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"No!" I throw the jacket across the room. "Kiara. Don’t be fucking stupid!"
I brace against the basin, staring into my own eyes in the mirror.
"Repeat after me: I hate Kylian Baxter."
And by the time the tub is almost full, I almost have myself convinced again.
Almost.
I sleep through the alarm.
Twice.
The extra exertion of the previous night sent me into a fitful sleep filled with weird dreams of dark night clubs and cornflower blue eyes unnerving me, and although I wake up at almost 9 a.m., I'm even more tired than I was before I fell asleep.
My lit-up phone screen tells me the incoming call alert is probably what woke me and I sigh seeing Ananya's face pop up. She'll text until her thumbs fall off before she'll make a phone call, so it must be important.
"Yeah?" I answer.
The noise in the background tells me everything I need to know. One voice is screaming while a bunch of other voices are trying to calm the screamer down.
"Shi Lei is freaking out. She wants to go."
I sit up, rubbing my head. I don't blame her. She probably doesn't trust anyone right now.
"Okay, well, try to calm her down, but if she really wants to leave, tell her you'll call her a car to take her wherever she wants to go. And give her some money. But make sure you get the address for wherever she goes from the driver. I'll be there as soon as I can."
I hang up the phone and am ready to leave in just five minutes.
Half way out down to the lobby I remember that my car isn't waiting for me in the parking garage.
"Dammit!" I yell just as the elevator doors open.
"Hi," a deep male voice says, and the face it’s attached to is grinning at me, holding out a coffee.
"Ugh," spills from my lips before I can stop it.
"Good morning to you, too," he says, with way too much cheer. "Black, no sugar. And here’s an extra cream and sugar packet for when you decide you hate taking coffee black and plain."
In my surprise that he’s gotten my coffee order spot on, I take the cup from him, the silent question lingering between us.
"I told you. I have a good memory,” he adds, with a smug smile that’s just itching to be slapped.
"What are you doing here?" I snap, taking a sip from the coffee, wincing when the bitter taste hits the back of my throat.
He points towards the building's glass door, and waggles a finger.
"Use your words. I know you know how to talk, Kylian!”
He chuckles, his eyes annoyingly sparkling.
"Why are you laughing? I'm insulting you," I hiss. What the hell is wrong with this man? Is he permanently high or something?
"I know. It's cute."
I growl, only stopping when I almost choke on my mouthful of coffee. I hate to be called cute. Cute is for puppy dogs, or baby sloths, or... or...Kylian Baxter, a niggling thought in my voice traitorously cackles.
“I’m here for that.” He points again towards the street.
