“This is your house too.” I eye her as she rubs her lips together, indecisiveness brightening her cheeks in rosy patches.
She considers the offer, blinks, then shakes her head. “I’m okay. Thank you though.”
Stevie scampers away, and not a moment later, Rudy slugs my bicep hard.
“What the hell?” I groan, rubbing away the ache.
“You’ve literally petrified the poor girl.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Are you two fighting like a married couple already? Jesus, Lex, it’s only been a few days. You have that photo shoot with her tomorrow.”
“I’m aware.” I slouch in the barstool, slamming my elbows to the counter and raking my hands through my hair. “I’m not used to having a roommate. I have no idea what to do with her.” Instantly, I know what he’s about to say, so I cut him off. “Not that.”
“I didn’t say it.” Rudy drops his sandwich, swiping his greasy hands on a napkin. “Go apologize for whatever it is you didn’t do. We don’t want the bad kind of tension clouding your intimate shoot tomorrow.”
Not that I appreciate his insight, but he’s probably right. Blowing out a breath, I concede, pulling up off the stool and walking upstairs. I knock on her door, clueless as to what I’m supposed to say. “Hey. It’s me.”
Footfalls echo on the other side before she cracks it open. “Hey.”
“Can I come in?”
She studies me for a moment, then widens the door. “Sure.”
Her spread of food is sprawled out on the sterile covers, only one bite taken. Slate-gray sheets are far from a color pop in the otherwise white-on-white room, and the notion gnaws at me. This isn’t her. She lived her life in Technicolor—vibrant posters, flickering candles, color-coordinated book spines, and brightly painted walls. She looks misplaced in this room.
I saunter inside, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, sorry about before. I didn’t mean to lose my shit on you.”
A tiny shrug. “Sorry for breaking your bathroom.”
“I did say you could break whatever you wanted.”
She falters, then ducks her chin with a light laugh. “That is true.”
Silence settles in.
I’m terrible at this.
But Rudy has a point—we don’t want there to be friction tomorrow. And even though I know my acting abilities will pull through, our relationship has always been more than a script.
My hands slide into my pockets as I lean back against the far wall. “So we have that shoot tomorrow with Billy Ellison. Luda has you scheduled for hair and makeup at noon.”
She nods, chewing on her cheek. “Okay. That’ll be fun.”
“I don’t want there to be…” I flick a finger between us. “You know. Discord or whatever.”
“I can handle it.”
“Okay. Good.”
More silence.
I guess that’s that.
Clearing my throat, I pull up from the wall. “Well, enjoy your food.”
She stops me when I turn to leave. “Lex.”
