Page 48 of Fall Apart

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to block the mental image of her using that toy. “Anyways, I’m going to get to bed. It’s been a long day.” I take the last sip of my drink and set the glass on the island behind me.

Her eyes meet mine and her smile falters. “Oh.” Her voice is almost a whisper. She rubs her hands before clapping them together once. “No problem. I should probably catch up on some work and get to bed too.” Her halfhearted, plastered on smile digs a hole in my chest. Does she really like hanging out with me? Was she actually looking forward to being aroundme?

No. No one actually likes being around me.

This is for the best.

“Thanks for his sweater, Lizzy. Night,” I say gruffly, not meeting her eyes. I turn towards the hallway, but I swear I hear another whisper behind me that hits me right in my heart.

Goodnight, Clay.

CHAPTER 23

LIZZY

YOU’RE EVERYWHERE

I prymyself out of bed, thankful that I get to work fromhome -well, Clay’s house - today. I’m tired and groggy after barely sleeping last night. I’ve slept great here every night until last night. Something about the way Clay was distant and just took off for bed didn’t feel right. It seemed like we were starting to genuinely enjoy each other's company. Was it something I did?

No playful comebacks, no flirting, not even a scowl or an eye roll. Justnightand walking off to bed.

We even talked about the other night. We said we could be adults and be friends. I like our friendship or whatever we’re going to call it. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever felt good about opening up to. It felt like I was being worshipped for being me for a change. And he takes it and runs with it, pushing back and playing with me. And those things he said in bed, I’ve never been praised like that.

But to just slink away like he did last night? He was so different last night. Not the moody, cocky, asshole Clay I first met. And not the fun, almost sweet one I’ve started to see. He wasn’t him.

Whatever it was, I hope it was just him in a mood and not how he’s going to be going forward. Because the one thatsaw methe other night, I want more of that Clay in my life.

After changing out of my pajamas into some yoga clothes for some morning stretching, I open the door, nearly tripping on a sleeping Ani, curled into a ball at the foot of my door.

“Oh! Hey, bud.” He stirs and wags his tail, following me to the kitchen. “Let’s go find your dad.”

Heading down the hall, I peak into the office.

No Clay, but I see something sitting on the floor. I groan, irritated that Clay’s already rubbing off on me this much. I walk over to the desk, grabbing the paper off the floor and putting it back on the desk.

See, Clay? I can be neat and tidy too.

I set it back down, noticing that it’s my scribbled notes about the invoices he asked me to look into. He wasn’t wrong to ask. It is weird. Which is funny, because that’s what’s written in his beautiful, cursive script underneath my note.That’s weird, right?

It seems like they only get these consultant’s invoices on projects that were completed under budget. You’d think they’d use them on all their projects and throughout the scheduled work, not just at the end. I’ll definitely talk to him about this more later, but right now, I want coffee.

I set the note down, putting a paperweight on it so it doesn’t end up on the floor again. You’re welcome, Clay.

When I make it to the kitchen, there’s no sign of him to be found, which is weird because this is when we’d normally start our yoga workout. I head to the coffee maker. I start a pot and grab my mug, noticing a note on the kitchen island.

No yoga today. Headed in early and staying late. Working on your condo. We’ll get you back in ASAP.

Somehow,that hurts a little. Is he already that tired and irritated with me and wants me gone? Or can he not handle being friends any more?

I crumple up the note, throwing it in the trash. I’m stronger than that. I don’t need to worry about what he thinks. I’m not letting someone else define me anymore. That is the postTour de Lizzymotto. I’m always me and no one is going to make me feel bad about that.

After finishing my coffee, I do my yoga with Ani next to me on his bed. “You can be my accountability buddy if your dad’s going to be a jerk and avoid me.”

He huffs and seems to sink deeper into his bed. Maybe it’s just me, but I think he looks stylish and comfortable in his new sweater. I watch as he yawns and drifts back to sleep.

“You’re lucky. I wish I could go back to bed.”

Except I find myself thinking that I probably won’t get much sleep if I keep thinking about a certain, tall, handsome, confusing man.

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