It doesn’t fit.
Of course. Last-minute chaos strikes again.
Hastily, I slide out a few cards I won’t be needing and drop them on top of the armoire. One of them goes flying halfway across the room when I slam the doors shut. Rolling my eyes, I shove the wallet back into my pocket and then take five extra steps in the opposite direction to pick up?—
“Fuuuuck…” Noah’s keycard. How could I have forgotten?
A jolt of guilt stabs through my chest, but there’s no time to sit with it. I glance up at the clock. I’m officially late. With no time to spare, I pocket the card and haul my ass out the door.
“Have a good night, guys!”I grab my bag and wave to the crew as they start packing up their gear.
The designer hollers back. “See you, Alex. Pleasure working with you.”
The shoot turned out to be easy enough—long, but smooth. Everyone was friendly, no egos, no drama. Elijah called to let me know he landed safely and was on his way to the hotel, which isn’t too far from his parents’ house in Aguadilla. I wouldn’t have minded staying with them, but Elijah figured we’d be more comfortable in a room nearby. He knows better than I do, so I trust his call.
“Goodnight, Alex,” someone else calls out, and I wave over my shoulder as I head out.
The drive back to the penthouse is torture. Traffic crawls, brake lights flashing in a frenzy, like some sort of haphazard Morse code. Horns blare from every direction, layering over each other in a relentless, nerve-grating symphony. My anxiety spikes with every inch we move forward. I’m barely holding it together. I’m like a ticking bomb ready to explode. Jittery as hell. And Noah’s keycard pressing against my thigh with every shift in the seat feels like a matchbook ready to ignite.
I whip out my phone as the car rolls up to the curb, scrolling through my contacts. My thumb hovers over Noah’s name. Just as I’m about to press it, my mind decides to screw with me.
Isn’t it strange to be calling him? Out of the blue? You’re returning a keycard, not striking up conversation. And what if Gabriel sees your name in Noah’s recent calls? How are you going to explainthat? Huh?
Huhhh?
I swipe out of my contacts and close the app, pulling up another app instead—then shutting that too. I grab my jacket and climb out of the car. Fine. I’ll show up unannounced, hand over the key, and be on my way. Simple. Clean. Just a transaction.
I’m definitely overthinking this. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I’m just returning something that doesn’t belong to me?—
Like the fucking key to Gabriel’s boyfriend’s apartment!
Fidgeting with the collar of my shirt, I stagger off the elevator and onto Noah’s floor, muttering a pep talk under my breath as I make my way down the hallway—literally talking to myself like an idiot. Rambling like a complete mess.
Good thing no one’s around to witness me unraveling, losing my goddamn mind. I actually feel sick to my stomach.
When I reach his apartment, I rap my knuckles lightly against the door and wait.
No answer.
I knock again… harder this time. I just want to get this transaction over with. There’s a doorbell, too, so I press it.
Another knock.
Another ring.
Jesus Alex, just slip the card under the door.
Or… let yourself in. You have the key, after all.
Right. I do.
But that would be stupid, wouldn’t it? Then again, he gave me the key for a reason… though I highly doubt breaking and entering was what he had in mind.
Ugh. Here I go. Overthinking.Again.
I’ll open the door, leave it on the counter where he’ll see it, and then leave.
Makes perfect sense.
