Page 29 of Unhitched
“You do reckless things and don't think twice about it.” I take another sip of my beer, then set it on the coffee table.
“You act like that’s a bad thing. I never once got sick from drinking from a hose, thank you very much.” She beams like she’s proud of it. “But anyway, I do have my next job.”
I raise my brow, already regretting my decision. How am I going to manage this without any sort of plans? “Already? ”
“I’ll get some water from the filtered tap, then fill you in.” She smirks.
This fucking girl. I can’t wait to see what her version of a plan is. “Yeah, alright.”
She twists her body, resting her elbow on the couch cushion and her chin in her palm. “Sooooo, we can put the earnings toward rent?”
“Sure,” I say, mainly to get back to the game.
She shifts her chin on her fist, apparently just joking about the water. “And let me pay utilities.”
“Fine,” I concede because I don’t want to put up more of a fight. “But that’s it.”
“Okay, enough talking for today,” she says, surprising me as she hits the start button. “Let’s just play.”
I opt to not press her about her first job in favor of relaxing. We play all sixteen tracks before Mya is ready to call it quits. “Okay, I think I’ve hit my video game limit.” She rests the controller on the coffee table. “Are you hungry?”
I stare at the three empty beer cans at the end of the table. Realizing I’ve only had alcohol and nuts since breakfast, my stomach growls. “Starving.”
She stands. “What do you want? I don’t think we have much, and I’m too lazy to cook.”
Damn. I meant to go to the store today after therapy, and now she’s going to suggest we go out.
“How about this?” She slips her fanny pack from the stool and snaps it around her waist. “I’ll walk down to Little Conejo and bring us back dinner.”
I stand, more relieved than I should be that she doesn’t want to go on an adventure for food, and I’m surprised by my willingness to join her. “I’ll come with you.”
She shakes her head, grabbing her jacket from a hook in the entryway. “I saw you eyeballing Call of Duty when you pulled out Mario Kart . Why don’t you play while I get food?”
“You sure? It’ll be dark soon. ”
Unzipping her bag, she pulls out a purple rectangle. “Taser. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Alright.” I walk to where my wallet sits in the leather bowl on the counter. Opening it, I pull out a couple of twenties.
She shoos me away with a flick of her hand. “I got it.”
I don’t fight her as she leaves. Instead, I switch to my PlayStation and pop in Call of Duty . I have the older version because I don’t play often, but it only takes a few minutes to be reminded of how calming it is.
Most of this day has been a stress relief, especially tonight.
Going out to dinner with Ruby every night, I’d come home feeling overstimulated.
I’d need to relax after, but it was never something we did together–or even in the same vicinity.
We’d both either work after-hours on projects, read or watch a movie–but almost always in separate rooms. If I was working at my computer, she’d take her book to the living room, claiming she couldn’t focus with the click of the keys.
If I sat on the couch and turned on a video game or a hacker-related channel on YouTube, she’d go to our room because “it’s more comfortable.
” The only activity we consistently did together was snowboarding, and that’s not exactly a quality-time hobby.
Looking back, I’m now starting to piece this all together, and I feel like a fucking moron for not seeing we were drifting apart–hell, maybe we were never even really a match.
I didn’t realize until it occurred to me how comfortable it is just existing with someone else in my space.
As I toggle through the menu of MW2 , I wonder if Mya will try to find a separate space after dinner–if she’s ready for a break after being around me all day.
Not that Mya is comparable to Ruby because we aren’t dating, but there’s a small part of me that just needs to know it’s not me driving women away.
Forty-five minutes later, Mya returns with a bag full of food.
I greet her without pausing the game, wanting to get through this mission.
She organizes dinner on the coffee table, making sure to not block the space between me and the TV.
I glance over quickly, realizing I never told her what I wanted.
To my surprise, my favorite torta sits in front of me. “How did you know what to get me?”
“Would you believe me if I told you that I’m magic? Or a mind-reader?”
I pause my game, raising a brow at her.
“Fine.” She chuckles. “Rocco told me.”
“Are you on a first-name basis with the bartender now?”
“Oh, we’re friends. We bonded over our favorite grump.” She grins before biting into her sandwich, and I can’t help but smirk as I reach for mine.
I sink my teeth into the soft bread and through the juicy meat, coated in a spicy avocado spread. Fuck, it’s good.
We finish eating in silence, both of us hungry from not eating all day. When we’re done, I help Mya clear the table before picking up the controller again.
