Four days later, I still can't process what Hayden did for me.
The man chased after my mom's boyfriend in the middle of the night. Punched through his glass. Then imprinted his knuckles on his unsuspecting face.
I mean...live, laugh, Hayden.
In summary, my legs might be open.
In other words, I might want him in my esophagus.
No, seriously. That day revealed the messed up part of our families to both of us. The brutal tension between him and his dad versus my mom's boyfriend breaking my car windows...an extra layer of something has developed between us.
Call it trust. Call it unspoken understanding. But something has changed.
So while the days continue and we live under one roof, we see each other in a different light. I learn his little habits, like how he clears his throat when he's uncomfortable, or how he can inhale a thirty ounce steak like it's made of water, then still have room for ice cream.
He gets more talkative when we watch movies. My theory is that it's easier to focus on something else and he doesn't have to make a lot of eye-contact.
We also fight every time we play board games. I'm pretty sure our neighbors can hear us. Milo's blood pressure goes up, but it's not my fault that his dad is a sore loser.
My car is still at the body shop, getting repaired. So on Friday, when Hayden once again goes to his nightly gym session, I decide to go with him.
He's been taking me to work every morning (because he's so nice), but this is our first time going to the gym together. So wish me luck.
I'm dressed like Adam Sandler, with my hair up and no makeup. I'm there for gains. Harry and Edwin are getting married soon and mama needs to look good.
Hayden? Hayden belongs in the fridge for being such a snack.
The brooding beast stands tall in black, knee-length shorts and a sleeveless, loose shirt. Every time I look at him, I want to volunteer to be thrown over his shoulders like a bag of potatoes.
Stomp on me.
"I'll see you later," he says as we enter his huge, air-conditioned gym (I got a free pass). He puts his AirPods on and moseys over to where the treadmills are to warm up.
I do my usual ten minute stretches in the yoga area, doing my absolute best to ignore his existence. Emphasis on doing my best.
He doesn't even look my way. Not even once. Edwin and Harry were clearly delusional when they said that Hayden was into me.
Is it because I look like Adam Sandler? It is, isn't it? I should've dressed slutty.
"Excuse me?" A friendly looking fella squats to talk to me, when I'm suffering on the leg press machine later. "How many sets do you have left?"
"Just one more," I say cheerfully.
"Okay, cool." He lingers around for the next minute or so, waiting for me to finish.
Now I have an audience, so I'm putting even more pressure on myself to hit a new weight record. I've seen those videos of people's knees breaking inward from pushing too far on the leg press machine. I'm tiptoeing on the line of becoming one of them.
As soon as I'm done, I wobble out and stand, but when I turn to leave, Hayden is blocking me.
I flinch back, hand to my chest.
He looks away. "Everything good?"
"Yeah, why?"
He's scanning the area like he might piss on someone. "No reason."
Don't tell me he's...oh.
I look over my shoulder to find the innocent dude who wanted to use the leg press machine take my spot, completely oblivious of someone eyeing him.
"What?" Hayden scowls at my knowing smile. He's worse than Milo.
"Did you come over here, because you thought he's hitting on me?"
"No. Why would you think that?"
"Mhm."
He leans down to whisper in my ear, one hand on the side of my waist. (Excuse me while I have a stroke from butterflies). "Did you forget that you're supposed to be mine? If someone we know is watching, what would they think?"
"You're right. Next time someone asks me how many sets I have left, I'll tell them you'll break their jaw. How dare they."
"You didn't see how he was checking you out."
Delusional soul. "In this outfit?"
He drags his gaze over me. "It doesn't matter."
My eyes widen. "Wait, should we be acting like a couple right now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are there people here that you know?"
He looks around. "Probably."
"Why didn't you said anything!" I smack his arm.
"We're working out."
"Oh my God, shut up. Be cute. Show me affection."
"What?" His scowl only deepens.
"Wow, check out these guns..." I squeeze his tight bicep. Hayden's face is priceless. "I wonder if the rest of you is this big."
"Shut the fuck up." He chuckles. It's his 'I'm embarrassed, but flattered' laugh.
"You look so hot, you make me want to sit down." I whisper in his ear. "And I'm not talking about a chair."
"Hazel." The smile he's fighting back makes me want to continue.
"Yeah?"
His gaze lingers on my mouth. "Behave."
My hoo-ha gets her own heartbeat from that rich, sensual warning. The funny thing is that I completely forgot how terrible I look.
"You know, if someone saw us in public, they wouldn't think you care about me at all," I say to him on our drive back home. "I'm just saying. If we're meeting that interior designer next week, you need to practice. Otherwise, there's no point to any of this."
"I don't know how."
"Well, what did you do when you were with Astrid? Not that it's the same, but we need a starting point."
"I wasn't affectionate towards her."
Oh, I forgot. The reason he dated her was for Harry. I still think that's wrong. "Okay, what is the point of dating someone if you're not affectionate? Even friends are affectionate towards each other."
"We weren't friends."
"Okay, past girlfriends. Before her."
"I didn't have..." He sighs. "I had a long-distance relationship for six months. It didn't last. Before that...I was working every day. I didn't have a lot of time."
"Was work really the only reason for that?"
"No."
I wait for him to elaborate.
"I don't know. I've never been able to connect with someone...on that level."
"What level is that?" I ask.
