—who is laughing at me. Like, not just a little giggle and a smirk. No, she's full-on bent over a the waist, hands on her knees, wheezing with the struggle to stop the laughter that pours from her lips.
"Oh, so does my love lifeamuseyou now?" I storm past her, hating that I'm already so on edge about something as stupid as this. I just—I don't like the way she looks at me like she's having the time of her life with this whole situation. Like she'senjoyingmy suffering. Like it's ajoke.
"No, no," she wheezes, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Not that at all. I just—okay, just a little, but like, Kai, listen, it's not—it's notyou—she just—her face when you shoved her out the door and told her to lose your number—I can'tbreathe?—"
For one split second, I take her claim seriously, not realizing that it's a turn of phrase. I'm at her side in a heartbeat, ready to perform CPR if she's truly suffering, but no, she's just laughing too hard to catch her breath.
I roll my eyes and head over to the coffee machine, which for the first time all week, isn't even started yet.
"You didn't make coffee?" I know I sound like a petulant child, but like, this is half her job in the morning. And I know that I just want her here for my own selfish reasons, but shedoeshave a job, and I thought she'd managed to do it, since it's not much I'm asking her for. Show up. Make coffee. Prep the schedule. Pick at my choice in clothes, occasionally. And water my plants, which I never remember to do.
Not hard tasks, nothing that takes an exorbitant amount of time, either.
Which she did none of today. If she was on time, she's been here long enough to be finished with it all, even before Reese left my room and encountered her. I'd look at my watch, but I'm not wearing it, and my phone is in my room.
"No, I didn't," she hedges, her laughter slowing as she groans and puts her hands on the counter, leaning up with a wince. "I was too busy beingyelled atby your one night stand, Kai." Her lips curl down in a look of pure distaste. "Which isn't in my contract, by the way. If they're going to be aggressive and volatile like that, I want hazard pay." She makes a point of straightening her dress as she examines the countertop like it's the most interesting thing on the planet. "I'm only here this early because I was going to see if you wanted to get wasted with me."
It's then, and only then, that I realize she's not wearing her usual work attire—she's still in the dress she wore to the performance last night. I glance at the clock on the wall, the only one in my house that's not digital. "Denali, it'sfour in the morning."
She lifts the bottle of champagne I just now realize she's been holding this whole time, and grins. "If you're worried about the time, I can send Roger to the corner store for a bottle of OJ and we can make mimosas for breakfast instead."
"Fuck that," I say with a huff, grabbing the bottle from her hand as I move around the counter and pull two glasses out of the cabinet for us. "Let's drink."
Her elbow comes down to rest on the counter, and I curse myself internally as my eyes drift to her impressive cleavage in that tight little dress she put on for the performance last night. "Well, then pour me one, too. I'll have what you're having."
chapter nineteen
Denali
When I leftthe after-party after tonight's music show, I didn't expect to end up where I'm at now. I didn't expect to end upanywhereexcept in my apartment,myapartment, for a change, relaxing with my cat and enjoying my peace and solitude.
Donghyun was nice, I'll give him that. We hit it off over some jokes and commiserations about finding our place in a strange and ever-changing industry. He came over with one of the other idols from South Korea.
Unfortunately, when he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place, or mine, or get a hotel room and finish out the night, I had to decline.
Not because he wasn't great—he was. But because he wasn't what I was looking for.
When he put his hand on the small of my back at the party, all I could think of was how Kai does that exact same thing when I space out in line for coffee at the little cafe we stop at every day on the way to our first appointment. When he leaned in to talk to me and his lips brushed the shell of my ear, all I could see in my mind was the way Kai does that exact same thing when we're in a crowded staging room and he needs to talk to me, so we won't beoverheard. And when I stepped out of the car and onto my block, bidding Roger goodbye as I walked into my apartment, a part of me wished that I'd said yes.
Instead, I ended up in my place, standing in the kitchen, feeding my cat in a cocktail dress and heels, an itch under my skin that wouldn't go away.
So I got in my car and drove. First, I stopped at the liquor store and bought a bottle of champagne on discount, because the thought of spending tonight sober was too much to handle. I figured I'd go home and drink it all alone, or maybe drive somewhere, park for the night, and get wasted until the sun came up. There was no plan beyond forgetting how it felt to watch Kai leave with another woman.
I drove for hours, no destination in mind once I realized that home held no appeal. If I got wasted there, it was more likely that I'd trip over Taco and pass out on the floor. And there were too many reminders at home—reminders of my life, of my past, and of my bleak future, even working with someone as generous as the company currently employing me. Eventually, I ended up coming to a stop in front of Kai's building. I saw the light on in his window. Knew what he was up to still, with her.
I could turn around, go home, pretend none of this happened. I could deny to myself and to him what I was fighting, act like I was never here. But something inside me had had enough.
I was tired of pretending this wasn't where I wanted to be.
I'll just go upstairs, tell him I had a terrible night, ask him if he wants to get drunk with me. It's fine. We can be friends. I can spend a little time with my boss and it not mean anything.
Because it never would mean anything. I'm not the kind of girl guys like this go for. But after the whole drugging situation, we'd gotten closer. And when I'm around him, I feel safe. Safer than I have in a long time.
I didn't expect his one night stand to start laying in to me like she owned the place when we did interact. I certainly didn't expect her to admit he was moaning another woman's name in his sleep while he was lying next to her.
I don't usually have such weird interactions with his paramours. But they can'tallbe sane.
There were few things in life as comfortable as laying on a cloud. But Kai's bear fur rug in front of the fireplace that he rarely uses comes close. Which is why we're currently sprawled on it, him on his back, me on my front, a mostly-empty bottle of champagne between us. My glass is lying on its side, empty, because we're just passing the bottle back and forth now, and there's not much left in it. So why waste time on the glass when there's only a swig or two left?
