Song: Shivers - Ed Sheeran
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Hailey
I was debating about all this, wondering if I shall go and demand an explanation out of Nate or let this feeling sink and control me into cowering; but Stella took my hand. "Well, this was a lovely night, but it's kinda late and I have things tomorrow. Hailey, walk me out." and waved faintly at Grayson. "See you around."
"For rematch." he confirmed with that smile of his, even if his eyes travelled towards Nate as well, who was now in the bar pretending we weren't even there. Or at least making sure he kept his attention away from us -from me.
Because some stupid flirting? Something he pushed me into doing?
Because he thought it was an inner joke, but what sense did that make?
Frustrated and uneasy inside, I allowed Stella to pull us and walked her out to wait for a cab. I pursed my lips as the cold air of outside gave me some clarity. "Is it really that late?"
"You tell me." she spun her phone so I could see we were already past midnight and I bit my lip. It was curious how fast time can move and how suddenly the fun can be spoilt.
"Maybe I should come with too." I muttered, not really in the mood to stand Nate's mood and be stuck with him and Grayson on my own now. Not if he was going to be like that. If my back up was bailing maybe I should take the hint as well.
But Stella gave me that smile, the almost ironic smile that told me there was something I wasn't seeing. "Where's your purse?"
I cursed, my hand moving to my side where it should hang, but immediately remembered I'd left it with my jacket and the other's stuff in out table back in. She waved and a cab pulled out before us. "I'll go get it all really fast, you wait."
"Hailey." she cut me, frowning as if debating whether to tell me something or not. "I think you shouldn't go yet."
"What?"
"Not like this."
"Like what?"
"Mad with Nate?"
I gaped. "You're taking his side? You're supposed to be my back-up!"
"I'm not taking anyone's side. I'm just saying... considering you're you, you won't feel that comfortable parting with unfinished business."
As if she knew me that much. But as the sarcastic thought occurred to me, I realized that she did indeed. As upset as I was at the recent fight or whatever that was, I would be tossing and turning if I part ways like that.
Me and my stupid conscience.
A cab stopped before us and I knew this was reaching a parting point. Stella was leaving and I had to stay on my own.
"He wouldn't stop looking at you, you know?" Stella's lips curled as if she was holding back a grin. "It's kinda cute." That shouldn't really make a difference on how he reacted, but somehow it spread a warm electric stirring in the pit of my stomach. "Look, I'm not saying he was right, and for what you said your past is... complicated. But maybe you should talk it out? Get it out of your system."
"You're telling me you took me out here just to tell me I should stay there?"
She smiled faintly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "He wasn't in the mood to listen. Hopefully he's breathed now, cold down."
In just a few minutes? The cab driver honked we looked to see him gesturing impatiently to see if we were getting in or not.
"You sure you don't want me to come?" I insisted. "We can split the expends and feel safer."
She smiled. "Thanks, but no. I'm good on my own and still," she opened the door but didn't get in right away, she leaned over it to whisper. "It looks like you and Nate aren't done yet. I don't do third wheeling."
"Oh no." I giggled, but the ache in my chest burned hotter. "First off, it's not like that. Not anymore. And second, there's Grayson too."
She hummed, her eyes wickedly sparkling. "You mean that Grayson?" I turned just as the bar door opened again and out came the guy, blowing on his hands to warm them against the cold outside in opposition to the heated bar and smiled at us.
"Ladies."
"You're going?" I wondered, eying behind him, but he was coming out alone.
"Stella is kinda right. It's late."
I looked over at the cab when the driver honked again, getting impatient. "Oh my God. Coming." she huffed irritated and sent me another pointed look. "So, that. You know what they say: ashes remain." and like that she was blindly hinting at the messed situation with Nate.
I shook my head. "You're wrong."
"Am I really?" her head tilted and when I failed to retaliate she smiled, bending and getting in the cab. "You know, I've had fun."
"Me too." but it was breathless. All my skin prickling for his words that were strenghtening a feeling I hadn't allowed myself to inspect. "Text me when you get home."
"You too." but her gaze shifted towards the bar once more. "If you remember, that's it. Good night, Hailey. Gray."
