When I met Hayden Cross, I never thought we'd end up texting each other like flirty teenagers, and I especially never thought I'd join in on it. But I did. I encouraged it, even.
By now I'm catching myself waiting for his reply, wanting him to initiate our playful conversations. They seem to energize me, because finally, finally, I can gather my thoughts and put them into words and ultimately on paper.
I'm already finishing up my second chapter right now, mostly because I haven't heard from Hayden since this morning. It worries me somehow; it's unlike him. I noticed he's making a habit of saying goodnight or wishing me a great day before he has training, always giving his best to speak to me before he's unavailable for a while.
He makes an insane effort to keep up with me, to talk to me. It's...confusing.
I shake my head and throw a peanut butter cup in my mouth, attempting to calm my thoughts and get the last words on paper, but I'm interrupted by my ringing phone.
It's Mer. Again.
She called me a few times over the last week, but I didn't want to talk to her. I know I can't avoid her forever, though, so I heave a sigh as I answer the call, her voice resonating through the line before I can even say something.
"Mimi?"
"That's me."
"Oh, Mimi! I'm so glad you're finally answering your phone, I've been so worried."
"I'm okay, Mer." I roll my eyes as I get up from the pillow I sat on, walking into the kitchen to get my coffee.
"Listen, I'm really sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it to sound like that. I just thought... I mean, he's Hayden Cross, you know."
"And I'm Mila Lyne."
"You know that's not what I mean, Mimi. You're great. I love you—you know that, don't you?"
A sigh escapes my throat as I pour the freshly brewed coffee into my cup. "I know, Mer."
"I guess it just came as a shock. I didn't think you'd be interested in someone like him...and of course, vice versa."
Of course.
Why would Hayden be interested in me? It's a question I've asked myself a lot these days. "I get it, Mer. Listen, I gotta go."
"Mimi, please don't be mad at me."
The sound of my doorbell has me spinning around, blatantly ignoring whatever point Meredith is trying to bring across. "Like I said, Mer. I get it." I walk over to the door, opening it without really looking, my mind too occupied by this conversation with my so-called best friend. But then I glance up, and my heart stops for a second from the sight in front of me. "Hayden?" The very man I'm having this conversation about is standing on my doorstep, his caramel-colored hair disheveled while his hungry gaze pins me to my spot.
"I know his name, Mila. I'm just saying, don't let him hurt you. His name is all over the place..."
I don't even register Meredith anymore, the sound of Hayden's voice suddenly occupying my mind. "Hey, Lucky."
Without thinking twice, I hang up the phone, stunned by his stormy appearance in front of me. His green eyes undress me, every inch of skin he studies burning up in flames. He seems tired, but the fire in his eyes is still there, that significant twinkle still dancing in his irises, and again I just want to lose myself in them. "I, uh...I'm not even wearing a bra." What the fuck, Mila? Why did I say that? "Oh my God. Shit. Sorry. I... Argh!" I throw my hands over my face, Hayden's laugh engulfing me like the embarrassment I am.
"Well, that's not the kind of information I was expecting tonight, but...good to know, I guess," he replies with an amused tone. He doesn't hesitate before he gently removes my hands from my flushed face, the intensity in his eyes almost instantly sending a shiver down my spine. "God, you're so fucking beautiful." His raspy voice makes me speechless, and even if I wanted to protest, he doesn't give me the chance to, his lips chasing my own seconds later. He ushers me into the room, kicking the door shut behind us before he spins me around and presses me against the wood, his hands releasing mine to wander down to my hips. I hold on to him, enjoying the grasp of his hands on my skin when they roam around my back and push me closer to him, the quiet thud of our colliding bodies sending a gasp down my lips.
He's like a starved animal, and I'm his first meal in weeks. He isn't ashamed of ravishing every inch of me with his mouth, his tongue, and his large, rough hands...
"Hayden..." I can't even object to his attack, my thundering heart leaving me hoarse and breathless.
He doesn't regard my warning, if one can call it that. Instead, he picks me up and carries me to the couch, where I straddle him as soon as he lowers both of us, the sudden urge to be close to him overwhelming my senses. Raking my hands through his hair, I close the distance between us, my breasts brushing over his chest while my center clashes with his hard groin.
