CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MAID SERVICE
We took turns looking at each other as he drove. I’d stare straight ahead or gaze out the passenger window, seeing his long glances in my peripheral vision. And then he’d give his attention back to the road and it would be my turn to examine his profile. My eyes were hungry for every detail: the small mole on his neck, the tiny bump in his otherwise perfect nose, the slight wave to his hair, those thick eyebrows and lashes. . . . I’d been starved of these images for too long.
“I’m surprised you still have this car,” I said at one point.
“Yeah, well. I’ve nearly traded it a few times, but . . . sentimental value and all that rubbish.”
He mumbled the last part and scratched his neck. My heart swelled at the thought that the SUV might remind him of our road trip and that’s why he’d kept it.
“I’m surprised you still wear the necklace.”
I touched the turquoise stone. “I wear it every day.”
He kept his eyes on the road and in that moment he looked peaceful.
I curled as close to him as the seats would allow, and we were quiet for the two-hour trip to Los Angeles. It was the most at ease I’d felt in ages. I didn’t think about our fight, Kope, or the other Anna. I didn’t think about whisperers. I just enjoyed this unexpected time with him.
Kaidan lived in an apartment complex that was bursting with life. His neighborhood resembled a college campus with two-story buildings surrounding a common area, and people hung out around the pool holding plastic cups.
When we parked and he turned off the ignition, a look of panic crossed his face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Er . . . I just remembered . . . the flat is sort of, well . . .” He averted his eyes. “It’s a wreck.”
“I don’t care about that. I can help you clean it.”
His eyes stretched wide. “No! I can’t have you cleaning anything. I’ll call someone to come tidy. I’ve been meaning to for ages.”
Okay, now he was just being ridiculous.
When I rolled my eyes, he said, “I had a small party before I left for Blake’s, you see.”
“I see.” Reaching for the door handle, I smiled. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Just as I was about to climb out I heard him hiss. I followed his gaze up to the top of the steps where a fauxhawked guy stood, looking pissed.
“Isn’t that Michael from your band?” I asked.
“Yes. Damn.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked around, but it was dead. “Forgot to charge it at Blake’s. Sit tight a bit while I deal with him.”
I settled back in my seat and pushed my hearing out as Kaidan walked up the steps.
“Where the hell you been, man?” Michael asked. “We had practice today. That’s the second one you’ve skipped out on.”
Kai opened his mouth to speak, but Michael beat him to it. “Dude, if you want to quit, say the word, but I can’t have you dickin’ us around. You haven’t been into it since we got here. I thought after Thursday maybe the old Kaidan was finally back and then you go and skip out today—”
“I know, okay? I know.” Kai ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I’ve been dealing with some issues. But things will change now.”
Michael sighed and shook his head. “I hope so, man. We rescheduled for tonight at ten.”
Kai glanced toward me. “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there.”
After one last skeptical look, Michael went down the steps to a flashy little car and left. I climbed from the SUV and headed up the stairs to where Kaidan stood with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. He didn’t look at me, and I didn’t say a word. I glanced down at the view of the parking area and nearby pool while he opened the door.
Kaidan hadn’t been kidding about the state of his apartment. He gripped the back of his neck as we stood in the doorway, surveying a living area that appeared to have been ransacked by special agents.
“Looks like it was a good party,” I said, closing the door behind us. The room held a sour odor underneath the scent of stale cigarettes, and a sudden tension permeated the air. Our eyes met and fell, like two shy kids.
“We can go somewhere else,” he whispered.
“No.” I turned to him. If we stayed busy, everything would be fine. “I just want to be with you, and we might as well be productive. Let’s clean together.” I looked up at him, giggling at his furrowed forehead. “It’ll be fun,” I insisted.
“Fun? You’re mad.”
But I meant it. I went first to the hideously destroyed kitchen, opening the cabinet under the sink. It was empty.
“Do you have any garbage bags?” I called.
He wandered in, grabbing at the back of his neck again. “Uh . . . ,” he said, glancing around as if he’d never seen the place. My flip-flops made crinkly noises on the sticky floor as I moved to the pantry. It was empty, too, except for a half-eaten sleeve of crackers. Sensing a problem, I opened the refrigerator. Old take-out containers and pizza boxes stared back at me.
“You don’t have any food,” I said. “How about cleaning supplies?”
He shook his head and moved closer, looking miserable. “Anna, please. Bugger it. You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” I put a fingertip on his soft lips and we both stilled. “Let me.”
We stood there like that for several seconds before I grabbed some plastic grocery bags that had been shoved behind empty bottles and cans on the counter. Handing one to him, I headed for the living room and started picking up cans, bottles, and cups. Kaidan followed suit.