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“Hey, I gotta go. Tell Shan I said hi, and tell Mom I love her and I’ll call her tomorrow.” He hung up, sighed, and pressed the elevator button, as a tidal wave of anxiety suddenly overtook him.
Fuck. Here we go, he thought, hoping to God that Amara was busy so he could have a meltdown privately.
Grounding (6)
Amara stepped off the elevator, a hamper bag slung over her shoulder, and headed to the laundry room in the basement.
Almost 3000 bucks a month and there’s no washer and dryer in the damn unit? she thought, annoyed, as she set the bag down next to a washer and tried to locate the coin slot. She scoped out a couple different machines with no luck.
Growing frustrated, she must’ve been muttering to herself because she heard, “It’s a card, babe. You have to load it on the machine over there.”
She turned to look, and an attractive younger guy was pointing at a screen in the corner. He was wearing a gray wool hat and sucking on a lollipop. “Thanks,” she said, before realizing that she’d only brought quarters. “And I don’t have my wallet,” she said, slapping her hands against her thighs. “That’s great.”
He walked slowly over to where she was standing at the washer, leaned in close to her, and held his card in front of her face with his index and middle fingers. “I got you. You can owe me one.” She went to take it from him, but he wouldn’t let go. She shot him a puzzled look. “Got a name, or should I just call you Beautiful?”
She blushed and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I mean, yeah. That’s why I asked.”
“Amara,” she finally told him.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He smirked, finally letting go of the card so she could take it.
“Thank you. And you are?”
“Hayes,” he said, extending his hand towards hers.
“Your name is Haze?” she asked curiously, grabbing his hand. “Like, H-A-Z-E?”
“My last name, yes. Like, H-A-Y-E-S.” He squeezed her hand on the letter S, and then let go. “That’s what everyone calls me, except my mom. I’m Tyler to her.”
“Well, I’m probably old enough to be your mother, so Tyler it is.”
“Yeah, I figured you must be old. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re fine as hell. It’s just that you brought a bunch of fuckin’ quarters to the laundry room like it’s 2001. I really hate being called Tyler, by the way.”
“Sorry to hear that, Tyler,” she shot him a sideways look as she started loading her clothes into the washer.
“Alright, I see how it is. Amanda.”
“It’s Amara,” she corrected him.
“I know that.”
“Right,” she said, pressing the button on the machine, leaning against it, and crossing her arms. “So, you actually doing any laundry down here or just searching for your next victim?”
He took the lollipop out of his mouth and pointed it toward two machines behind him. “Nine minutes, babe. That’s plenty of time, don’t you think?”
“Mmm, I’m sure it is for you, Thundercat. Well, I’ve got almost an hour, so I’m gonna run up and grab my wallet,” she said, handing him back his card and making her way towards the door. She turned back to face him. “Thanks again. I owe you one, Tyler.”
“No problem. I’m sure we can, uh, figure somethin’ out.” He slowly wrapped his lips around the lollipop, then pulled it out and flicked the tip of his tongue against it a few times, winking at her.
She realized her mouth was open, so she quickly closed it, shook her head, and walked out to get back on the elevator.
Holy fuck. Do only young, hot men live in this building? she thought, opening the door to her apartment.
Speaking of young, hot men: she wondered if Ryan had come back yet, but that question was confirmed quickly.
As she rounded the corner from the kitchen to the living room, she saw him lying flat on his back on the floor in the hallway that led to their bedrooms. His legs were bent at a 90-degree angle and his feet were against the wall. His hands were on his forehead, his breathing labored.