Grayson lifted one hand to wave as she smiled one last time and the cab pulled away, then turned at me. "So," he started, probably unknowing how to approach the matter. "That was intense, uh?" and I knew he wasn't talking about the ginger. I shrugged. "How are you?"
What was I supposed to answer? "I'm fine."
Gray grinned coyly. "You know what fine stands for? Fucked up, insecure, needy and emotional."
"Deadpool 2." I identified his quote with a grin and he chuckled, shaking his head, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the wall of the building.
"What? You got every fucking line of every bloody movie memorized?" he scoffed and I giggled. I keep him company while he smoked, making small talk and trying to both find the courage to come back in and to let Nate calm or whatever. After a few chill minutes, Grason finished the cigar and dumped it's butt to stomp on it and he bumped our shoulders. "See you around, yes?"
"Yeah, see you." I watched him go and balanced my options, looking at the bar entrance and remembering the turmoil in those green eyes that burned through me like fire. With so much accusation.
Well, it wasn't like I have much of a choice here.
I needed my purse. That was the only reason I was coming back in. Or so I told myself.
The place was more empty now, making me aware of the late hour. Soft music filled the air and the chatting around contribute to the chill environment. I walked through the main space towards the game zone with clammy hands and a heavy heart. Settled on getting my stuff and go, I entered the room and noticed that the table by the end where we've been for the last couple hours was empty.
A hint of fear shuddered towards me upon not seeing my purse where I left it, but before I could freak out there was the ambient sound of bumping balls over the chatting and music as the pool players keep going and I easily find Nate had moved to one of the empty pool tables instead and was analyzing his next move. My purse was with booth our jackets on an empty chair he'd pulled against the wall to keep an eye on them.
I allowed a second to analyze him from afar, noticing that despites the concentrated frown pursing his brows, he didn't look as worked up anymore. Maybe he needed these moments to calm? Could Stella really read social interactions that well after all?
It didn't matter. I needed my purse and to get away before we said something else we both regret.
Okay, here goes nothing.
Squaring my shoulders, I moved further into the place, as he made another move and balls moved all across the table, bumping softly against one another until one of them get in one of the holes and the tiniest pull tugged Nate's mouth, satisfied. Then her eyes snap up upon hearing my heels and there was this swirling in his orbs I couldn't quite read. Nor was in the mood too.
"Don't worry." I cut when it looked like he wanted to say something. I wasn't sure how I would react to him snapping once more. I was tired, I was mildly drowsy and the good mood of my achievement with Elon now felt tainted. "I just want my things."
"Hailey..." he started as I reached the chair and hung my purse, taking the jacket and carefully folding it over my arm. "You don't have to go yet. I'm sorry if I sounded... pissed. It wasn't at you. That came out all wrong."
"Right." I turned and went to follow my steps backwards, but he'd stood there.
"Come on." Nate had placed the end of his pool stick on the ground, casually leaning there with what looked like a challenging hint in his eyes. He gestured towards the pool table with his chin. "One game?"
Was he kidding? "I should really go."
"Scared to lose?" there it was that small smirk, teasing. Like he knew exactly what button to push to make me react. And he knew it.
I lifted my chin. Spiked by his daring or the drink, I wasn't sure. "I don't lose." Not to you.
"Prove it."
"Are you gonna snap at me again?"
He grimaced. "I didn't snap. That was just... a mistake." A what now? "I'm sorry. Really."
I held the eye contact, trying to read him through but failing miserably. "I don't get you Nate. Like, at all. One second you're fine, then you're closed up, you invite me to come and pushed me to flirt, then you get upset... I'm having a hard time trying to read you here and I'm not even sure I-"
"I don't want to see you flirting with others, okay?" he said fast. His jaw worked as if he really hated voicing that, and he probably did. "I thought it wasn't literal, I thought that even if it was I would be fine with it, but I'm not."
"You're not?"
He held my gaze, like he wanted to say something else, but ended up looking away. "You were right. This is so weird." he really sounded conflicted and frustrated and the initial thoughts of mixed vexation and amusement were quickly vanished from my system, melting into a deeper understanding. "I'm sorry-"
"Don't be."
But he shook his head. "I am sorry. I know I purposed this, and that I had no right, but I don't want to see-"
"It's okay, I get it." I reassured and tilted my head until he looked at me. The ball of nerves and tension in me eased a little, but somehow the butterflies got worst. And the anger. Or so I thought, but it was hard to understand. "I don't think I would want to see you flirt either."
