“First of all – ew. Very, very ew. Huge ew. Gigan-”
“I get the point.”
“Right. Second. . .” My voice trails off as I suddenly become extraordinarily embarrassed about why I'm here. In Walt's apartment. What was I thinking? He isn't going to help me.
“And second?” he encourages impatiently.
I heave a sigh, deciding to just get it out there already. Unless I actually want to have sex with him, there's no other valid reason as to why I would be here. “I wanted to know if you knew whether Aleix was okay or not.”
His face loses all of that coldness, all of that harshness, as soon as I mention his brother's name. I've noticed that, that he seems to really care about Aleix in a way I hadn't even realized he was capable of. Honestly, I'd kind of suspected he didn't actually have a heart. Just a lump of clay or play doh or ball of licorice or something. I wait for him to be an ass, to make fun of me or say something sarcastic, but he doesn't. “Aleix is fine. When was the last time you spoke to him?”
It's my turn to shrug. I lean against the back of his leather sofa, staring down at the wooden floor. “Later ago. He hasn't answered any of my calls. I thought maybe he. . .I don't know, maybe he was sick or something. It was stupid. I don't know.”
He's silent, and when I finally gather the courage to look up at him I find not a trace of ridicule in his eyes like I'd expected. He just appears genuinely confused. “He's stopped contacting you?”
Now I feel really foolish. If Walt doesn't know anything about Aleix being sick then it's probably because he's not sick. Or hurt. He's just done with me. We don't even know each other that well – I only see him when he's working in the city, and it's not like I've ever even been to his house or anything. “Yeah.” I start moving towards his door. “I'm sorry. Coming here was a mistake. Can we just pretend this didn't happen? I guess I was confused-”
“Ibbs,” he calls after me, and it immediately stops me in my tracks because he's never called me that before. With him it's always a mocking nickname, like princess, and that's if he even bothers to address me at all. Hearing him call me Ibbs is strange – like a term of endearment that sounds foreign coming from his lips. He seems to realize this too, because he fumbles over his next words. “Ib. . .I mean, Ibbie. . .I mean. . .” He sighs. “Just let me give him a call, okay? There's probably a good reason for this. Aleix likes you, trust me. I had to fuckin' hear about it for days. And even if he doesn't wanna hang with you anymore, he's a good guy. I'm sure he would've talked to you about it.”
I hesitate, but eventually give him the go ahead. One way or another, it would be nice to just know.
“He's not answering me either,” he announces a minute later, a little furrow forming between his brows.
“Okay, well I'm gonna go-”
“Wait,” he interrupts almost desperately, like he really doesn't want me to leave. Who is this guy? “I was headed down to my grandparents' house in a while for dinner – we always have dinner together once a week. Aleix should be there too, and even if he's not, he lives in the same town as them. Come with me and we can find out what his deal is.”
I shake my head violently, because that does not sound like a valid plan. I mean, I liked Aleix and all, but we only hung out for a few weeks. Stalking him all the way to his grandparents' house? No frigging way. “It's fine, Walt. You go, and I guess if you see him just tell him to call me or something-”
“Come on, Ibbie.” When he smiles at me, it's so unbelievably captivating. It's not perfect and charming like Aleix's deal winner smile – in fact, it's crooked and devious and full of sin – but when it's aimed my way, it makes me feel like I'd agree to anything in the whole wide world. It's the first time he's ever smiled at me instead of smirking. “It's only an hour away. Live a little. Come on an adventure with me.”
I take a step back, because I'm not sure I can handle this Walt. The mean, cold, butt head Walt – sure. The sweet, decent, persuasive one – nuh uh. Not on my watch. “I have a show tonight.”
“So call in sick. You have an understudy for things like that, right? It's just one show.”
I hesitate again, because this seems like a really bad idea. And yet he's making it sound like a really good one. How does he do that? “I don't-”
“Look, worst case scenario – Aleix ain't there and you get to stay for dinner. My grandma makes the best pot pie, I swear.”
Actually, the worst case scenario seems like it would be me turning up and Aleix calling me a freak and a stalker. “You want me to have dinner with your grandparents?”
“Sure.” I don't know who this Walt is. This Walt that smiles at me and invites me to family dinner and is nice to me and seems like he genuinely wants to help me. It's eerie. But at the same time, I find that I. . .that I trust this Walt. Is that stupid? Maybe. But I still do.
“Mehkay,” I hear myself saying. And even though I feel like I'm going to regret this, I don't take my mediocre acceptance back. Especially not after he grins at me like I've made him truly happy. “Let me just call the director.”
He nods. “I'm gonna go wash up.”
The director, Ian, picks up on the very first ring. He's the kind of guy who has his phone practically superglued to his ear. He seems particularly suspicious about my chosen excuse. “You only just remembered it was your mom's birthday?”
“I'm a very bad daughter,” I confirm.
“Hold up, didn't your mom have a birthday last month?”
“Um.”
“Your mom seems to have a lot of birthdays, don't she?”
“She's like the queen that way.”
Luckily for me, I've caught him in a very good mood. He's probably been boinking his assistant again. “Look, I know how much you love the show, so I'm gonna go ahead and assume that whatever it is that you need to do tonight is important. But just this once, you hear me? Call in with an excuse one more time and you're fired. Seriously. I want you here even if your arms and legs have dropped off and you're having to drag your limbs in behind you with your teeth.”
I cringe at the imagery. “Thank you, Ian! Loveyouloveyouloveyou!”
He hangs up.
The shower is running somewhere in Walt's apartment, and I want desperately to use the opportunity to check out his artwork. But I resist, mainly because I like nice Walt and I don't want him to catch me snooping and revert back to the asshole version of himself.
When he appears a few minutes later, my mouth drops open at the sight of him. In his tan slacks and his blue and white striped shirt and with his hair combed neatly back, he looks. . .normal.
But as handsome as he looks, I find that I miss the regular old Walt. The one with the ripped jeans and the too tight t-shirts and the spiky hair.
“What?” he demands self consciously when I can't stop staring. He hasn't taken the eyebrow rings out. I'm glad about that. “I told you we're going to my grandparents' place. I gotta look smart or I won't hear the end of it off of Grandma.” There's something so fond in his voice when he talks about her, and it makes me melt. Just a little bit.
“You do look nice,” I assure him. “PFM.”
“What now?”
“Pure friggin' magic. You've transformed from the devil into a nice young man.”
He just shakes his head at me, like he has no idea what I'm about. I find most people tend to look at me that way when I talk.
I glance down at my jeans and baggy cardigan, then up at him again. This will not do. “Okay, if I'm meeting your grandparents then we have to stop by my apartment first. I so need to change.”
Chapter 5
Walt
“YOU LOVE YOUR grandparents a lot, huh?” Ibbie asks from the passenger seat as we make the hour long drive out of the city.