"Beyond the physical attraction. Someone I'd be interested to hang out with and talk to all the time."
"You have Harry."
"I don't want to fuck Harry." He snaps.
"Oh, so you want friends with benefits."
"No." He sighs like he's sick of me. "No. Harry and Edwin are friends, but they're also...more than that."
"Ooooh, you're talking about soulmates." I wave him off. "Honey, we all want that. Welcome to the club. Grab a seat. You'll be waiting forever."
How did we even start this conversation? I forgot what we were talking about. Oh! Affection.
"Well, we're friends..." I say to him. "Why can't you show me some friendly affection?"
He groans, rubbing his face.
"What?" I whine. "What is it now? Huh?"
"Just stop talking." He raises the music volume.
I lower it. "You said she can ruin your entire reputation, right? So what do you need? Do you need to drink a little bit to loosen up? Smoke? Snort? Twerk? Eat salsa?"
"I'm just bad at faking shit, alright? It's hard for me to pretend."
"Well, ouch. I didn't realize it's that difficult to find me attractive."
He parks in his driveway and shuts off the engine, but instead of exiting the car, he turns towards me.
Suddenly, the space between us is insanely limited and my lung capacity is reduced to zero.
"Look at me." He tilts his head with irritation.
"What?" I cross my arms, now uncertain.
"If I like something, I keep it. It's very hard to change my mind." His gaze burns into me. "But because of you, I don't wear my Apple Watch anymore. Not once did Astrid give me that problem. It took you five minutes to make me hate that thing."
"Why not?" I ask with a knowing smile.
"You know exactly why." He rolls his eyes, opening the door. "Don't act like you don't know."
"Excuse me? You can't just say something like that, then just walk away!" I scramble after him. We go inside his house, but he's moving towards the bathroom. "Hellooo? Wait a second!"
"Oh my God, what?" He stops.
"So what? Is it my fault? Why are you giving me attitude for finding me attractive?"
"I'm not giving you attitude!"
"But you let me live here as long as I make you look good, right? Well, how am I supposed to do that, if you don't play along with me? Do you want this to fail?"
He curses under his breath. "What do you want?"
"Huh?"
"What do you want from me?" He steps closer suddenly. I stumble back, but he keeps coming. "Want me to kiss you when we're in public? Is that what you want?"
"N-no." My back meets the wall. The scent of his sweaty gym session and fresh cologne mess with my head. It's hard to focus. To think clearly. To breathe.
"Then what do you want? Hm?" He bends to my height and tilts his head in a mocking manner. Brown eyes have never been more unnerving. "What should I do to you?"
I say something, I think. Or not. I might've just made a sound. I'm not sure.
"Want me to play along? Fine." He lifts my chin up with one finger, watching me lose my breath. He holds eye-contact like no one has ever done before. "But I'm not going to be fake."
If this is making me feel lightheaded, I'm scared to find out what kissing him will do to me.
"What does that mean?" I ask. He lowers his hand as I get angry. "You think you act aloof when we're in public while I throw myself all over you? Uh-uh. I didn't agree to being some desperate girlfriend who doesn't know her own worth."
"I never said that-"
"I don't chase boys. I get chased. You want to be my fake-boyfriend? Then you better earn it."
He deadpans. "Hazel-"
"If you think women are going to be impressed by you acting like an ass, you couldn't be more wrong. Women want men who worship the ground they walk on, but also know how to make their eyes roll to the back of their heads. That's the only man I'm willing to date. Fake date."
"Right." He smirks at my mistake. "Okay. Any other rules, your highness?"
"I can write you a novel, but we both know you don't know how to read."
His expression hardens into delicious threat. "Is that right?"
I lean against the wall for support, my body aching for him to touch me.
His chest rises and falls. His eyes get that crazed, restrained look in them. Like there's a ticking time bomb and I'm holding the button, and he's waiting for me to click it.
"Can we face the giant elephant in the room?" I suggest. "We both find each other attractive, let's not act dumb."
His eyes widen, but he doesn't argue. Is that fear in his gaze? I can't tell for certain.
"Friends find each other attractive all the time." I lie. "So what? We're adults. We can handle it. We both need each other. So let's do this right. Let's stay focused. We can deal with everything else after the wedding. Let's not complicate things more than they already are."
"I agree." His jaw clenches.
We stare at each other.
"Do you?" I ask.
He leans closer, causing my heart to jump. Our noses touch as he stares dead into my eyes. "Yes."
"Then stop turning me on, Jesus Christ."
"Am I turning you on?" He coos.
I push him away and he chuckles, turning to go to the bathroom. "Yeah, go to the bathroom. We both know you've got a lot of pent up sexual frustration to release."
"So do you." He bites back.
"I take care of my business, baby. Every night."
"Jesus..." He shuts the bathroom door behind him, muttering. "I did not need to know that."
"You do now!" I yell, pressing my ear against his door. "Don't act like you don't think about me! I know you do."
"Hazel, fuck off!"
I give him ten seconds of peace... "Are you thinking of meee?!"
He curses death threats and I laugh, skipping to the other bathroom.
A/N
Next chapter, we're meeting the interior designer ya'll. And um, we might go back to the BDSM club, this time with our 'aloof' boyfriend. Let's see...
If you like their chemistry, hit that VOTE button please <3