"No?" he wondered, almost doubtful. I shook my head. "Because of our past or our present?"
I wasn't even sure how to answer that to myself, much less to him. And even if I knew, telling Nate didn't seem like the smart choice. I knew that much and it was confirmed when he couldn't help but smile, reading through it and probably coming to his own conclusion, but looking almost eased. To clear the air or that I didn't want to see the situation in reverse.
Why didn't he liked me flirting? He had completely avoided that and brushed it as 'it's weird'. I was about to pry myself, but he shook his head, as if getting rid of the previous bad vibe and smiled more alluringly now.
His lips pulled. "So, a game?"
A game...
He had challenged me, and a part of me wanted to go home and call it a night, but the other... want to see how much could I push this whatever. Maybe if we keep going and he was a jerk I could erase him from my life. Maybe this thrill keeps going and I lose my mind at once.
And also, what the hell? I was tired, but I was also excited. Today it had been a day of victories. The event, Stella, Elon... Go wild for once couldn't hurt. Or could it? I looked to the side towards the table and at the lack of a better response to summarize what I felt I blurted: "Haven't you already start?"
But that only straightened his hint of a smirk into a full one. "That can be easily fixed." and he moved to gather the balls from their scattering across the table.
Yeah, I must definitely have a masochist side, I thought when I found myself settling my stuff back on the chair, hesitating for a long second before gingerly coming to stand by him.
Wincing when the pain in my feet became just too much, I leaned against the side of the table as Nate fixed the table. Carefully, I bent my leg and slip the shoe off, calming the constant aching of the sole of my foot and then an idea occurred to me. The place was so much more intimate now, most of the people were now at the main bar and only a couple groups remain in here and we were at the very back.
Holding the shoe by the heel, I rested the foot flat on the parquet flooring and did the same with the other. The mistreated soles of my feet welcomed the woodblock's coldness with pleasure. A sighed escaped me.
"I don't think that's the most hygienic thing to do." taunted Nate.
"Try being in high heels for hours and then you tell me." I put the shoes on the chair as well and had to look up at him now, my eyes only meeting his shoulder's line.
"My lips are sealed then." he handed over another cue and I took it, rolling it awkwardly between my fingers. It's been a while since I last played pool. "So," Nate said once he'd gathered all the balls back in that triangle mould and set them in their spot as I stood by his side when he straightened, very aware of his scent and body heat and wondered: "Be honest. Any thought about them?"
"The balls?" I glanced at the table. "You aligned them pretty nicely."
But he smiled with a headshake. "About the guys."
"Oh," I said stupidly, confused. Why would he care about my thoughts on his friends? "They're nice." He hummed, not buying my easy response and I smiled. "Grayson is such a nerd."
"Apparently, so are you." he laughed.
"What a shock." I bit my lip nervously. "Dwight doesn't like me very much, tho."
"He doesn't like me very much either. I think it's nothing personal."
"Yeah, he had this... vibe around him. Not a people person?"
"Can't really tell, I only know him for a while." Nate smiled. "But you should have seen him back then when we scored. He looked almost human."
"Did he?"
"All cheering and cursing. A true hooligan."
I chuckled. "Football just brings the worst out of everyone." he gestured for me to go first, but I shook my head. Nate bent, calculation before making the first shook and the moment the white ball hit the perfectly aligned triangle they all went scattering with a pleasant clacking and rolling sound. Yet somehow, all I could focus where the way the sharp muscles of his arms moved along with every move and how it dried my mouth. What the hell?
"And you?" I cleared my throat as he stood and inspect the new distribution. " What do you think of Stella?"
Nate looked over there the table as he stood across from it. "She's very gracious, very chill."
Chill. Not an adjective you would usually use with her, and that alone summerized the whole night around her. She had been... so not her. Smiling more than I'd ever seen her and almost sweet. I never thought she could be less uptight and actually enjoy the moment and I have to confess I liked this version of her. Way more than her usual office demeanor.
I couldn't help a laugh thinking about her competitive side coming out with Grayson and the darts.
"What?" Nate wondered, drawing a small grin himself.