"Fuck..." Pulling back, I take a few deep breaths to calm my thoughts. "I did the thing, didn't I?" I frown, suddenly self-conscious and awkward.
But Hayden immediately cups my face with his hands, a somewhat amused expression on his face, although his eyes still portray that raging fire. "You did. I fucking love it, though." His statement sends heat into my cheeks, but he simply kisses them before looking back into my eyes, just as I'm about to move off him. "Don't stop. I need this. You have no idea how damn sexy you are."
I listen to him, our bodies working on their own as our lips collide again, letting our tongues fight, play, and punish each other like it was the last thing we're ever going to do. His body heat transfers into me, burning me up in the most pleasurable way possible as I suppress a moan, his fingers suddenly skimming over the bare skin on my back. I buck forward a bit; the sensation of his hands on my skin zaps through me like a lightning strike.
But he doesn't stop, he only climbs higher, one of his hands firmly pushing against the spot beneath my shoulder blades while the other draws patterns on my lower back. His touch makes me breathless and dizzy, like I'm going to faint from the fire traveling through me. But I just can't stop touching him, can't stop chasing his tongue with my own, because his kisses are my oxygen. They're what I need to breathe, to survive. And when grab his hair, urgently nibbling his bottom lip, he groans with such an intensity that my entire body vibrates from his resonance.
"Fuck, Mila." He pulls back, his forehead resting against mine. And I realize I must've been too forward, too intense, again.
"Sorry," I whisper, my breath hot and heavy when he suddenly leans back to look at me, his thumb brushing over my cheek before he straightens my glasses.
"Don't you ever apologize for doing that. You did nothing wrong."
"I didn't?" I can't help the insecurity in my voice—it's just who I am.
But he shakes his head, his eyes searching mine with intent. "No, Mila. Quite the opposite."
He sends another blush to my cheeks when he bucks his hips, shamelessly demonstrating how hard he is for me. I want him so badly; I feel like I can't trust my body around him. I act like an unpredictable, horny teenager every time he's near.
So I lean back a little, hoping to gather my thoughts, to find a rational way to continue this without going too far. But just as I close my eyes to take a deep breath, my phone rings again, showing Mer's name on the screen when I pull it out of my pocket.
A sigh escapes my throat as I throw it on the couch, trying to block out the words that keep creeping back into my mind. Ultimately, she's right.
He's him, and I'm me.
"What's wrong?" Hayden must've noticed my inner battle.
The obvious concern in his eyes confuses me, and I simply shake my head. "Nothing."
"Don't lie to me," he warns me firmly. There's no glimmer in his eyes now, no sparkle or amusement. Just straight sincerity.
That sincerity makes me give in. "I had a fallout with a friend."
"Oh, I'm sorry...and now she's trying to talk to you?"
"Something like that. We were talking on the phone when you rang the doorbell."
"Oh, I was wondering who that was," he admits, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "I told you I'm curious," he quickly adds with a grin.
"You did."
"So, what happened with that friend?"
I bite my lip in uncertainty, unsure what to tell him. We've been quite honest with one another, considering we don't know each other that long. But I don't know if I can or want to open up to that extent, yet.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just..." He runs a hand through his hair before he looks back at me, his usually so amused and collected face now seeming confused and worried. "I like you, Mila. I really do. I know we don't know much about each other, but I want to get to know you. And I don't want there to be any secrets that could jeopardize that." He studies me intently, almost like he needs to make sure I register his words. "Fuck, I couldn't stop thinking about you ever since that first night. You intrigue me so much. And it's more than that—you're on my mind, constantly, driving me insane, I think... Allow me to get to know you more, please."
The raw sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, and I have to swallow before I whisper my response. "It's not that easy."
"Why isn't it?"
"Because you're you, and well..." I can't even finish the sentence.
"Because I'm a superficial quarterback who has to be a jerk?" he asks with a raised brow.
"No, no. That's not what I mean. You should know that, though."
"Then what do you mean?
