Instead of following the same trail I normally meander down, finding myself at the waterfall or that cliff I jumped from, I went past the resident buildings, and continued on until I found… whatever there was waiting for me. Much to my appreciation, I found a small, quiet beach that’s completely deserted. I don’t know if it’s always empty, if maybe the residents don’t know it’s here, or if I got lucky tonight.
Either way, I couldn’t be more pleased about it. It’s been—shit—I think hours at this point, since I’ve come down here, plopped my ass in the white sand, and started reading and listening to music. It’s a miracle I can even read right now, since the sun has sunk into the horizon a while ago. The song thumping in my ear ends, switching to some Thousand Below song, when it hits me… Curfew.
Shit!
Pulling out my useless fucking phone, I turn the screen on and see that I have five minutes until ten. I’m not normally out of my room this late, so I’ve never had to stay conscious of the rules. Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about this place and their fucking rules, but I’m not trying to give them or Sebastian any ammunition to keep me here longer than I need to be. I all but sprint back to my resident building with one minute to spare. As soon as I get up to my floor, though, I realize I forgot my wristband inside my room before leaving in such a hurry earlier.
Fucking goddamnit!
This is just fucking great. Why the hell do they use these dumbass wristbands anyway? Is this a fucking club? Spinning on my heel, I climb back into the elevator and head downstairs. When I get to the main building, it’s fucking locked.
Of fucking course, it’s locked.Why wouldn’t it be? It’s after the curfew they place on us like we’re goddamn children. I bang my fist on the door. Surely, someone is still inside. It’sbarelypast ten p.m. I’m not in the mood for all this tonight. The anger is rising quickly inside me, and I’m certain steam’s going to billow out of my ears at any minute.
I can’t wait to leave this hellhole and go back home. Shouldn’t even be here. Sebastian is a fucking idiot. He knows good and fucking well I don’t have a drug problem. Yes, I enjoy getting high and getting drunk, but what famous musician doesn’t? The other guys in the band do it too.
This was nothing but a control thing. Manipulation. He wanted to prove to me that he owns me, that he could make me bend and twist any way he wanted because he knows how much this band means to me. He knows what lengths I’d go to keep them. How much Ineedthem.
Fuck this. Fuck him.
Halfway back to the resident building, it dawns on me that the door for that one is also probably locked. A thought that boils my fucking blood. Why would they not have staff at the front desk if they lock all the fucking doors? So, if someone is late from curfew, they what? Have to sleep out-fucking-side?
That’s fucking dumb.
I step up to the door, and it appears the universe is at least a little on my side, because while I was correct—it is locked—there’s someone walking by as I bang on the glass door, and they open it for me. What I’m going to do now that I’m inside the building, I have no fucking clue. Taking the elevator back up to my floor, I stride down the hall, getting to my door, and I try the handle. Like it’ll somehow be open.
It's not.
“Fuck!”
Slowly, reluctantly, my gaze slides to my left. To the door that belongs to someone I really don’t want to bother.
A groan vibrates from my chest as I drag my fingers through my hair, yanking on the strands while I try to think of any possible solution where I don’t have to ask for Rowan’s help because, let’s face it, the last time we saw each other, I wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming.
But… I don’t have anyone else I can ask. It’s not like I’ve gone out of my way to make friends—or even acquaintances—here. That’s my issue everywhere, though, isn’t it? I lack the people pleaser skills that everyone else in the world seems to possess.
Finding myself in front of his door, I lift my fist, hesitating only a moment before knocking. Maybe he’s already asleep.
Yeah, but what then? If he is sleeping—or worse, what if he doesn’t let me in? Then what?
After several long beats, the door swings open. He fills up the frame in forest green flannel sleep pants and nothing else. No shirt, no socks. His eyes widen a fraction when he takes me in before he controls his features.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his usual chipper voice more clipped than usual.
“I’m locked out of my room.” Heat creeps up my neck, but I don’t know why.
“Okay…” Rowan folds his arms over hisbarechest. He’s not overly muscular, his body mostly lean, but it’s not an unattractive body by any means. There’re the faint markings of a six-pack, and his chest is free of any hair, save for a light dusting.
Realizing I’ve spent one too many seconds examining his abdomen, I snap my eyes up to meet his, the green in them mossy. “I accidentally left my wristband in there when I left earlier.”
Rowan cocks his head to the right. “And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?”
He’s feisty tonight.And clearly not going to make this easy.
Blowing out a breath, I continue. “The door to the main building is locked, and I didn’t see any staff inside.”
I grit my teeth, grinding down on my molars as he just stands there, staring at me.
“Can I come in?” I’m not exactly in the mood to beg, but I’m also not in a place to be a dick either. It’s either he lets me in, or I sleep in the hallway.
