“Are you okay?” he asks, the concern in his voice almost wiping away the bad thoughts that have snuck in and stuck.
Almost. Not quite, but almost.
I swat a hand in his direction, the action a little limp as I say, “Yeah, just don’t feel so great. Think I’m just overtired. Don’t worry about it. Have a great night.”
Before he can say anything else, I offer him a smile I don’t feel and turn, my sneakers scuffing along the floor as I head into the apartment before him. I wave at Callie as I pass, giving her a defeated, tired smile, hating how Toby has gotteninto my head enough to screw me like this. I mean, it’s the only good kind of screwing that fuck-knuckle is good at, but I hate it all the same.
The elevator comes quickly, and I step on, stabbing the button over and over. I breathe a sigh of relief when the doors close just as Ryan steps into the lobby with the same look of concern he was wearing before, his eyes trained on me even as the doors close.
As soon as the doors close, I drop my head against the mirrored wall and slump my body, the tiredness catching up to me and dampening my mood that much more. I’m in the pits by the time I step into my apartment, locking the door behind me for the first time in… well, actually, I don’t know how long. I’d only been forgetting to lock it for a week before the guys showed up, and since they come and go as they please, I haven’t really felt much of a need to lock it since. They’re always welcome, in my eyes, so what use is there in creating a nuisance for a barrier?
However, with my mood the way it is, and the thoughts running through my head, I know I’m not good company and I certainly know I don’t have it in me to pretend otherwise. So, I turn the lock, and the snick of the latch slotting in place almost sounds too loud in the quiet apartment that has felt full of life over the past couple of months.
Feeling sorry for myself, I hang my camera bag and purse on the hooks beside the door, kicking off my sneakers before shuffling to the kitchen and checking my fridge. When all I find are bottles of flavored water, fresh strawberries I didn’t buy, and a new jar of chocolate spread, I decide that girl dinner is what will get me by tonight instead of the Indian takeout Ryan bought.
Why couldn’t I have had this miserable epiphany after food, damn it?
Tucking two bottles of water under my arm, I gather the strawberries and chocolate spread before kicking the fridge door shut, then carry my sorry ass all the way to the couch where I plan to spud out and not move until morning. Well, after I change out of my clothes, that is.
After I get changed into short shorts and an oversized shirt, slipping my feet into fuzzy socks I was hoping would lighten my mood, I trudge all the way back to the couch. I grab two blankets on my way, bundling myself in them before gathering the goods onto my lap. Throwing whatever crap is playing on the TV tonight, I gorge on sweet strawberries and sickening chocolate spread, wallowing in the misery that plagues me no thanks to Toby fucking Moore.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maddie
The following days are spent hiding from four handsome guys, acting like a sad little ninja anytime I hear their door open or close, ducking behind the couch as though I’ve unlocked the door for them to waltz right on in.
I haven’t.
It’s remained locked anytime I’ve been home, and I’ve never felt the absence of four people more than I have over the past few days. I’ve forced myself to wake early enough that the birds are barely chirping, catching more hours of sleep in my office before the working day starts, and I’ve been coming home late enough that there’s no way any of them would still be awake. I’ve barely replied to the group chat, the sinking feeling in my stomach anytime I see one of their names flash up on my phone screen steering me away from typing out any messages that could require further communication, and I’ve given instructions to Freya to turn any visitors away at Static. I have gone above and beyond to avoid my four neighbors, and I’m exhausted by every minute of it.
The time spent on my phone has been minimal, and the hours I’ve spent at home have been short and sweet, but what time I have spent here has not only been tiring, but utterly brain-numbing and pitiful.
Despite the loneliness, I’ve strong-willed my sad self into keeping my own company, wallowing and feeling pathetically sorry for myself. I haven’t seen the guys, I haven’t seen my besties, and I haven’t seen my parents. Socialization has been narrowed down to my work colleagues and assistants, all of whom have been a little cautious around me after I had a staringmatch with the coffee machine that I won. Apparently, three different people tried to talk me away from it, but I was in deep with my competition with the machine as my mind ran over every encounter I’ve had with the guys, only ever seeing them taking care of me and being sweet. I mean, it’s really no wonder I misunderstood Caiden’s little declaration, but it doesn’t suck any less. And it certainly doesn’t make me feel any less stupid for it.
For that, I have become a recluse. Not even the polar bears and penguins have kept me company, and I would have welcomed them with an icy vagina and a handful of spicy lube if it meant I didn’t eat dinner alone again. Sadly, I simply haven’t been able to bring myself to face the four men who have occupied my mind since the moment they walked in on me folded in a tub covered in lube, strawberries, and noodles.
Unfortunately, the weekend has crept up on me, Friday going by in a flash of photography and a whole lot of work I’ve stuffed into my schedule to keep myself busy. Who knew having crushes on four dudes who don’t like me back would make me this pathetic? I’ve learned new things about myself over the past few days, and I don’t like any of them.
I don’t like that, in the two months I’ve spent with my neighbors, I’ve grown so attached that I can’t spend time in my own apartment alone without feeling sad anymore. I don’t like that I miss them all. I miss their company and constant chatter, our chill nights in front of the TV, eating dinner with them all. My apartment is severely lacking in laughter, cozy vibes, and a comfort I’ve grown so used to that I feel as though I’m missing a limb or four now that I’ve iced them out.
Sighing heavily, I continue to scroll through social media, rotting away on my cell instead of going through the emails and messages I’m yet to check. The idea of seeing anything more from Toby has me reluctant to even think of theword email, even though I know I’ll need to check them at some point.
Instead, I like several of the girls’ posts as I’ve continued doing despite the radio silence, clock-watch as the hours tick by after the working day is done, and guzzle down chips from a share bag that I will empty all on my lonesome by the end of my doomscrolling session. A session that has lasted three hours already, several knocks on the door going ignored, and the headache behind my eyes growing by the finger scroll.
Another knock tugs at my attention, so I lower my cell and rub at my eyelid, careful not to smudge my eyeliner, and call out, “Yeah?”
I startle a little, because my voice sounds hoarse and not at all like me, and it’s only then that I realize just how silent this particular radio has been. Have I even spoken in the last two days?
I’m thinking hard about it when Zeke opens the door and peers inside the office, concerned eyes landing on me. He frowns and nudges the door open a little wider, and I face him but don’t really look at him, genuinely thinking back to the last word I even spoke and completely drawing a blank. What the hell?
“Are you good, boss? You’ve been kind of out of it lately. Everything okay?” Zeke asks gently, almost sweetly, and I realize right then and there that I absolutely need to get my shit together if Zeke, my blunt and sassy assistant, is trying to be sweet.
Pursing my lips, I nod. “All good here.”
“Are you sure?” he questions, finally stepping into my office and shutting the door behind himself. “Because I had to drag you away from the coffee machine earlier because you were staring at it like it said it loved you and then ghosted you for twenty years. Before that, you were standing at the reception desk and Freya had a full-on conversation all by herself. Sheonly noticed you weren’t listening and were staring off into the distance when she asked you what you were doing for lunch and you answered, and I quote, ‘I’m a dumbass.’ You’ve been doing stuff like that a lot lately, your mood seems like it’s in the pits of hell, and you’re barely eating. Your only source of nutrition has been chips and dip for three lunches and two dinners now, boss. What gives?”
I look down at the half-eaten bag of chips and cringe, because he’s right. It’s like I’m going through a heartbreak without the relationship. Chips have become my best friend, coffee has become the nectar that is keeping me walking upright, and I’m pretty sure my best friends are in the early stages of a kidnapping plot I would consider completely warranted.
