We.Why did it hurt so bad I wasn’t a part of thatwe? Fear seized me. What if this became more than sex? What if he fell in love with her? I don’t think I could exist in the same space as them if they were together for real. If it came down to it, who would Kaz choose? Her or me?
I walked back to my room in a trance. It felt like I’d fucked up a lot of things without ever realizing it.
And now, I had no idea how to fix any of it.
16
KAZ
Nearly a week had passedsince the first time Molly and I slept together, and her smell was quickly becoming a permanent feature of my room. It was everywhere—buried deep within the fibers of my pillowcase, bedsheets, towels, and the Iron Maiden T-shirt she’d worn once. When I touched these items, it was as if they carried the ghost of her skin. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was the best lay I’d ever had.
Lying on my bed, I glanced down and plucked a blond hair tinged with pink off my chest. We’d slept together another handful of times, whenever Mase was out of the house. I closed my eyes and conjured images of her writhing on top of me. Fuck. The way my heart pounded against my ribs was a bad sign, as was my already hardening cock. I’d had enough casual sex to know it shouldn’t feel like this, yet here I was, already missing the girl who would never be mine.
She didn’t really like me. I had no delusions about what I meant to her. I was a way to get her mind off the guy she was actually pining after, who happened to be my best friend.
I dragged my palm over my face and exhaled a heavy breath. A bitter feeling washed over me. Ever since Molly and Mason “cleared the air” this week, they’d become more relaxed around each other. Cracking jokes, having in-depth discussions about work, exchanging glances. The last one may be a figment of my paranoid imagination, but I was becoming convinced it was only a matter of time before she changed her mind about me. I wondered how different things could have been if, instead of pushing her away from day one, Mason had been brave enough to let her in. Something told me I wouldn’t have been part of that equation.
The pile of laundry in the corner stared back at me. Mase and I had gone to a music festival this weekend in Joshua Tree and returned just a few hours ago. It was something we’d planned months in advance, something I’d looked forward to… until I started sleeping with Molly. Now all I felt was regret I hadn’t spent the weekend with her.
I got off the bed and started to sort through the clothes. Mase had asked me a lot of questions about my father ever since I’d told him about the DNA test. It felt good to talk to him about it, which made me think I should have fessed up a long time ago. He’d asked me what had stopped me from talking to my father. It had nothing to do with lack of opportunity. There’d been a few perfect chances, where he was on his own, in no particular rush, and I could have walked right up to him, but my body had failed me. I couldn’t get my legs to move. He’d rejected me once already, before I was even born. And chances were, he’d do it all over again.
* * *
When I looked at my phone when I woke up on Monday, the date caught me off guard. A knot formed inside my chest. August eighth. My mama’s birthday.
For a moment, I considered calling her. It was a grave insult in Russian culture to not wish people close to you a happy birthday. I’d know, since she’d missed my last three. When I’d dropped out, it was like she’d gotten the permission she needed to drop the last remaining pleasantries between us.
Instead of picking up my phone, I picked up a bottle of vodka. The glass was icy cold, straight out of the freezer. I poured a shot, raised it in the air, and mumbled “Z’dnem rojdenia” before throwing it back.
The harsh liquid travelled down my throat and into my empty stomach, leaving a dull fire in its wake. Today wasn’t going to be a good day.
Mason emerged from his room a short time later. He took me in spread out on the couch, my left hand curled loosely around the still-frosted bottle, my right around a vape I rarely used these days. He let out a sigh. This was how he’d found me last year on this date as well.
“What can I do?”
“Go,” I said tonelessly. He’d seen how I fared on the previous two birthdays, and he knew by now it was best to leave me alone.
Yet he stayed for a while. Rummaging in the kitchen. Keeping an eye on me. Finally, I told him to get out—rather rudely—and he left with his gym bag slung over his shoulder.
By the time the clock ticked past two, I was well on my way to being drunk. I made my way down to the basement and tried to strum something out on the guitar, but as expected, nothing good came out. Unlike so many other musicians, alcohol never helped with my art. If anything, it dulled me down to the point of musical uselessness. I wasn’t a big fan of drinking. Anything that blocked my creativity wasn’t worth my time, but today was an exception. Dullness was the only way I’d get through it.
Abandoning the instrument, I left the basement and wandered up to the small backyard Mase and I rarely used. It was a shame we didn’t. The bamboo was overgrown, and the grass needed a thorough weeding, but the way the light shone through the spiky leaves was nice. It could be beautiful if we gave it some much-needed love, but I doubted we ever would. We were too busy with everything.
Sitting down on a step, I perched my elbows on my thighs and breathed in the fresh air. Then I took another swig.
“There was a time I loved you, you know?” I mumbled to myself, my thoughts becoming scattered. “Before I finally realized you didn’t give a fuck about me.”
“Kaz?”
For one terrifying moment, I thought it was her. My mama. Here in my home on the other side of the world. But, no, it was another female voice, soft and with no accent.
I looked over my shoulder. “Why are you here?” I said with a slur.
Molly’s brows pulled together. She was dressed in a soft-pink dress that billowed around her in the breeze. “It’s two thirty. I thought I’d come a bit early to review the details of the shoot with you. Are you…” Her gaze dropped to the bottle by my side. “Why are you drinking in the middle of the day?”
Fuck, I didn’t want to her to see me like this. She looked perfectly put together and wholly too good for someone like me. The concern in her voice was the last thing I needed to hear right now. “Mase isn’t here. Take the day off. We’ll meet tomorrow.”
She didn’t listen. Her steps made the wooden boards creak angrily, as if the deck itself was telling her to go home.
