” I reply.
“Not at all…actually, it’s really cute.” Her compliment brings a smile to my face as she hands me a hair tie from behind her. “How did you learn to do it?”
I sense genuine curiosity in her voice. Taking a deep breath, I respond, “My mom taught me. I used to braid her hair for her.”
Raina turns slightly, a warm smile on her face. “That sounds really special.”
I relax my shoulders and finish weaving her braid. “It was, yeah.” We fall into a comfortable silence as I tie off the end. “There…all done.” She reaches back to touch the braid, running her fingers along it.
“Wow…you’re really good at it.” Turning to face me, she hugs her knees close to her chest, a playful smile spreading across her lips. “Thank you.”
I nod, mirroring her lazy smile. Even when she’s completely worn out, there’s a beauty about her that’s impossible to ignore.
Being close to her, reliving a moment that means so much to me, it’s hard to resist the urge to pull her in for a tight embrace.
I imagine what it would feel like to draw her against me, wrapping my arms around her tiny frame.
My gaze drifts to her chest, envisioning the way her perky breasts would fit perfectly in my hands.
I can almost see the outline of her nipples through the fabric, enticing me to run my thumb over them and witness how they respond eagerly to my touch.
I note how her chest rises and falls steadily with each slow breath.
Our eyes lock, and I can feel the unspoken words hanging in the air between us.
It’s like my self-control is slowly unraveling at the seams, and the longer I stay this close to her, the more I worry that I might do something that I’ll never be able to resist again.
With that truth, my teeth grind together as I quickly rise from her bed and head for the door. “I should get going. I need to check on the cat,” I say.
I hear her sigh behind me. “Stay?” she asks, her voice sounding more like a quiet plea.
I glance back over my shoulder. “What?”
She averts her gaze for a moment. “Could you sit with me a little longer? It’s…helped take my mind off how lousy I feel.” She shifts back on the bed, picking up the heating pad and settling it back on her stomach.
How do I say no? My mind is urging me to leave, but my racing heart is pulling me to linger just a bit longer—for her.
I steal a glance at the empty space on the other side of the bed, feeling an almost magnetic draw toward it.
Shifting my gaze back to the door, I close my eyes for a moment.
Just a little longer, I tell myself as I quietly make my way around her bed.
I grab the pillow and prop it up against the headboard before sinking back onto it, making sure to keep some distance between us.
I position myself so that only my feet hang off the edge, crossing one over the other.
When I glance at Raina, she meets my eyes with a grateful smile before grabbing the TV remote and flipping through Netflix.
Every once in a while, I find myself watching her, observing the way her expressions shift as she gets absorbed in some silly reality show that I don’t pay attention to.
She’s caught me staring more than a few times, yet she remains silent.
In this shared space, we simply enjoy the quiet company of each other, saying nothing at all.