“Hey.” I move my gaze toward her voice before hitting play . “Would it be okay if I go into your room? I won’t mess anything up,” she hurries to add, but my stomach has already dropped at the request.
“Yeah.” I push play on the game to avoid revealing how disappointed I am about her wanting our day to be over. Stop being a moron, Kace. You’re roommates, and she has better things to do than watch you play video games.
“Thank you.” She skips in front of me, quickly passing across the screen, and digs through a box that’s pushed against the window.
I will myself to not watch what she’s doing, focusing on killing the guy in front of me.
As I bob my head around her to not miss my shot, she slips past me again, and I can feel her energy leaving the room.
My shoulders sag, and my avatar barely avoids an attack.
I scowl and give the screen my full attention.
I do a double take when she comes out only a few minutes later and plops down in the gap between the couch and the floor-to-ceiling windows covered by the blackout shades. She must feel me staring because she glances up. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, thankful that I'm still alive when I get back to the game.
“I wanted to make sure I liked the sparkle of this suncatcher paper,” she says, holding up a clear sheet that draws my attention. “It’s easier to hold it against your window since the shade isn't down and the sun sets on that side.”
“Oh,” I say, not knowing how else to respond.
She stares at the TV long enough that it forces my gaze back to my game, and she starts fidgeting off to the side.
The rain dripping from the roof and balcony railings blends with the gunshots of my game and becomes a faint soundtrack of the night.
At one point, it’s interrupted by the sound of a printer, and I glance over long enough to see a thin white device grazing a needle over the black paper feeding into it. Apparently it’s cutting.
Mya stays focused, constantly moving in my periphery for the next two hours that I play. I haven’t played video games this long in one sitting since I was a teenager, but this form of coexisting is comforting.
“All done,” she announces, and I exit out of the game. “Oh. You don’t have to stop playing.”
“It’s alright. I’m done for today. My eyes hurt.” I set down the controller and press the heel of my hands to my eyes.
“Mine too. I was going nearly cross-eyed trying to weed these tiny little letters.”
What the hell is she talking about? “What did you make?”
“You really want to see?” Hope flashes in her eyes in a way that makes me feel like it’s been a while since someone asked to see her art.
I give her my full attention. “Yeah.”
She sits next to me on the couch, a stack of decorated clear paper in her lap.
She holds the top one up, and I now see the sticker is cut into a circle, but instead of being fully clear it has a crystal rainbow stained glass effect.
On top it says, “ Let your glimmers guide you.” She holds it up toward the living room ceiling light.
“It’s kind of hard to see.” She tilts it back and forth, trying to catch the light.
“But it’s a window cling. You stick it on your window and when the light filters through, it streams rainbows into your room. It’s pretty.”
My eyes meet hers. “It is.”
She beams, holding up the next one. This one says, “Without cracks, there would be nowhere for the light to shine through.” She tracks my eyes as they read, then sets it on the coffee table and reaches for the next one.
“Live so brightly that it doesn’t matter if the sun isn’t shining.
” When my eyes shift from the inspirational words to her, she stacks the rest of the pile on top of the ones on the table. “The rest of these are repeats.”
“Those are amazing, Mya.”
“Yeah?” Her face lights at the validation, but I can tell she’s already proud of them.
She knows her work is impressive, and I can’t deny it’s an attractive quality.
“I thought it would be a fun project. Between the sunlight sparkles and the quotes, it’ll be a little reminder through people’s day that magic exists because you decide it does. ”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
How do I even respond to her when I can’t figure out how she exists?
She seems to be all good , despite her chaos.
And yet, what Matt said nags at the back of my mind.
She must be too good to be true. Why else would her relationships never work out?
“Everyone will love them,” I say, and it’s enough for her smile to make another appearance. It’s pretty, happy and a little tired.
“Thank you.” She pauses, pulling her fists into the sleeves of her crewneck. “I was thinking about going to bed after I clean up. But you can totally stay up and play longer. I can sleep on the floor.”
I chuckle. “No sleeping on the floor. I should get to bed anyway.” Standing, I tuck the controller into the drawer of the entertainment center below my TV. “Goodnight. ”
As I reach my bedroom door, Mya says, “Thank you for such a good night. It’s one of the best I’ve had in a while.”
I glance over my shoulder and nod. “Me too,” I say before disappearing into my bedroom and closing off every guilty thought about her sleeping on the couch.