Page 107 of Fame & Chaos

Instantly, I realize I’ve stepped in shit of my own making.

Following her through the tiny living room and into the kitchen, I take in the peeling paint, the worn cupboards, and the barely functioning sink.

“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… you’re such a bright, upbeat person. I guess I expected your place to feel more like you. Not so dark and…” I glance around carefully, “…empty.”

She gives me a small fake smile while pulling a vase down from the cupboard. “I know it’s not much, but it’s home.” She shrugs slightly while filling the vase with water. “I’m used to it.”

The awkward tension settles thickly between us.

“Okay,” I say, trying to shift the mood. “How about you go shower while I make myself comfortable, and we’ll figure the rest out after that?”

“Sounds great.” She turns the faucet off with slightly more force than necessary, then arranges the flowers in the vase and places them on the kitchen island.

“I’ll try not to take too long,” she says before pointing a finger at me with a smirk. “And don’t even think about trying to join me.”

Christ.

“As much as I’d love to see you naked and wet…” I pause. “Actually, no, I’ve got nothing else to add. I really just want to see you naked and wet.”

Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head while walking toward the hallway. “Well, tough luck. Go sit in the living room and watch TV or something.”

I laugh quietly, but as she disappears down the hall and shrugs her cardigan off her shoulders, my attention drifts back toward the kitchen sink.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The leaking tap is loud enough to drive me insane.

I glance around the apartment again, taking in the rusted sink, crooked cupboard doors, and worn-out fixtures.

How the hell does she live like this?

She deserves so much better than this dump.

I know she’d never let me buy her a better place, but maybe I can at least make this one a little nicer. Opening the cupboard beneath the sink, I dig through cleaning products until I spot a small toolbox shoved at the back. Pulling it out, I grin when I find a bunch of old rusty tools inside.

Perfect.

I sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor and start with the cupboard hinge. After a few minutes of adjusting and tightening screws, the door finally shuts properly, instead of hanging half-open. Smiling proudly to myself, I hear the shower switch off down the hall. I move quickly to the sink, grab the wrench, and tighten the taps, adjusting the washers until the dripping finally stops.

Silence.

Beautiful fucking silence.

As Indi hums softly to herself while getting dressed, I tuck the toolbox back under the sink and lean against the kitchen island with a grin. Keeping busy definitely helped distract me from the mental images of her standing naked beneath hot water only a few feet away from me.

Barely.

A few moments later, she walks back into the kitchen, toweling off her damp hair.

And Christ.

She looks gorgeous.

Instead of trying to dress up for me, she’s wearing soft flannelette pajama bottoms and a plain long-sleeved purple top with no makeup, wet blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. And somehow she looks even sexier than she did the night before.