Interesting choice.
It suited her more than it should’ve. Made her stand out. Not that she didn’t already—walking around like the world was too loud for her, all nervous glances and twitchy fingers.
Would my competition jump from silicone to human?
I let out a short breath of a laugh.
Not yet. I straightened my shirt and stood.
I placed the box on the slim side table.
Let’s see what she had to say for herself.
Chapter 5
Callie
The door creaked open, and there he was. Alistair Graves in all his broody, miserable, landlord glory. Dressed in black like he was in mourning, probably for peace and quiet.
His eyes flicked over me. Not in a pervy way—but in a way that made me instantly aware of the sweat on the back of my neck, the cheap energy drink fizzing in my veins, and the fact that I had purple hair now.
His gaze landed there.
My hair.
Shit. Was it too much?
His mouth twitched. Just slightly.
Was that a smile?
“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual. My voice came out too high, like a balloon being strangled.
“Callie,” he said, deep and smooth. Then he leaned on the doorframe like he had nowhere else to be. “New look?”
I resisted the urge to push my glasses up my nose. “Just… a little colour. Bit of fun.”
“Hm.” His gaze lingered a moment longer before he turned and disappeared inside. The door stayed open.
I stood there like an idiot. Was that an invitation?
I stepped in slowly, cautiously—like he might change his mind and slam it in my face.
He came back from the hallway carrying the box.
My box.
The one that was supposed to be discreet. The one that definitely, absolutely, better not be giving off vibrator vibes.
“Thanks for taking it in,” I said quickly, reaching for it.
But he didn’t hand it over right away.
“What did you order?” he asked, tone light, unreadable.
My heart hiccupped. I laughed. Nervously. “Uh… just some… personal stuff.”
That was true, right?
