Chapter 6
Levi
It’s been five days since coffee with Hayden Harlow. Five days of replaying every micro-twitch in his expression like it’s cinema. Five days of wondering if that half smile ever reaches his eyes.
Between early but frantic Valentine’s orders and obsessive garden proposal rewrites, it’s a miracle I haven’t slipped funeral lilies into a wedding bouquet. Hayden’s low voice keeps finding its way into my head at the worst times.
It’s infuriating.
If longing were aerobic, I’d have abs.
Seeing him duck into city hall this morning didn’t help. Seriously, what does he even do in there? I’m starting to wonder if he’s secretly running for office or has some side hustle as Stonevale’s most mysterious civil servant. The man treats municipal government like a second home.
Every spare minute I’m not trimming stems or overthinking Hayden goes straight into the garden plans. Budget tweaks, emails to the city, midnight sketches…it’s the second job that’s got me running on fumes but is every bit the dream I’d hoped it to be.
By Friday night, my brain is a scrambled mess of flower varieties, city permits, and Hayden saying “no sweetener” on loop. Only one thing can save me now: trivia night at Franny’s with Dominic, Elijah, and an obscene amount of gin.
Franny’s is Stonevale’s treasured gay dive: sticky floors, rainbow lights, karaoke, bartenders who know your drink, your ex, and your darkest secret.
It’s home and our sacred weekly ritual. Surely tonight’s rounds of dirty martinis and competitive answers will finally clear any thoughts of “Mr. Broody.”
Dominic’s in rare form, glowing obnoxiously under the neon lights in some cropped sweater-vest that’s absolutely not weather appropriate. Elijah, poised as ever, sips an Aperol spritz, amused by his husband’s antics.
“Next round is…” Benny, emcee extraordinaire, announces from the stage. He dramatically raises his trivia cards. “ ‘Obscure Historical Disasters.’ Hope you studied, nerds.”
Dominic elbows me. “You got this. Your Netflix history is ninety percent tragic documentaries.”
I start to defend my taste in comfort binge watches when the bar door swings open, sweeping in a rush of cold winter air…and Hayden Harlow himself.
“Holy shit,” I whisper under my breath.
Hayden pauses inside like he might bolt.
Dark hair mussed by the wind, black overcoat skimming his lean frame, jawline weapon sharp.
He’s so out of place it should be comical, like a raven in a sea of parrots.
There’s something in the way he holds himself, still and careful.
A man who’s used to being seen and forgotten in the same breath.
I find it mesmerizing and I have no idea why.
The best I can manage is I’m a sucker for a good puzzle, and Hayden?
He just might be the puzzle of all puzzles.
He scans the bar nervously. His coat billows around him and the hem of his trousers reveals an intentional taper at the ankle as he glides to the take-out counter.
A whisper of cool air that isn’t the door draft skims my arms. Nerves, poor insulation, or something else. I’m choosing insulation inadequacies.
My heart skips. Apparently, I have the emotional maturity of a high schooler.
“Okay. Don’t look, but behi…”
Dominic immediately whips around, all subtlety abandoned, followed swiftly by Elijah and half the bar.
“Oh my god, you guys,” I hiss, melting into my barstool. My stomach flips; I blame the gin and side of extra olives. “Subtle much?”
Dominic turns back with a wicked grin. “That’s him, right? Funeral Guy?”
Elijah eyes Hayden appreciatively, still sipping his spritz. “I told you he was hot. The lighting is forgiving. He, annoyingly, does not need it.”
Dominic leans back with a pointed stare. “Oh, Mr. Doom-and-Gloom could absolutely get it.” Then the unthinkable. “Hayden!” he calls, waving like an old friend.
“Dominic!” I choke out. “I will murd—”
“Oh, hush,” he says, jabbing me with his elbow.
I grit my teeth. Hayden spots us, new hesitation flickering across his face. But to my astonishment, he makes his way over, take-out container held neatly in one hand.
“Levi,” he says, voice rich and unbothered by the music. “Good to see you again.”
Dominic beams, Elijah looks delighted, and I could melt right out of my skin.
“You’re…here,” I manage.
Hayden shrugs, glancing at his takeout. “I’m having some…plumbing issues handled. A run-in of convenience, if you will.”
Dominic raises his glass. “Lucky us!”
Hayden’s lip curls up just enough that I might feel comfortable counting it as a smile.
Feeling brave…or delusional, I pat the stool next to mine. “Join us. We’re reigning trivia champions.”
He lifts an eyebrow, but after a silent standoff, he slides onto the stool, draping his coat over its back. I catch the scent of juniper and black tea. Understated and ruinous. “Fine. You’ll have to excuse me eating.”
