Playing With Fire

CHAPTER XXIV (24)

CHAPTER XXIV
Solana

   Two days later, I'm pushing my bedroom door open and throwing my school bag to the side before crossing the distance between me and my bed. The moment I face-planted on the mattress, I groaned loudly.

   Exhaustion had finally hit me like a tidal wave. Maybe it was because I had to open today at work, or maybe my six-thirty to nine-thirty class broke a piece of my sanity. Either way, I wanted to wash my body and curl into my covers.

   With some encouraging thoughts, I managed to push myself off my bed before stripping out of my clothes and throwing them in my laundry basket. I made sure to put my recently washed hair in a neat bun before slipping on my robe and stepping out of my room. Luckily, my roommates weren't home—probably at the nearest bar—so I didn't rush up the stairs before entering Presley's bedroom.

   It wasn't long until my body was scrubbed and dried. I also did my quick face routine before slipping on the robe again and jogging back to my room. But as I idled in front of my tall dresser, pulling the second drawer open, my efforts faltered.

   My gaze fell onto the black tee-shirt I stuffed in here, when I returned from the airport yesterday afternoon. I wanted to deny ever taking it, but after mom's party at the penthouse, I was frantically packing my luggage while Kane was in the bathroom. I wanted to pretend that I thought the shirt was mine, but I knew right when I lifted it up, it was too big to belong to me.

   But still, I shoved it in my luggage without a second thought.

   Staring at it now, I clenched the fabric but still lifted it out of the drawer, instinctively bringing it to my nose. I inhaled the mahogany teakwood scent that seemed to be glued onto Kane, and I tightened my jaw, embarrassed and disappointed in myself. I'm supposed to be stronger than this.

   After our argument at the penthouse, Kane made subtle efforts to start a conversation with me. I mumbled once to leave me alone, and he did. I wasn't sure why that hurt me, but I decided to avoid thinking of him—which hadn't worked in my favour, because my thoughts always trained back to him. What he was thinking. What he was doing.

   Even though we sat next to each other on the plane, he kept silent. But my heart started tightening, because I remembered the brief glances he'd give me, when he thought I wasn't looking. Or how he made sure no one would push me around once we strolled down the aisle of the plane. The last thing he said to me was a softened "Goodbye" before he took his own Uber home.

   Unintentionally, I found myself stripping out of my robe and throwing my arms into the shirt I stole from Kane. When I treaded to my full length mirror, I pulled on the end of the shirt, noticing it fell almost to the middle of my thighs. I didn't realize I lifted the collar of the shirt until I was sniffing it.

   Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me?

   My self-depraved thoughts were cut off when my ears perked at the sound of something ruffling. Since the house was eerily silent, I tried to pinpoint where the noise came from, only to slowly draw my gaze to the closed blinds shielding me from the night sky.

   Hesitantly, I treaded to the window, but by the time I reached out to lift a single slat, my palms were sweating. Tipping my head forward, I closed one eye and peeked out the crack, only for a scream to get lodged in my throat when I saw a shadow standing on my flower bed.

   Wide eyes turned to mine, just as I staggered back, gasping for air.

   It took a few, long seconds for me to grasp what exactly just happened before I found the courage to step forward again. But this time, I reached for the string and yanked it back, watching as my blinds shot to the top of my window.