Topless, I followed him to the bathroom, where I watched him turn on the water and step into the shower without a word.
“Company?”
He let the shower door close behind him with a hard slam. “No. I got a lot on my mind. Just order food. I'll be out in a minute.”
“Ass.”
Now I was insulted. Now our cat-and-mouse game just became about finding out what he was hiding.
Quietly leaving the bathroom, I immediately started searching with my eyes for his phone. Something he placed on the same rung as Camille—more important than people. His phone was the one part of himself completely locked away, out of my reach.
His leather weekender sat precisely on the desk, like it came with the room, blending right into his dark past. I didn't waste any time rummaging through his bag in hopes of finding his phone. With my hands two shirts deep, I had already convinced myself that the piece of technology would give me every answer I begged Hunter for.
Hunter
California
There were too many variables becoming staples in my life: Addi, her married lover, my boss wanting something from me with no hints… and the worst was Layla haunting not only my private moments but the one with Addi half-naked.
Her phone going off when it did gave me an easy way out, instead of crushing her the way I planned to. She was tough. She could take it, unlike most girls who led with their looks.
There was too much I couldn't calculate, and every equation ended in disaster—mostly with me at the hands of all my variables I avoided dealing with. That only gave them more power. I was willing to let them grow up to be monsters, if it meant not giving into change.
I was too comfortable to abandon all anxiety now, but I was happy to complain about it.
Tucking one edge of the towel down against my hip, I watched Addi look for my phone so focused that she didn't notice me decorating the wall with a smirk directed at her.
“Looking for this…?” I held up my phone, before tossing it on the bed, firmly in the middle of us both.
She frantically shot up right when she heard the sound of my voice. I had scared her, and nothing made me laugh more than watching Addileigh become uncomfortable. It was hard to do without any sass or push back, making this victory as sweet as a get-out-of-jail-free pass.
“No... I lost my lipstick.”
I smugly walked over to her and my bag, unfazed, as I grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from inside the thick zipper. Addi was quick on her toes—not quick enough, though. She had a tell when she was lying: her hands. She'd make awkward movements and touch her lips, as if her fingertips could hold back confessions alone.
Sleep wasn't coming easy these days. I was clocking maybe a few hours a night, if I was lucky. My demons had caught up to me, and the only way they knew to shake me was not letting me rest off the hard emotions.
I planned on getting Addi her own room just to avoid someone being in the room with me. Now my options were sleep and hope I didn't wake up in a sweaty panic like I had been or not sleep at all and look like I was using the drugs I was supposed to be selling.
“I didn't order yet. I didn't know what you'd want.”
Well, at least she had finally shifted gears from throwing her pussy at me. I fell onto the bed, hoping the pillows would turn hard and knock me out when my head collided with one. Wishful thinking.
“I don't want anything.”
Her head snapped back my direction so quickly that I had to hide my concern under a stern attitude. She was looking at me the same way I did when I tried to be her crutch through the Mister drama.
“What do you mean? You didn't eat. What's going on with you?”
I could read between her looks and annoyed words. She wanted to ask me if Layla was the reason I was off, but she didn't want to ask outright, in fear the answer would be yes.
“Nothing… damn, Addi. Not everything is a problem. I'm fucking tired.”
We both knew what we weren't saying, and by not saying it, we were protecting each other…for now, while we could.
I woke up, choking on the air I needed. My demons didn't care. They laughed, watching death get close enough to scare me shitless but not do any harm.
Growing a fucking conscience enough to let anything haunt me wasn't in my DNA. Changes like this only happened from loving… and losing.
I automatically swung my legs over the bed and leaned over, pressing my elbows into my knees to steady my breathing. No matter how many times this had happened, none of it felt comfortable, and I wasn't getting used to it.
It always happened the same way: Layla standing in front of me, but unable to hear or see me. I was invisible to her, and that hit too close to reality. She never saw me, not like how I saw her. Her vision, her heart, her words… every ounce of care was reserved for someone else, long before he waltzed into her life.
Adjusting my tangled necklaces that hung down to my chest, I noticed the sweat coating my body, like I had run a few miles. That was new.
I was hoping Addi wouldn't wake up. I peered over my shoulder at her sleeping body, wrapped in silk pajamas and wearing an eye mask, preventing her from witnessing this.
Nothing about her was average, not even how she slept.
When my breath finally normalized, I got up and headed towards the bathroom to analyze how shitty my outside probably matched my growing conscience inside. The abrasive lights made my eyes buckle and close, and I fumbled for any kind of dimmer switch. Just like my feelings: on a low.
I looked like death. My blonde hair was curling, like I just got out of the water and let the sun bake my curls into position. My eyes were still squinting and had dark bags under them. My skin was a paler version of its norm. Easily now, pushing through the surface was my soul—that goddamn thing I buried so deep that I thought I'd only see it again when I died.
Giving up on my reflection, I walked back to bed, but not before seeing my name in Addi’s cursive on an In-N-Out bag I hadn’t noticed before: Hunter, eat some damn food.
That's what I loved about her: cursive on the outside, but fucking bold and underlined inside.
The next morning, nothing but dread poured over me, seeping into every crack and battling my better mood than last night. Addi was sitting with her mirror placed on the desk putting on her makeup, while the sun danced over the bronzed glow of her skin and red silk pajamas she still had on.
She pointed to a garment bag wordlessly, as she smoothed the lipstick over her lips expertly.
“What's this? Already went shopping? It's 10 a.m., Addi.”
She rolled her eyes, getting up and unzipping it for me. “A suit. Today seems important, and you should look the part.”
“Look what part is that exactly?” My voice was already soaked with sarcasm and annoyance already. There was no “drug dealer” aesthetic or wardrobe. This wasn't some endearing quality anymore. I was on the edge of 30 and still holding down a job that a sixteen year old would have, just to make a little extra cash.
“Successful.”
I unzipped the garment bag, carefully making sure I didn't damage whatever was inside. The dark blue suit was matte and simple—how I liked things to be. I couldn't picture myself in it, but she was right. I couldn't show up to the boss’s house in ripped jeans and my bomber jacket.