I must’ve fallenasleep to another one of Lacey’s meditation podcasts sometime after lunch, because when I woke up, my room was dark. Raucous laughter seeped through the slivers of space around the door, letting me know game night had begun.
Despite the minor improvements I’d had, one thing that remained was my exhaustion, particularly during the days right after my therapy appointments. My body reacted to the unearthing of buried feelings as if I were physically digging my way out of a grave—a tomb created by my own mind to hold me prisoner. I clawed my way, one handful of dirt at a time until I was spent.
I released a long breath, scrubbing my hands down my face before glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was a little after eight, which meant I’d slept the day away and that Dallas and Katie’s game night was well under way.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since late morning. I needed to sneak out to the kitchen and grab something to eat, so I reached across the mattress, pulling the dainty chain that turned the bedside lamp on.
The heels of my palms rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and I stood, trudging across the room to the door. I started to twist the knob, but stopped short when I remembered who might be out there. I probably wouldn’t run into McKenzie in the kitchen, but on the off chance that Idid,I didn’t want to look like I’d just rolled out of bed.
I appraised my reflection in the full-length mirror to the right of the door. My wavy hair had flattened in the center but the sides formed points that resembled horns.
“Fuck,” I muttered, using my fingers as a comb until I’d managed to make the raven strands look somewhat presentable. I shoved my feet into my Converse because absolutely nobody needed to see my feet.
Satisfied, I left the room and padded down the hall to the kitchen. My heart lurched as I stepped into the doorway. McKenzie was there with her back facing me. I recognized the way her light brown hair skimmed her shoulders. She wore a long sleeve shirt, dark jeans, and motorcycle boots with a green and black flannel tied around her waist. One hand rested on her hip while the other squirted whipped cream into her mouth.
“Everything okay in there, McKenzie?” Katie’s voice called.
“Yep,” she shouted back. “Be right there. Just grabbing another beer.”
Her head dropped back with a heavy sigh.
“Fuck my life,” she muttered before taking another pull off the Reddi-Wip.
I choked on a laugh, and she yelped, spinning around to find out where the sound had come from.
“Shit,” she said around a mouthful of foamy cream, a dribble spilling down her chin. “What the fuck, dude?”
“Sorry,” I said, stepping closer to her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just coming in here to grab a snack.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she swiped at the corners of her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.
I cleared my throat. “You missed a spot.” Before I could stop myself, I reached out to brush away the white dot clinging to her skin, but she pulled back.
“Thanks, but I can do it,” she mumbled, dragging her palm over her face. “Did I get it?”
“Yep,” I said.
She held the can of whipped cream toward me. “You want some? I have no idea why, but they keep tons of this shit in the house.”
I shrugged and took a squirt before handing it back to her.
“You’re staying here?” she asked.
I nodded.
She narrowed her eyes. “And how did you manage to avoid getting roped into game night?”
“Weren’t you getting a beer?” I asked, lifting one brow.
She lowered her voice. “What I was actually doing was avoiding Caesar. I always get stuck on his team when we play Pictionary.”
A grin tugged at my mouth. “Is he just really bad at it?”
“Yes,” she answered. “But he also tries to flirt with me, which he’s equally bad at. He’s a nice guy and all, but I’m just not interested. Not in him, not in anyone. Not ever.”
“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” I teased.
“Okay, I told you why I’m in here,” McKenzie said, opening the fridge and swapping the can in her hands with a beer. “Now it’s your turn.”
