Crossing Lines

Chapter 12 - Hayden

Honestly, I expect her to rip my head off for the stunt I pulled. But she seems to listen to me, her head tilted while her eyes gaze straight into my soul, looking for answers I definitely owe her. I feel like I'm on trial, like every word I say decides my future with this enigma of a woman in front of me.

"I couldn't say anything because you saw me, Mila. And I mean me, Hayden Cross, the person. Not Ice, the quarterback. It felt good and new. It felt different." Suddenly, I feel like a student confessing his sins to his teacher; the way she pushes up her glasses and studies me with intent gives her a powerful aura. "I didn't want to ruin that by bringing the whole celebrity thing in there. So, I'm sorry. I know you probably hate me right now, but at the time, it felt like the right move," I concede. "I need to say something else too, before you say anything." I look at her again, and damn, her entire appearance was forged by the gods to tease me. She looks so fucking delicious, a forbidden fruit adapted to my liking, alluring me with its grace. "You look ravishing, Lucky."

She blushes like crazy, hiding her face in the jersey as she glances down at her hands. I suddenly wonder who did that to her, who took her confidence, her self-assurance and self-worth.

"I'm serious," I reassure her. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She finally faces me, coming out of hiding as she straightens herself, eyeing me suspiciously. "Thank you." I can't help but grin when she shows that shy smile, a smile that hides so much more than just her insecurities. "You know..." She regards her hands again and pulls at her fingers with a sigh. "I understand why you did it, and I'm not angry about that."

It takes a moment to register her words, to understand what exactly they mean. "Wait, what?"

"I said, I understand." Another smile graces her lips as she looks up at me, and I almost shake my head to clear my mind, to comprehend what exactly she wants to tell me. "I understand that you value your privacy, that you wanted to be your own person, without the character everyone knows. Not that I would've known who you are if you told me your full name, but still...I get it. I've told you who I am and what I do and that I value my privacy. Probably for different reasons than you, but I still do." She plays with the hem of that damn football jersey, her eyes following her every move. 

"I'm not angry that you did it, honestly. Because like I said, I understand your motivation. But do you know what actually hurts me?" Her words pierce straight into my heart, her voice so full of emotion. "That I opened myself up to you. I told you who I am, told you about my artistic identity, which isn't something I do easily. I told you I'd be going to this game, and you knew. You knew I'd figure it out there. But instead of being honest with me and saving me from quite the shock in the middle of a big-ass stadium, surrounded by thousands of people, instead, you chose to put yourself first."

Fuck.

I sound like the biggest goddamn douche in this universe when she phrases it like that.

"But I also understand that. Because everyone should think of their own sanity before they sacrifice it for the sake of someone else's, especially someone they just met." There's that understanding smile on her face again when her eyes dive straight into my soul, like she's trying to make sure I hear her. "Still, Hayden...I gave you something. I gave you my honesty, and you just went and stomped on it."

I'm goddamn speechless. Because I didn't expect those raw, honest words. Never in my life did I think I'd get this reaction from her. It makes me wonder what else this woman has in store, which traits she hides beneath that facade of insecurity and shyness.

"I...I don't know what to say, Mila. Other than I'm really fucking sorry I betrayed your trust like that. I appreciated your honesty when you told me who you were, and I realize I should've said something, but as I said, it feels like you see me for who I am."

She sits up straight now, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she chimes in, "And you thought I wouldn't if I knew who you were?"

Fucking hell, this woman... "I just didn't want to scare you away before I got closer to you. Because so far, I really like what I'm uncovering."

A faint blush creeps into her cheeks until she composes herself, clearing her throat before she speaks again. "I guess I understand that." The way she says it, followed by a sigh, makes me wonder what else is on her mind. It seems like she's struggling with something she's not ready to tell me.

"I'm sorry you had to find out during the game. I saw you rushing out of there, and the last thing I wanted was to spoil that experience for you."

"You didn't," she immediately chimes in.

"I didn't?"

She carries half a smile on her lips as she answers, "No."

"Then why did you hurry out of there like that?"

Pushing up her glasses, she redirects her gaze to the orange sky in front of us, her words almost inaudible as she whispers, "That's a story for another day." I watch how she runs her fingers through her hair, the movement almost rhythmical, like she's trying to calm herself with it. "How did you even find me?" she suddenly asks, stopping her motion to turn and face me.

"Sometimes the sky is our only reality." The second the words leave my lips, a smile graces her beautiful face. It's a surprised but appreciative smile, lighting up the night like the sun that just set, and it radiates through my body with a rippling intensity. "It's from your book," I clarify.

Her smile grows even wider. "I can't believe you remembered that," she admits with a whisper.

"I might've hit my head a few times on the field, but even that couldn't make me forget anything about you, Mila."

Our eyes lock at that moment, and I so badly want to kiss her again; it's the only thing I can think about ever since that night. But I know I'm in dangerous territory right now, and I don't want to push her too far.

"You're quite good with words, Cash."

I can't help but laugh at the surprise in her voice, not that I can blame her. "Same goes for you, Lucky."

For a moment we just look at each other, and the more I look at her, the more I see that something else is occupying her mind, the insecurity in her eyes more blatant than it ever was.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" I whisper the question.

Her lips curl up as she seems to mull over my words, her eyes directed skyward. "I don't want to go back to my room yet. I love nights; they're peaceful. The world comes to a stop, and it feels like I can finally breathe without the weight of the day on my shoulders."

I stare at her, taking in her unearthly appearance for as long as I can, until she turns around, her eyes sparkling with a sense of serenity.

"I don't want you to go back to your room yet, either," I concede.

Her smile brightens at my words, illuminating the atmosphere around us right with it. She's brighter than the goddamn sun itself. "I guess I'll just stay here, then."

"Would you mind if I stayed with you?" I have to ask. I have to grasp every straw I can get.

She regards me for a second before nodding, her eyes now directed at the sight in front of us again. I lay my arm over the headrest, watching her reaction as she leans her head on my shoulder and stares out into the clear night sky, the faint orange on the horizon the only reminder of the sun that just set.

Some might say the New York skyline by night is the most beautiful thing on earth, but I can't bring myself to look at it. Because right now, all I can look at is the sun itself, morphed into this woman in front of me, her existence claiming my sole attention.

Suddenly, it's like the stars aligned, like everything has finally set into place. Life is light, easy, and peaceful.

But I should've known that peace is a rare virtue in this life, one that has its price.

Because nothing worth having comes easy.