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That joke I made yesterday about killing him. It’s gonna happen. If Grant thought I was annoyed meeting his parents while I looked like a fresh turd, he is in for a surprise today. Because I am beyond annoyed today. I am irritated.
He won’t let me have coffee. Coffee! My life blood. He keeps handing me tea after tea. Saying that tea will help my throat and make me feel better. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I don’t care. Everything in me is crying out for a strong cup of coffee.
But he keeps telling me no. You know what that does? It makes me want it more.
So, I’ve hatched a plan. I’m breaking out of this bedroom and making my way to the Holy Grail of caffeine. Hence, why I was peeking around corners, trying to stealthily make my way to the kitchen. Why did his bedroom have to be the farthest room down the hall? This was going to be tricky.
The apartment was quiet. Grant had left the bedroom where we were watching The Great British Bake-Off to take a phone call. He hadn’t taken a day off from training, but he hadn’t gone to the arena like he usually would have. Instead, one of the trainers had come here and they had disappeared for awhile in the condo gym. I am still feeling tired today, but better. My head didn’t feel as fuzzy and my cough is under control. My throat still hurt but I won’t let that stop me. He’d made the signal for me to keep the show going, leaving the room so he wouldn’t bug me. It was kind of him, but foolish too. Left unattended I am going to get up to no good.
Seeing the coast was clear, I tip-toed down the hall, pressing myself against the wall when I reached the end. Slowly, so slowly, I angled my body so I could see into the open concept kitchen. It’s empty. From this spot, I can smell the coffee Grant had made for his trainer and himself this morning but denied me. Like a monster, he’d only had one cup – black – and drank it quickly in front of me. If flu meds hadn’t been buzzing in my brain, making me a little loopy, I would have jumped him for the hot java.
I take a deep breath, mucus crackling in my chest, before I spin and rush for the coffee pot. I have a mug in my shaky hand and the carafe in the other when the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I’m being watched. Turning my body slowly, I come face-to-face with Mr. Judgey-Pants. The cat formerly known as Prince.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I start to say, but he’s not buying it. His tail flicks across the island counter. The attitude in that one move is offensive. “Look, I just need a quick fix. I won’t drink much. I promise.” Again, he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. “Screw you,” I cry, and defiantly pour the hot liquid. Giving a sassy tilt of my head – which is a bad move because it makes me dizzy – I mentally tell Prince where he can shove it and make my way to the fridge.
I fall a little bit more in love with Grant when I see that he bought my favorite creamer. I don’t think I’ve ever told him how I like my coffee, but he’s observed me enough to know I take it very seriously. Pouring a large amount and stirring it quickly, I bring the mug up to my lips.
“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what you do?”
There’s no time for me to savor the sweet liquid, I take large gulps. My throat burns, making me cough. Coming to me, Grant grabs the mug so it doesn’t slip out of my hands as I try to catch my breath. I cover my mouth with the back of my hand as the coughing dies down.
“You’re crazy,” Grant shakes his head at me, a small smiling tipping the corners of his lips.
“I really needed a coffee.”
“You could have had a coffee anytime. It’s this creamer I’m worried about. Dairy doesn’t help the cough you have. Clearly.”
“That was your fault. And Prince’s. Sneaking up on me the way you did.”
“You really are feeling better,” his hands wrap around me, bringing me in close. The tight squeeze of his arms feels good, reassuring. He kisses my forehead. “And it feels like your fever’s gone.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, loving the feeling of security he brings me. “I feel a ton better. I’m going to call Cassidy today and see about working.”
Extending his arms so he can look down at me, Grant is already shaking his head. “Lexi, you need to give yourself more time to rest.”
“I can’t.” Pulling out his arms completely I reach for my discarded mug, needing to do something with my hands. “I still have bills to pay. I made commitments.”
“I know that but there’s no harm in letting some of those commitments end when you’re finished with a contract. You don’t have to keep agreeing to go back just because they ask you and you think you need the money.” I feel myself tense. He’s right. I don’t need to be taking on as much as I am just because I’m afraid of letting someone down.
“You’re right.”
“In the words of the woman who drives me up the wall sometimes, I know.”
Giving him a weak punch in the arm, I go back to my coffee. I wasn’t good at lying or keeping secrets from those I care about. Since Grant entered that circle of trust, it had been hard to not share with him some of the burden I felt now.
“Since you’re feel a little better and there is no right way to say this, I need to tell you that I think your apartment was broken into.”
I hesitate, blinking in bafflement. Was I hearing him right?
“When your Super called me to tell me you were sick, he said something about you’re A/C unit looking like it was hit. When I thought back on it, I also noticed that your kitchen had been messed up. That’s what I had been doing when you woke up that first time. I thought maybe a shelf had broken and you hadn’t had time to fix it. But it was strange that everything with a lid was opened and discarded.” He curses, running a hand over the back of his neck. For the first time since I’ve known him, Grant looks mad. It’s not shame that washes through me but disappointment. In myself.
“The door,” I say. My voice is weak in fear, not sickness now. “I was talking to Luna on the phone and noticed my door was damaged before I walked in. I forgot with the A/C stuff and getting sick.” Running a hand through my knotted hair, I try to think what I need to do. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll figure it out. You don’t have to worry about it anymore. It’s just everything that happened with Cassidy…and the calls that I keep getting.”
“Lexi, when are you going to get it through that thick skull that I’m always going to worry about you. You’re constantly pushing me away, keeping things from me. It’s okay to show me your vulnerable side Lex. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You say that now,” I blurt out. There’s a pressure building in my throat, in my chest that aches to be released. It’s not a cough. It’s a confession. “You say that now,” I repeat in a softer voice. “We’ve only known each other for a couple months. Everything is still new and shiny between us. You say you won’t leave but what happens when your season starts up? Sooner or later you’re going to get tired of me, of my crazy schedule and lack of planning.” My words trail off, a hitch in my throat.