"She's taken a liking in throwing darts now." I teased. "Usually is metaphorically, you know? It must be freeing to actually shoot them for real to an actual aim."
Nate smiled, seeing through my poorly disguised sarcasm and casually leaned preparing for his next shot. I forced my eyes to focus on the balls and not of his beautiful physique. "Does she give you a hard time?"
A hard time? I mean, she wasn't always the nicest, and in the publishing half of the time she was correcting me and the others making pointless comments just for the sake of being in the right. Or was she? Today she'd been cool and chill and she had moments where she could have unleashed her inner bitch. But she didn't. Maybe she was one of those people to whom work stressed them?
"She's better than me." I shrugged. It was bitter to acknowledge the truth, but it was a fact. "And everyone knows it."
"I don't."
I shook my head, standing straighter when he failed to get in any ball and contemplating my next move to brush off the comment. "You haven't read a thing we've written."
I placed my cue on the table, using my left hand to aim and bending my right as I leaned almost all the way in, lightheaded. This would be way easier if hadn't had that last drink. At least the flat footing gained me some balance I would never achieve in heels.
"You can't know that." spoke Nate, turning to rest backwards against the table. "I've been here for a month now and the Weekly is kind of a big thing. I could have read it."
I guess, but the gossip section?
He was just trying to make me feel better. I bit my inner cheek, unable to stop a grin from forming and make the shot, standing to see if I succeed. "Even if you did," I conceded softly. "There's no way you can tell which part is hers and which part is mine. A little spoiler: mostly, she corrects the whole thing, so you've probably just read her doing."
"You're too hard on yourself."
"And you're just bluffing." I grinned when the ball made it to the hole and I had to round the table for a good angle, coming to stand almost where was. Nate's brows shot upwards and I pressed. "Admit you haven't read anything mine."
"Okay, maybe I haven't read anything from the Weekly. But I read your stuff in high school."
I laughed, focussing on the sparkle of humor rather than the memories buried from our time there. "That was years ago. I barely knew a thing back then." I almost cringed, remembering some works back then. "In fact, I think it would be better if you don't read that from me. Not as a reference."
I did my next shot and this time I failed to score any ball, standing up with a little pout of disappointment and turned to look at him. Nate smiled, staring deeply into my eyes for a heartbeat too long, like he was looking for something and there was a heating warm in his green orbs that disarmed me against my best intentions. Scanning me up and down and leaving me to burn, not even concerned about the game or that it was his turn now.
It felt like I always find myself trapped in his gaze.
I tilted my head. "Honestly, why do you keep looking at me like that?"
I also felt like I was always asking him this, but he never once gave me a response that feel like the real one. Not like they were fake, but like he was covering the real reason of his attention. And today's excuse rolled out his tongue easily:
"You're so formal."
The dress. I looked down to the pencil grey dress and realized that now in the bar, within all this casual clothing and sport shirts, I did look formal.
"I'm literally barefoot."
Nate chuckled. And that sound did something within me. "Yeah, I know."
"I had this event." I reminded him and he hummed. I looked up to see the umpteenth once over and couldn't help the tease: "So you weren't checking me out then?"
Nate smiled, not denying it either and something in my stomach spiraled down; shivers shuddering their way down my spine and legs, making me shift lightly in my so said barefoot. Stupid, wrong-timing, basic instincts.
"I read that article about Scarlet's letter." he suddenly said, retaking the previous topic.
The Scarlet letter. And I knew he wasn't talking about Nathaniel Hawthorne's book, but about the polemic article I wrote in senior year about a Comparative Literature's professor -Scarlet Middleton- who actively work for the inclusion of women's works in the student's program, especially in literature and science, and got framed for her 'arrogant' insistence. They sent her a letter, coercing her into giving in and stick to the program or she would be fired. Obviously, she made the letter public and social media became havoc.
It was a big thing when it happened and I wrote the first article, revised and tutored by the Daily Herald editor, but it was the first -and maybe only- big thing I wrote, and I was proud to become a contribution to the program's improvement and readmission of the woman. Now that article had a VIP spot in my portfolio.
The name had been an idea of someone from the Herald's editors who thought it was fitting and catching to hint at the classic novel -and it worked.
"You read that?"
"Yeah."
I was too baffled that he did to even feel the butterflies. I stepped closer without thinking. "And?"
