I wake up the next morning, both physically and emotionally drained.
Because I actually did it again. I forgot to swap the goddamn phones.
And I don't even know how to get out of this, considering I jumped out of his car without so much as a warning...again. He must think I'm delusional.
Jas and Mer got in late last night, and I pretended to be asleep, even though I obviously wasn't, since I spent half the night cursing myself for being such an idiot. That feeling only intensified when I got a text from Hayden shortly after I made it back to my hotel room.
Hey, Lucky. Just letting you know that I still have your phone. Let's just meet at the hotel tomorrow and swap them back, before we forget again. ;) I had a great night, though, and I really hope you did too. Sweet dreams xx
Of course he just wants to get it over with now. I'm not surprised. It's not like he had any reason to be interested in me, anyway.
I sigh before I crawl out of bed, in desperate need of coffee and donuts. I'm suddenly glad Jasmine made sure we had a mini-fridge stocked with donuts and a premium coffee machine in our kitchen. Breakfast in sweatpants and an oversized sweater is the best.
Pressing the button for a cappuccino on the fancy coffee machine, I grab not one, not two, but three donuts from the fridge, stuffing one in my mouth while I wait for the machine to finish.
When it does, I take a quick sip of the brewing hot cappuccino and instantly curse myself for being so damn impatient. "Shit!" I spit out the coffee to stop the burning on my tongue, sending a wave of hot liquid onto my sweater. "Really, Mila? Again?" I groan, dabbing a tea towel over the fabric, like that will somehow magically remove the light-brown stain on my gray sweater. "What a way to start the day." One of the donuts in my hand soon wanders into my mouth, and I take a large bite just as I hear a knock on the door.
I glance at the clock on the wall. Do they do a cleaning service at six-thirty in the morning? I know these people just do their job, whatever time that may be. I open the door, one donut in my mouth while the other rests in my hand, but I almost drop both of them when I recognize the man standing in front of my door.
"Hey, Lucky."
I try to swallow the donut in my mouth as I study the fresh-as-always-looking Hayden in front of me, a green duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. I can't speak, all of a sudden. I can only focus on the racing heart in my chest and the heat creeping into my cheeks.
This situation is movie-level embarrassing, really.
He studies me up and down, a smirk curling on his lips while his eyes twinkle in the way they always do.
"What?" I wipe my palm over my mouth after I swallow the rest of my donut. "What are you doing here? How do you know my room number? I thought you..."
But I don't get to finish that question. Hayden's threatening stride makes me shut the hell up as he taps the door with his foot, closing it behind him with a quiet thud. "I know what I told you." His voice is low and husky when he drops the bag on the floor and steps right in front of me, my back hitting the wall as he closes the distance between us, leaving him just a few inches away from me. All I can do is stare at his mouth as he speaks, watching his lips move with every syllable. "But I woke up this morning and had the urge to do this."
His words make me look back up at his hungry green eyes, and even though I can see exactly what he wants to do to me, I can't help but ask, "To do what?"
"I think you know what."
"Do I?" Yes, I do. And I'd very much like him to do it. Now.
"You do." His baritone voice vibrates against my skin as he suddenly leans in, his predatory gaze flicking to my lips. Before I can even anticipate his next move, he crashes his lips against my own, the impact immediately giving me weak knees.
Every time we kiss, it's like a hurricane swirls through me, leaving me breathless and my head spinning from desire, need, and heat. I moan and circle my arms around his neck, pulling him toward me, wanting—no, needing—to have him closer.
I don't even care about the donuts anymore, the last two dropping to the floor when Hayden obliges my needs without hesitation. Our tongues start to dance while I hold on to him for dear life, my fingers combing through his hair as he hooks up my leg, his firm grip on my thigh sending a moan down my lips.
And then he releases a deep, guttural growl that shakes me to my core, waking me up in a way no coffee or donut ever could. But that growl sends a tidal wave of realization through my veins, because I suddenly comprehend...I just greeted this god of a man in sweatpants and a coffee-stained sweater with donut crumbs all over me.
He resists when I pull back, but eventually gives in, his forehead leaning against mine as we both take deep breaths, my mind numb and simultaneously racing at a hundred miles per hour. "God, what are you doing to me, Lucky?" His breath fans my skin, his words only intensifying my exhilaration.
