Page 14 of Unhitched

Chapter eight

Mya

“Good morning!” I chirp at Kace the second he walks out of his room. My grin widens when he looks up, and I can practically see his startled heart from here.

“Jesus, Mya.” He digs his middle fingers into his eyes to rub the sleep from them.

“What?” I shrug. “You've been gone for work before I’m awake every day this week. I thought you were a morning person.” The past two days have flown by with Kace working most of the day from his home office or the taco place and me working on my next craft of the week.

I’ve been researching how to make resin bookends.

I want to make a mold from an iPod and cast it in different colors.

I’ll paint the details and a few songs of each person’s choice.

My main concern is seeing if it’s possible in the limited space I have without destroying Kace’s apartment.

“I am a morning person,” he grits out.

“Could have fooled me.”

He rolls his eyes. “By myself.”

“Uh huh. Do you know what I wish?” I grab my flower clip from the coffee table and fasten it in my hair. I’m ready for the day–for our not date –wearing jean shorts and my purple cropped hoodie because they are easy to change out of.

“What’s that?” he asks, although I get the impression he doesn’t care as he makes his way to the kitchen and pops a pod into the coffee maker.

“I wish you could experience your own energy.”

“Huh?” He spares me a glance before reaching for a mug from the cupboard.

I join him in the kitchen, hopping onto the counter across from him.

“Your energy. You know how when you meet someone for the first time or they walk into a room in general and you can feel their energy? It changes the ions in the room or something. I don’t know the science of it. That’s not my point.”

“What is your point?” He presses start on the machine and turns to face me with a raised brow.

His hair is pushed to the side, and his white T-shirt contrasts his black sweatpants.

When I moved in, I was concerned by the lack of art on the wall, but I’ve realized there is no need for art as long as I have Kace to look at.

“My point is that I wish you could experience your energy. I wish you could watch yourself walk into a room. Maybe you’d adjust your personality a bit.”

“Why does it feel like you’re insulting me?”

“I mean, I’m not not insulting you.” I grin, reaching for the cup of coffee he just pulled from the Keurig.

He eyeballs my wiggling fingers in front of him, debating his next move.

I drop my hands to my lap. “I just think you have the potential to be happy, but it’s like you wake up every morning determined to be Ray’s brother from Everybody Loves Raymond . Does your mom not love you either?”

“Not particularly.”

I freeze, my eyes widening. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Kace. That was insensitive. ”

“It’s fine. I don’t have mommy issues.” I wonder if he’s telling the truth, but I’m distracted as he stretches the black mug full of steamy goodness toward me.

Accepting the gesture, I give him a weak smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he demands in a voice that says he refuses to accept pity as he inserts another pod inside the coffee maker.

“Would you rather me look at you like I’d like to have you for breakfast?

” His eyes flick to me as fast as my free hand flies to cover my mouth.

Crap. When am I going to start thinking before I speak?

His mouth tries to form words, but nothing comes out, so I try to recover.

“I mean, I didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to lighten the mood. ”

His reply comes in the form of a pointed look.

I throw my hand in the air dramatically. “Fine. You’re hot. Sue me.”

He smirks but says nothing as he watches the last few drops of salted caramel coffee drip into his mug before taking it.

On his way back to his room, he pauses next to where I’m sitting on the edge of the counter.

He’s close enough that I can feel the heat of his body through his sweatpants against my bare leg.

His hand closest to me holds his coffee mug and the other is slipped into the pocket of his sweats as he leans in and holds my gaze.

“Today is not a real date, Mya,” he says firmly, then continues on his way like he didn’t just cause my near death by self-induced suffocation.

The way my name sounded on his lips overpowers his point, my heartbeat restarting as I slide off the counter to finish getting ready.

I’m psyched about my plans. They’re things that I’ve always wanted to do with a boyfriend, but I knew they’d never go for it. I know it kind of defeats the purpose that Kace doesn’t have much choice in the matter, but I’m choosing to ignore that tidbit of information and have the best day ever.

And tomorrow, I’ll be over-the-top hyped for Kace’s date.

I can have fun almost anywhere, and that gives me a leg up.

I’m not convinced he even knows how to have fun.

Although the forever optimist in me is hoping, praying and wishing that Kace has a good time.