It was ridiculous how much his opinion seemed to matter at the moment, but somehow it did. If he told me he hated it, or that it was sensationalist or shallow...
But he shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "It was good. You made feminist out of me."
I chuckled and his expression brightened. This was so Nate-like, he thrived under the other's approval. But ironically enough, it was him who everyone always wants to orbit around. Like me, like now. And his comment about my jewel article made me way more proud than it should.
"Cheers. My life goal is achieved now." I teased holding up his beer that he'd left on the verge of the table, not even asking as I raised it to my mouth. I burned with the way his eyes burned my lips as they closed around the bottled to take a swing. My confused, contradictory thoughts eased with the fresh bitter taste of it.
"What I mean, is that I liked it." he chuckled brushing his neck almost looking self-conscious. "It was good. But I'm not sure how much my opinion counts on the matter."
"It does." I reassured, not having expected him to be ashamed. "I write for people, so your opinion matters more than you think."
"Because I'm people?" he repeated. "Just for that?"
Was he prying for some kind of deeper confession? Because there wasn't one. But my traitorous cheek burned under his stare and I looked away, not before catching the tug in his lip.
My heart twitched at the question and new intensity in his gaze. There was a pull in the pit of my stomach and for a dazzling second I wasn't sure how to answer. So instead I made my own compromising question: "Why don't you like to see me flirting?"
"Because it's you." Nate said easily and set his cue on the table, neither of us seemed to mind the pool anymore, and with my recent closing the distance I stood now near enough for his fingers to curl on the belt loop on the side of the dress's waist and made me step forward.
"What does that mean?" I could feel my chest fluttered as his hands found my hips and pulled me even closer, suppressing my rational thoughts.
"I asked you first." he said, this time so close his breath fanned my face and I felt my whole body shivering as his hands burned through the fabric of the dress. "Why wouldn't you like me flirting?"
Because he was Nate. He'd been my Nate. One thing was to know things will move on eventually and another one was to actually see it. Maybe if I did, I would stop feeling mushy and cloudy at his touch, presence and scent; but somehow now the mere thought of him getting cozy with another girl triggered my gagging reflex.
"Because it's you." I returned his words, breathless at the realization and he smirked so close it made me want to close my eyes, tangled in his web of charm. It was so unfair. "I should be mad at you."
"You always said that when you're drunk."
"I always think that when I'm sober too." I smiled. "And I'm not even that drunk."
"How drunk are you?"
"Spiked."
He chuckled, pulling me closer so our fronts were almost touching now and my hands come to rest on his chest weakly. This wasn't good but at the moment I really couldn't remember a why.I was standing between his parted legs and his leaning position against the pool table leveled our faces. There was a sweet ache pounding in my guts and I didn't know what to make out of it.
"That's cute." he tilted his head. "Or I can't say that either?"
"Either?"
He hummed, his nose ever so gently grazing my cheek as he spoke and goosebumps spread down my spine. "You don't take well my compliments."
"I-I like them." it was hard to even form a proper sentence. It felt like I was in a dream. "I don't like that they made it hard to keep you away."
I hadn't realized my arms had moved to hand casually around his neck. We were barely a breath away and I closed my eyes, resting my forehead to the side of his neck instead and feeling it moving when he gulped and his embrace readjusted, tightening ever so slightly but firmly.
This was so confusing. A confusing mess.
I was literally telling him I wanted him away when I was too melting into him like it was just the right way to exist: there, against him, together.
What the hell did I want?
I shook my head. "How can you act like we never happen?"
His low voice tickled my ear when he spoke. "Hailey, you're acting like we never happen."
I was? I mean I was also acting like he left me for years with no remorse. Or at least I was trying to. Struggling to.
"Nate." I breathed out lifting my head. My fingers tangled lazily around the collar of his shirt, knuckles brushing his hot skin and both keeping me busy and giving me something solid to hold onto as his lips grazed my cheek with the movement and slid down my neck. I exploded into thousands of sparks and shivers. "You confuse me so much."
"Then let me simplify it for you." his hand slid up my nape to hotly cup my face, seeking my gaze and then I stopped overthinking because his lips were on mine.
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Hey! Here's the second part! I'm dying to know what you think of this chapter!
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