"You tell me, Cash..."
He pulls back, that amused twinkle in his eyes when he asks, "Cash?"
"I still need to prove that theory." I can't help but smirk at my own reply.
He laughs at my words, a beautiful and melodic laugh that's like music to my ears. I watch him intently as he runs his fingers through his thick, hazel hair before he shakes his head, reaching for the duffel bag by his feet. He rummages in it until he finds what he was looking for, a huge grin crossing his face the second he stretches out his hand to me.
The phone in his palm sends a chuckle down my lips, although I also have to swallow this lump of humiliation in my throat, trying not to drown in the feeling of being such a failure.
"Can I get mine too?" he asks in amusement.
"Of course." I shake my head with a smile. "Give me a second." I rush into the bedroom and pick up the phone from my nightstand, glancing at the mirror. Yup, I look just as shitty as I thought I would. But there's no going back now. He did kiss my brains out mere seconds ago, even though I look like I awoke from a thousand-year-long slumber.
And so I walk back into the hallway, spotting him leaning against the wall as I wave the phone in my hand. "There you go. I promise I treated it like it was my own."
"I appreciate it." He smirks, that twinkle once again appearing in his eyes, almost like this situation was the most normal thing in the world.
"So..." I run my fingers through my hair to comb it, focusing on anything but him, the sudden awkwardness of this situation overpowering my brain.
"So..." he repeats and reaches out for me, his thumb gently brushing over my cheek before he lifts up my chin, our gazes locking in an instant.
As I stare into those forest-green eyes, something happens within me, just like it did the first time we kissed. I feel different, and I guess that explains how I end up leaning forward, getting on my toes to brush my lips over his own, my entire body tingling from the sensation of his touch.
I feel the grin on his lips when he kisses me back, gently, cautiously, kindly. This must be the longest kiss I've ever shared without deepening it, and still, my heart thunders from this simple but exhilarating touch, threatening to give away my desire for this man. He seems to notice too, because he suddenly pulls back, his forehead resting against mine as he whispers, "I'll see you later, Lucky." Just like that, he turns around and disappears as quickly as he arrived, only turning back around when he reaches the stairwell.
"Later?" I ask.
His response is a simple but beautiful smirk before he disappears down the stairs, leaving me breathless and with even more questions than I had half an hour ago.
***
"Look what I got!" Mer squeals as she walks out of her room, a wide grin on her face while she holds up three white-and-green football jerseys.
"Oh, hell no," I groan.
"Come on, Mimi! If we're doing this, we're doing this right. Here!" Mer throws the jersey right in my face.
"Mimi," Jas suddenly chimes in with a smile. "Don't be such a wuss. You had a date yesterday. You should be in a good mood!"
"How did it go, by the way?" Mer asks.
"It was alright. It's not like we're going to meet again, anyway..." I pull the football jersey over my head, studying myself in the mirror once more. The number 7 with the name CROSS above it appears in bright green on my back.
"Ah, come on, don't beat yourself up about it. Who knows, maybe you will see him again." Mer shoots me a pitiful smile.
"He'd be stupid if he didn't want to get back to you, Mimi. You're a catch," Jas agrees, though her smile is more empathetic.
I look at the two of them, trying to build me up, and I can't help but sigh. Once again, I'm the weak link in the group. Once again, I'm the one they have to pity.
"Yeah, we'll just have to wait and see," I mutter when I grab my bag. I still have no idea what he meant by See you later—I mean, how much more cryptic can a man get?
But it's not like I can think about it too much—all worries about Hayden get washed away by the anxiety in my veins as we reach the stadium, the thousands of other football fans making my hands clammy.
God, I hate crowds.
"I have no idea how this works." I try to distract the thundering heart in my chest by asking Meredith about the game. She's a sports journalist—she should know the rules, right?
"I still can't believe you've never watched a football game. And I thought I knew you!" she exclaims as we take our seats, eliciting a laugh from Jas, who hands each of us a hotdog and a Coke.
"Okay, I'm gonna teach you as it goes." It's hard to hear Meredith's voice with the cheering fans around us. "So, there are four quarters with fifteen minutes each."
"Wait, the game only takes an hour?"
