The Falling (Brightest Stars, #1)(12)

I painted the kitchen walls. Then I started the bathroom shower tiles. As in, I removed about half of them and replaced maybe . . . six.

I counted them.

Okay, so eight.

As convenient as it was to use the constant “remodel” as a way to discourage guests, most notably my dad, I really wished I had the money and skill to do everything I wanted to do to the house. One day I would. This house was my way to prove that I could take care of myself. I didn’t know who I was trying harder to convince, myself or my dad. And did it really matter?

The water was finally warm enough to wash my hair. It shorted out on me only a couple of times. When I turned it off, the shower still dripped behind me as I rough-dried my hair. I thought again of Elodie’s friend, the stranger in my house. He seemed nice enough, but too quiet. Was he rude or just shy? His demeanor didn’t come off as shy at all. As I wrapped a hand towel around the leaking bath faucet and plugged in my hair dryer, I wondered if Phillip was the kind of guy who would mind his friend staying with his pregnant wife. I started to feel uneasy as I blow-dried the tips of my hair. It was impossible to blow-dry in less than thirty minutes and I had only about ten before I had to leave. That would have to do.

I had to do laundry—and soon. I didn’t need to be super-dressed-up for my dad and his wife, but I knew my outfit—and Estelle’s—would be topics of conversation at the dinner table. Outside of our apparel and the typical “Have you seen any good movies lately?” question, my stepmom had nothing to talk to me about. To be fair, I had even less to say to her. My dad’s insult framed as a question, about my career, always came up toward the end of dinner. As predictable as the tide, he made me feel lousy about my job, no matter how much I loved it. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough. It would never be. He made me feel like shit.

I could hear Elodie’s voice as I got dressed. It sounded like she was trying to explain Scandal to her soldier friend. She was the absolute worst at explaining movies or shows to anyone. She always got character names confused and would spoil the ending without even meaning to. As someone who hated spoilers, I now knew better than to ask her about anything she had already seen.

I barely had any clothes left in my dresser, so I shoved my hand in the Forever 21 bag next to my nightstand. There wasn’t much of use in the bag: a pair of jeans one size too big and a brown button-up shirt that fit me everywhere but the chest. I stretched my arms out to see how much of an opening there was between the buttons. Ugh, too much. The last thing I needed was for my dad to comment on my clothes being too small. I ended up throwing on a black T-shirt with a little pocket on it and my go-to black jeans with a hole at each knee. I knew my dad would comment on them, but he always made the same jokes. “You have a hole in your pants.” Or “I hope you didn’t pay full price for destroyed jeans.”

I finally made it out to the living room with about five minutes to spare before I had to leave. Kael was sitting in the same spot, his eyes looking like they were going to close at any minute, his T-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. The chair looked so small when he was in it. He had to be at least six inches taller than me and at least ten taller than Elodie. The longer I looked at him, the bigger he seemed to grow.

Elodie darted out of the kitchen with a big bowl of popcorn. “Leaving?” she asked.

I nodded, digging my hand into the bowl. I was starving. I couldn’t even remember if I’d had anything to eat today. I knew Mali’s food was in our fridge and I would eat it as a late-night snack after barely touching whatever Estelle would be serving.

“I’m going to be late,” I said, groaning.

“What would happen if you didn’t go?”

Elodie and I often joked about my Tuesday date. We did that every single Tuesday, to be exact.

“They would disown me.” I looked at Kael. He wasn’t looking our way, but somehow, I knew he was listening. He was a soldier, after all.

“So, wouldn’t be so bad, yeah?” She licked her buttery fingers and then wiped them across her shorts.

“Not bad at all, actually.” I grabbed my water jug from the table by the couch. Elodie went a little far with the salt on the popcorn. “Do you want me to bring you home dessert?”

She nodded, smiling with a mouthful of kernels.

“I’ll be back around nine thirty. Maybe later, but hopefully not,” I told both of my houseguests. I found myself wondering what they would be doing after I left. The images in my head bothered me a little, not only because Elodie was married, but because this guy seemed off. Before I could even contemplate that, his voice surprised me as I reached the door.

“Can I use your shower?” His voice was soft as rain, and he looked at me patiently, a look I would come to know well.

Kael was familiar in the way that only a stranger could be. I hadn’t seen him before today, but already I had memorized his face. The thick draw of his brow, the little scar above his eye. It was like I had come across him somewhere, or sometime, before. Maybe I had seen him in passing, at a store or on the street, in line for a coffee or to pay for gas. Or maybe he had one of those faces that felt familiar. There were people like that.

“Can I?” he asked again.

I fumbled a little. “Um, yeah. Of course. Of course, you can shower.”

“Thanks,” Kael muttered and stood up, heading toward the bathroom.