He doesn’t seem like the type who could fake it, so there’d be so much satisfaction that I wouldn’t mind if he won.

But if worst comes to worst and he hates it so much, he might concede, and I’ll get an easy win.

Twenty minutes later, we’re walking out the door.

Kace’s keys jingle as he pulls them from his pocket to lock the apartment.

“I’m driving by the way.” I pull my own keys from my fanny pack by the dead Tamagotchi I use as a keychain.

I wanted to keep him alive, but like everything else, I got bored after a few weeks.

He stiffens, the key frozen in the lock. “No.”

“Umm. Yes. I planned the date, so I’m driving.

You can drive tomorrow.” He eyes me like he’s wondering if he has a chance to win this battle, so I put a nail in the coffin.

“Either you let me drive or you concede now and let me pay half of the rent.” I looked up rent for the apartments we live in out of curiosity, and the amenities, luxury and view make it super freaking expensive.

It might actually be a struggle for me to pay half, but I have a lot of crafty ideas in my brain, so I’ll do whatever it takes.

“Fine.” He finishes locking the door and slips the keys back into his pocket. “But promise me you'll drive safely.”

I feign offense. I can’t really argue considering I have a hot girls hit curbs sticker on my bumper. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t drive safely?”

“You look like someone who doesn’t pay attention at all. You have zero awareness of your surroundings and situations. Possibly play Pac-Man with the lane dividers.”

“Well, that’s rude.” I glare at him as we step inside the elevator. He reaches in front of me to press the button to take us to the lobby, and his nearness sends a tingle through my body. He steps out of my space with nothing more than a shrug.

Exiting the lobby in silence, we’re met with the bite of cool air and the chirping of the telephone wire birds. We walk down the sidewalk, wet from the overnight rain and decorated with evenly-spaced potted trees, to where my car is parked alongside the road.

The parking situation is one downside to living in such a prime location.

I found out Kace has a garage spot for his car, but it’s over a hundred dollars a month, and since I don’t know how long I’ll be here, it doesn’t make sense for me to apply for one yet.

I’m not on the lease either which I’m sure would be an issue.

A street up, Kace pauses, groaning at the sight of my Jeep.

“I forgot your car was pink.”

“It’s We Peep , thank you very much.”

“Like the marshmallow?”

I grin. “Exactly. Who knew that was an official color? Not me. But now here I am with Peep the Jeep, living our best life.”

“You’re weird as shit. You know that, right?”

I shrug. “I was the kid who caught grasshoppers at recess and kept them in my desk as pets.”

He’s frozen in place, staring at me under the awning of a downtown winery.

“You know, in those desks that had tops that opened so you could keep all your notebooks, pencils and erasers inside them.”

“I knew what you meant.”

“Then stop looking at me like that ,” I repeat his phrase from earlier, unlocking my Jeep with the fob.

He looks both ways in the street before holding my door open, leftover rain dripping off the metal.

I slip between him and the car frame and glance back with a smirk as I get in. “I bet you were the kid who stabbed pencil holes into your pink eraser for fun, huh? ”

He shakes his head, hiding yet another smile. It’s like he’s afraid to be happy, and in whatever time we have together–however long it lasts–I’m determined to find out why .

I adjust myself on the front seat, buckle up and wait for Kace to join me.

Pinching my lips together, I hold back my laugh as he hesitates before opening the door and sliding in next to me.

Is he that afraid to drive with me? I think he’s being ridiculous, but I still vow to be extra cautious as we head to our destinations.

“Where are we going?” He peeks through the front window at the cross-street signs like they’ll answer him.

“You’ll see.” I pull the flower clip from my hair and set it in the center console.

He follows my movement, his brows furrowing.

“I read this article once about how a girl got into a car accident, and the clip impaled her brain. That’s not how I plan to go.”

The way he’s always staring back at me should feel unnerving.

Instead, it makes me feel like he’s more curious than anything–like he wants to understand what makes me tick.

That’s probably hopeful thinking though.

He’s emotionally unavailable. It’s just that sometimes I feel like people begrudgingly put up with my quirks, and it’s refreshing that they seem to amuse him or at the very least, temporarily distract him from his grumpiness.