Mer and Jas both laugh at my question as they bite into their hotdogs, the signal for the first quarter blaring around us.
"No—well, yes," Jasmine replies after she swallows her bite. "There are breaks and timeouts in between, which drag the game on for hours. You'll figure it out by watching, I promise."
I glance back at the field, watching the first two quarters while Mer explains every move and position with care.
"See that guy? That's the tackle. He's the muscle..." She rambles on, and after the third quarter, I actually feel like I understand what she's talking about.
"So, this was an interception, right?" I point to the field, where one player of the L.A. Lions just caught the other team's ball.
"Exactly!"
Surprisingly, I enjoy myself as I watch the game; now that I understand how it works, it's quite fun to watch. That is, until the L.A. Lions score another touchdown, making everyone, even me, jump up from their seats and cheer them on.
"Another spectacular touchdown with the help of L.A. Lions' quarterback Hayden. Ice. Cross! What a throw!"
Wait...what?
"Did that guy just say Hayden Ice Cross?" I ask with wide eyes, but both Mer and Jas look at me in confusion.
"Yeah, he said that, like, seven times already. Ice is on fire today!" Mer yells against the volume of the surrounding cheers.
"Wait, the quarterback's name is Hayden Ice Cross?" I ask her again.
"Yeah, Ice is his nickname! He's a brilliant quarterback, and damn, he's hot too."
I feel my heart racing, my mind going at a hundred miles per hour as I try to connect the dots. That guy named Kill asked for Ice when he called me. Hayden said he's an athlete.
He can't be. Can he?
Of course. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Mer told me about the Lions' previous games, and they all line up with Hayden's itinerary. And the way he was so vague about his job...
"I think I went on a date with the L.A. Lions' quarterback," I whisper, more to myself than anyone else.
"What?" Jas yells against the noise.
"I..." I swallow, trying to understand what's happening. "I think I went on a date with Hayden Cross."
My best friend squeals before jumping into my arms. "What? How cool is that!"
"Uh, no offense, babe," Mer interjects when Jas pulls away from me, "but that's kind of impossible. Jas, look up a picture and show it to her! It's impossible."
And I know it is. I don't know what to say to her, because I have no idea what's happening right now.
"Is this the guy you went out with?" Jas holds up her phone, a picture of Hayden in his football gear on the screen.
"Yeah." I sigh.
"Damn, girl!" Jas throws one arm around my shoulder, her laugh overpowering everyone else.
"Wait, you're serious?" Mer seems irritated at the revelation, but then she suddenly starts laughing, her hand covering her lip as she giggles, bringing a next-level awkwardness to this situation with her behavior.
"Yeah, I'm serious."
"Girl, you must be joking. Because that's Hayden fucking Cross we're talking about here." Mer laughs again.
"Meredith!" Jasmine warns her, but right at that moment, a blaring horn echoes through the stadium, and people start jumping up and down, cheering on the L.A. Lions' victory.
"Yeah, I know. Because why would someone like him go out with someone like me, right?" I almost yell over the noise while I grab my purse and jacket.
"Mimi, you know I wasn't..."
"Weren't what, Mer?" I can already feel the tears glistening in my eyes when I look at her, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"I'm just saying, he's him, and you're...well, you're you."
Her words slice through me like a samurai sword, painful and sharp. It becomes even harder to keep the tears at bay, but I don't want to cry now.
"Mer! I swear, shut up for once, will ya? Jesus Christ," Jas scolds.
"No, she's right..." I look down at the field, finding Hayden's name on a jersey in a matter of seconds. Like two magnets, our gazes instantly meet, this pair of strikingly beautiful green eyes hunting me down as if it's their sole purpose to exist. "I get it, Mer. I'm just Mimi, right?" I glance back at my friend, who has this apologizing look on her face, which honestly isn't worth much to me right now. I turn around to leave, but a hand on my wrist makes me turn around, and I can't help but flinch when I see Mer's pitiful glance.
"Let her go, Mer!"
Thank God for Jasmine, the voice of reason in this situation. I honestly can't tell what I would've done if they forced me to stay here for a second longer.
As soon as Mer releases my wrist, I storm out of the stadium, not looking back at my friends or the man who couldn't bother to tell me who he was.