HIS

GOING ROGUE

I rubbed the lingering sleep out of my eyes as I made my way down the stairs at such late hours. Lightening lit up the kitchen that connected to the living through the flushed blinds. The showering sound of a gnarly storm filled the air and had me a bit on edge with sporadic cracks of thunder. 

"Uh, I'm so thirsty..." I mumbled under my breath before flipping on the islands hanging can lights.

My heart leaped out of my chest.

Lucas was standing in the back doorway, past the laundry room, left of the kitchen. His hair damp, torso bare and slick with fresh streaks of mud covering his arms. He had on a pair of jeans I have never seen before, that were fitting loosely on hips.

"Jesus Christ- Babe!" I stammered, "W-what in the hell!?"

He shook out his hair like an untamed dog before rubbing some mud off his arms, "You asked me to check on your "she-shed" and materials because of the storm... so I did."

"That was hours ago- and I definitely didn't say do it shirtless!" I recalled, opening the refrigerator to pull out the Brita.  As I searched for a clean glass, he stepped further into the light revealing how tossed his hair was with twigs and mud. "And I know my little storage is a pig-sty, but I'm sure it's lacking the pigs."

He chuckled dryly, obviously not amused as he stood at the end of the island intently. Lucas's posture was straightened, his jaw clenched. The man was visibly irritated for reasons I could not pin point, since I was the one surprised by this wet mop in the middle of a tropical storm, shirtless... Let's not forget, shirtless.

"Are you trying to catch a cold?" He just stared at me. "Okay..." I started pouring my glass of water, "I guess I should apologize for asking you to go outside...?"

"It's fine. Everything is secured and won't get damaged." It felt as if he was talking through me and not at me.

"I'm confused." I shook my head and put the Brita down. "I asked you to check on the shed around 8- it's-" I looked at the ovens overhead clock, "2 o'clock in the morning!"

"What's with all the commotion?" Nola swayed in from the guest room I would eventually make into my Studio once she has found a place to settle.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" I laughed sarcastically and put my focus back on Lucas. "Why are you running out shirtless in the middle of a storm?"

He was still just looking at me. His shoulders were tense, eyes calculating, as if he was trying to find the right thing to say in a dire predicament. Then it seemed as if he had so much to say but didn't know how to say it or bring it up. He looked lost for words, which wasn't a norm for him. It was raising concern in me and the silence was starting to make me antsy and unsure about the next thing he would say.

"I'm sorry." My tightening chest started to ease. "I didn't mean to startle you both... I should have gotten up earlier to check on your art supplies but I guess I got to comfortable." His words were soothing and his posture became more relaxed.

But it wasn't enough... because something inside was not sitting right with me...

It felt like he was lying...

"Well honestly, it was Victoria's voice that started bothering me not you, Lucas." Nola yawned and I almost broke my neck.

'Bitch!' My thoughts snapped.

"But now that were all home, I did want to let y'all know I found a place in town and my Move-In date is next Monday!" She chirped up, still looking drowsy.