Scrunching my nose, I adjust my glasses and buy myself time to think of what to say. I have to give him something. "Your name is in the news. The tabloids. The TV..."
"More often than I'd like, yes. But I can protect you from that."
"It's not me who needs protection, Hayden. I...I have a family that cannot deal with media attention. At all. It would stir things up, and I can't risk being seen or having journalists snoop around in my life."
"We can be careful."
I shake my head. He doesn't understand the severity of this situation. How could he? "My father...he can't deal with it. I can't risk it." I try to go heavy with the conviction in my voice, but Hayden sits there, almost looking frozen for a second, obviously trying to figure out what I'm trying to tell him.
"I don't know what happened to your father, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to protect you from the media. We can be discreet. Please, Mila. Don't let this end before it even started. I know you feel this too." His fingertips skim over my cheeks as he looks at me with such intensity, I think my heart might burst if he doesn't stop soon, but he's obviously trying to make a point.
Successfully, too. I cannot deny I thought about him every day, that I craved his touch, his mere presence, every single second since we met.
"I just want the chance to get to know you. I want to show you who I am when you're with me. Because with you, I feel like I can be who I really am. And it's such a rare fucking thing. Please don't take that away from me," he whispers, and I feel his candor as he rests his forehead against mine, this simple contact of our bodies exacerbating my raging heart. "Please, Mila..."
Never in my life did I think someone like Hayden Cross would sit beneath me, begging me to give us a chance. But it's happening. Right now.
"I..." My brittle voice is almost inaudible, and when he leans back to regard me properly, my breath hitches; the sincerity and hope in his eyes knock the air out of my lungs.
Something deep inside me wants to run away from him, hiding in my room and forgetting this happened. But when I gaze into those green eyes, I know that'll never happen. Because he says I intrigue him, but to me it's different. He doesn't just intrigue me.
Hayden sets my world on fire—he challenges everything I thought I knew about life, about attraction, and obliterates it with the simplest touch.
"We need to be very careful," I whisper, my words sending a smirk to his lips.
"I promise. We will." His voice is thick with conviction, and his smile turns into a wide beam, transferring raw happiness right to me.
"Okay. I trust you. I don't know why, but I do." I can't help but smile back at him when he places his palm on my cheek, and I subconsciously lean into his touch.
"Thank you," he whispers and then kisses me again, his strong arms wrapping around me as he pulls me closer, his warmth engulfing me like a drug, and I know I'm already addicted. Addicted to his scent, his touch...
We keep diving into each other, our bodies curled around one another as we give in to this godforsaken passion running through our veins. And at that moment, I can only feel one thing:
I'm falling. Hard and fast.
Because Hayden Cross is not the kind of man who half-asses through life. He swirled into mine, swept me off my feet like a tornado full of hunger and desire, and he's about to wreak havoc on my senses, my sanity, and my very being.
My skin burns up with every inch his hands discover, and I push into him with everything I have, needing to have him as close as physically possible. I lose complete control over my body when I start grinding on him with animalistic moves, his hardness rubbing against my center as I moan into our kiss, my mind completely and utterly lost in desire and pleasure.
"Fuck, you're killing me, Lucky..." His deep, baritone voice vibrates against my skin when he groans into our kiss, and the second he pulls back just a few inches, I feel lost and cold like a leaf in the wind.
"Sorry," I whisper once more, unable to speak in a proper sentence or volume.
"Stop apologizing," he immediately speaks up, his gaze fueling the fire in my veins when he studies me with intent. "I mean it. I fucking love what you're doing—way too much, for the record. But I don't want to rush this...for my sake, and for yours."
I'm stunned by the fact that he's the rational one in this scenario. I didn't expect him to be so clear-visioned about this, and I didn't expect me to be this irrational and senseless. That's not what I do. I plan things, I overthink them until I decide not to do them at all, but I never, ever do something simply because I want to.
It scares me, this feeling. Because it shows that Hayden Cross already holds a power over me that's dangerous to an extent I probably will never understand, and the more I look at him, the more I get the sinking feeling that this, that he, has the power to utterly destroy me.