Page 88 of Shamed
Ilean a shoulder against the doorframe of Jayne’s bedroom, watching as she zips up a bag, her hair hanging in loose waves down her back.
Ever since the blonde roots started showing a couple of days ago, I’ve been wondering what it would look likenatural. I’ve gotten so used to the chocolatey brown color that I can hardly remember what it looked like in high school.
A section falls over her shoulder when she leans forward, the strands making me wonder what they’d feel like between my fingertips. What scent would float into my nose if I dipped my head there and inhaled?
I snap myself out of those thoughts and adjust my shoulder against the doorframe.
“How long have you been dyeing your hair?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Gray eyes land on me over her shoulder before she looks away, touching the ends of her hair almost self-consciously. “About two years.”
The same amount of time she’s been working at that shithole. My gaze slides down to her forearms covered in layers, thinking for the hundredth time about the cuts underneath and when she might have started making them.
“It’s odd how, after barely two weeks, my apartment can feel so foreign,” Jayne says, pulling my eyes from her arms and stopping the questions from tumbling out.
Two weeks. Has it really only been that long since she moved into my apartment? I guess when two people are forced to spend all their free time together, time gets altered. Things move faster, yet slower.
I internally scoff.Forced. The only forcing on my end was me forcing myself into her life.
I glance around her room, thinking about what she said.
A similar feeling has been plaguing me lately, only in my case, it feels foreign when I think about my apartment without her in it. She’s made it a home, her presence there a comfort, even though I’ve had to push myself harder at the gym, and my fingers are turning more calloused from nights playing my guitar.
I’m becoming entirely too used to her being with me.
And I know I need to cut off thoughts like that. I need to create space again.
Someone like me can’t keep someone like her.
Jayne huffs a laugh, looking past me into the living area. “Of course, it could have to do with all the work equipment scattered about.”
I glance behind me, looking at the gaping hole in the ceiling and the mess they’ve made everywhere, then back to her room. “At least they haven’t dirtied your bedroom.”
Nodding, she hoists the bag onto her shoulder. “I think that’s everything.”
When she steps toward me, I take the bag from her hand, seeing the protest on the tip of her tongue before she swallows it down and accepts my help.
She’s been doing that a lot more lately.
Sweet coconut swirls around me as she passes and I breathe in deeply; half obsessed with the scent. I thought it was from the bodywash I got her, but now I’m wondering if it’s her hair.
“If you forgot anything, we can always stop by again.”
Jayne nods, giving a half smile. “I’m going to let Clint know that we’re done in here, then we can go home.”
Home.It appears I’m not the only one who’s been having those types of thoughts lately. The type where my apartment is home and she belongs there.
After my last encounter with Clint, I figure it’s best that I don’t go with her intoBudz!, and instead take her bag to the truck while I wait.
Jayne seems extra fidgety after we start driving, her fingers twisting in her lap.
The radio has been filling in the background noise, but halfway through the drive, I switch it off. “Everything okay?”
Her fingers cease moving as she turns to me. “It’s just . . . are you sure it’s okay for me to keep staying? I can get a hotel or something.”
I’m shaking my head before she’s even finished the ridiculous suggestion. “No. I’m more than happy to help.”
“Are you sure?”