“Only if you don’t mind sharing,” Elijah says, leaning forward to steal a fry.
Hayden eyes Elijah with mild amusement before neatly rolling up his sleeves and picking up a fork and knife. I watch, mesmerized, as the refined funeral director tackles bar food with meticulous manners, cutting a cheeseburger and fries into precise bites.
Benny begins the round. “First question: What unusual disaster struck Boston’s North End in 1919, killing over twenty people?”
I blink blankly, glancing around the table. “Seriously?”
Hayden calmly answers before forking another bite of his burger, voice low. “The Great Molasses Flood.”
Benny cheers, “Correct!”
Dominic’s eyes widen. Elijah mouths, Molasses?
The next question comes rapidly: “In 1783, which volcano’s eruption led to severe global climate changes and famine?”
Without hesitation, Hayden murmurs, “Laki, Iceland.” I could bottle that voice and sell it.
Again, correct. Dominic leans toward me, whispering, “Your crush is freakishly smart.”
I nudge him under the table, blushing furiously, but apparently, intelligence is my kink. News to me.
More questions follow—monarchs, Greek battles, even details of the history of postage stamps; Hayden mops the floor between measured bites.
Dominic fans himself. “I’m not even into nerds, but this is fucking working for me.”
After six far-too-easy-for-Hayden rounds, we win spectacularly. Benny saunters over, tossing drink vouchers onto our table as Dominic and Elijah erupt into cheers.
Hayden just finishes his dinner quietly, unfazed by the attention.
It’s both maddening and endearing. How does he exist like this?
This stoic, composed mystery sitting inches away from me, brilliant and attractive?
I can’t tell if it’s confidence or loneliness that sets him apart.
Maybe both. Either way, I can’t help but look.
Dominic slings an arm around my shoulders, slurring happily, “If you don’t invite Mr. Trivia Genius here to our anti-Valentine’s party, I will.”
I freeze, imagining polished Hayden at our inevitably chaotic “Anything But Love” gathering. “Uh, maybe,” I mumble.
Hayden stands gracefully, buttoning his coat. “I should head out.”
“I’ll walk with you,” I say quickly, standing, too. I ignore Dominic’s and Elijah’s delighted expressions.
Hayden lifts an eyebrow. “If you insist.”
Dominic clutches his heart theatrically. “They grow up so fast.”
Elijah raises his glass. “Have fun, kids. Play safe.”
“Good night, assholes,” I say fondly.
And after a pause, Hayden extends a hand, motioning for me to lead the way.
As we step out of the bar, the darkness wraps around us, interrupted only by the distant glow of streetlamps. The winter air feels less severe than it did a few hours ago. Or, maybe I’m just still buzzing from the gin.
I steal a glance at Hayden. The quiet streets of Stonevale suit him.
Even in the breeze, his hair remains stubbornly perfect, not a single strand rebelling, like even the wind knows better than to mess with Hayden Harlow.
I wait for him to say something. A jab about trivia, perhaps, or an amused observation on the state of Franny’s sticky floor.
But he remains silent. He simply walks beside me, eyes forward, comfortable in the in-between moments like he was when we grabbed coffee.
It’s unnerving. My whole life, I’ve been the one who fills silences with nervous chatter or anything that might smooth over awkward pauses. But Hayden carries silence effortlessly, as though he doesn’t owe the world anything beyond his presence.
His measured pace eventually slows in front of a neatly kept brick building.
Hayden’s home, I presume. My chest tightens, though I’m unsure what exactly I’m waiting for.
Maybe some sign from him, a clue that this night mattered, that trivia perhaps was more than just trivia. But Hayden gives nothing away.
He turns to face me fully.
“Thank you for tonight,” he says, his eyes thoughtful. “It was…unexpectedly enjoyable.”
“Unexpectedly?” I tease, suddenly feeling bold. “I’ll have you know, my friends and I are universally delightful.”
“Clearly.”
I swallow, my pulse quickening. “I have to admit, you completely shocked us. Dominic’s probably drafting an official recruitment offer for our trivia team as we speak.”
Hayden gives a half smile and keeps his hands buried deep in his coat pockets. “Glad to help.”
His tone is polite but distant. It lands oddly, as if something has shifted. I laugh, attempting to bridge the sudden change. “At this rate, you’ll be Stonevale’s newest celebrity. From mysterious funeral director to trivia hero overnight.”
Hayden’s posture stiffens, a hint of something raw cutting through his composure. Fear, I realize. Not anger. “Is that all I am?” he asks, quiet.
“What do you mean?”
He scans my face. “I mean, Levi…am I just a small-town curiosity? A joke for you and your friends?”
My stomach twists. I step closer, shaking my head quickly, desperate to clarify. “Hayden, no. Of course not…”