He left later that evening, taking the life of the apartment with him. I stayed up late, scrolling my phone, my ears alert for the front door. Nothing.
By midnight, I was annoyed, tossing in bed.
"Why do I care where he is?" I muttered. “He’s just some guy.”
But the thought of him with someone else twisted my gut. I woke up pissed, the morning sun too bright.
“Get a grip, Kaylor,” I said, throwing on a loose tank top, no bra, and shorts and headed out my room. I slammed a mug down for coffee, muttering, “Where the hell is he?”
The door clicked open at ten. Aaron strolled in, shirtless, sweatpants low, hair messy like he’d been out all night.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, dropping his gym bag. “You look ready to kill me.”
“Rough night,” I snapped, stirring my coffee. “You were ou
