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“Wait, you didn’t tell them about me?” He rubs his eyes, still out of it.
Guilt is evident on my face.
He pouts.
“Hey, don’t give me that look. I wanted to, okay? I just didn’t get the chance.” I climb into bed, straddling his bare chest and bending forward to cover his lips with “forgive me” kisses. A smile eventually crosses his tired features, and he hooks a hand behind my neck to kiss me back.
You know the moment I was talking about? The moment where it sinks in and I realize that the guy I love more than my own damn self followed me to another country?
Well, that moment is now.
I’m so happy I feel like my body can’t possibly contain all this joy and it’s going to come bursting out of me at any moment. Haze’s fingers get lost in my hair as he kisses me. I can feel his morning wood strain against my silk shorts, and I know if I don’t get away from him, we might not get out of bed anytime soon. He rejected me yesterday, and with good reason, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m horny as f—
“What are you thinking about?” Haze looks at me curiously, his fingers smoothing over my right thigh.
“Just… stuff,” I stutter and pick myself off his body.
I kneel down to unzip my suitcase, on the hunt for a decent outfit, and a few minutes later, I’m dressed, much to Haze’s disappointment.
“Time to go get yelled at.”
Haze’s eyes carefully follow me around my bedroom as he sits up straight and runs a hand through his messy hair.
“What if we don’t tell her?”
I stop. His eyes land on my window, and he grins. I know that grin.
“No, no way. You’re not sneaking out the window.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Because they’ll see you.”
“No, they won’t. Then, all I have to do is knock on your door, pretend that I got here today because I realized I couldn’t live without my amazing girlfriend, and introduce myself. Everyone wins.” Haze gets out of bed and makes his way to my window to check out his escape route. “Piece of cake.”
I sway from one foot to the other, chewing on my lip.
“Listen, from what you’ve told me, she’s going to hate me either way but not nearly as much as she will if she finds out I came into her house without her approval.”
Shit. He kind of has a point.
“Fine.” I can’t help but check him out. He’s standing there in his boxers, looking so effortlessly perfect and putting my morning hair to shame. I think he notices because he grins. I shake my head in an attempt to gather myself. “You should… hm… get dressed and wait a few minutes. I’ll go downstairs. Text me when you’re coming down. I want to be the one to open the door.”
Haze nods and picks his shirt and sweatpants up from my floor. We really need to go buy him new clothes while we wait for his to get here. And he needs to make arrangements to sell his old apartment’s furniture as soon as possible. He said he knows a guy who helped his family out in the past—the guy who emptied their first house in less than a week before its demolition and after what happened to Desiree. He’ll clear out whatever Haze can’t get shipped.
Grabbing my phone on the nightstand, I peck him on the lips, walk out, and glide down the stairs.
First mission of the day: stop my mother from murdering Kendrick and Will.
The living room is empty, exactly the same as it was the day I dragged my suitcase down the stairs and left for Florida. I assess the perfectly clean house. No sign of Jaden playing video games, no sign of Maika breaking every single doll my parents buy for her—I don’t know what she does with them, but I feel bad for the headless Barbies she carries around—and especially no sign of my mother.
A laugh falls out of my mouth when I step into the kitchen and see Kendrick and Will on their knees, scraping the kitchen tiles. I take in the scene of the crime. Opened pancake mix lies on the counter next to dirty pans. The guys’ faces are covered in flour. My guess is they tried to make pancakes, somehow ended up throwing flour at each other like the two-year-olds they are, and burnt their food.
“What on earth happened here?”
“It’s his fault,” Kendrick grumbles.
“Not true,” Will says.
