Chapter 8
Hayes
The horror on Kelsie’s face when Professor Wallen announced us as a pair is forever engraved in my brain. I’d swiveled around in my chair and caught a glimpse of her bitter contempt and then slunk back in my chair.
Great. Just great.
The way she’s made herself scarce all week, I can’t help but think she’s avoiding me. And it doesn’t help that I’m already swamped with training and my class schedule, so I haven’t had time to approach her about the elephant in the room.
But at the moment, we’re both home and she may be hiding in her bedroom because she knows it. I’ve been taking my time making myself a snack in the kitchen for the last ten minutes while secretly plotting a way to start a conversation with her. She’s eventually going to have to speak with me since we’ve been paired up on the project we’re assigned to work on together.
I’m about to make my move and go down to knock on her bedroom door when the doorbell rings. Frowning at the interruption, I set my bowl of chips down on the table and walk to the front door and answer it.
Standing out on the front porch is a guy I met at the football house a few weeks ago. I think his name is Ben and he’s on the CFU hockey team. He seems like a nice enough dude from what I know of him.
“Oh, hey, Ben,” I greet, standing in the entry, my hand on the doorframe, curious as to why he’s here.
“Hey, man. I’m here for Kelsie. Is she ready?” he asks, looking around my shoulder into the front room and down the hallway behind me.
Ready? For what?
I’m about to ask him this question when suddenly Kelsie emerges from her room and walks up behind me. I get a whiff of her soft honey scent and something sizzles low in my gut.
I watch incredulously as she loops her hands around Ben’s neck, lifts herself up on her tiptoes, and gives him a hug.
“Hi, Ben,” she says and I can practically hear her smile. I fight a frown as she steps back and grabs her coat off the hook by the door.
Ben smiles, glancing at me with a lift of his brow before turning his gaze back to Kelsie. “You ready to go?”
What the hell? Where are they going? Is this like a date?
“Yep, sure am,” she answers in a flirty voice that I heard a lot of in Paris. He steps in and takes the coat from her hands, helping her into it.
Oh, fuck no. He is not taking her anywhere.
I feel a sudden ragey hot anger radiate through my body and bubble up like I’m on fire from the inside out. I’m altogether uncomfortable, irritated, and severely confused about what is happening and I want to stomp around like an asshole and forbid her to go out with him. I want to yell she’s mine… and then get down on my knees and beg her not to leave.
But I can’t do that because she’s not mine. She may be my housemate and my new class partner, but I have no right to prevent her from dating Ben.
The conversation I had with Killian comes rushing again in my head, where he said it might be a good thing if she started seeing someone else. At the time, I agreed. In theory, it sounds great. But in reality?
It fucking sucks.
“Don’t wait up,” Ben says, flashing me a knowing smile and a wink. A motherfucking wink!
I’ve not wanted to punch someone in a long time, but right now I want to beat the hell out of fucking hockey-playing Ben.
This feeling is completely irrational and not who I am at all. I know that, but I don’t care. And when he places his hand on the small of Kelsie’s back and guides her out the door, I see red and almost tackle his ass to the ground.
Kelsie turns her head and her eyes find me, her expression cold and calculating before she quickly steps through the threshold and Ben closes the door behind him. I stand there like an idiot, staring blankly after them through the front window.
For a moment, I wonder if I should run out after them or just go pound the shit out of a boxing bag at the gym?
When the hell did she start dating a hockey player? How did she get over me so fast?
All these questions roam through my head as I take deep breaths to calm my blood pressure. Minutes—or maybe hours—go by and I’m left with the realization that I”m still not over Kelsie and the feelings very much still linger there and haven’t diminished in the least.
But I’ll be damned if another man, no matter how nice of a guy he is, is going to touch my girl.
In the five hours that Kelsie was gone, I put a plan in motion to pull out all the stops to win her back. Or at the very least, get her to talk to me again. One step at a time.
Based on Killian’s brilliant suggestion, I did some research and found a French bakery in a nearby town that appears to be owned by a French chef.
First step in Operation Get Kelsie to Talk to Me is getting her favorite pastries.
While Kelsie and our other housemates are still asleep this morning, I ordered half a dozen chocolate croissants and two cups of cafe au lait that arrive at 7:30 and I quietly bring it inside into the kitchen, eager for her to wake up.
Based on what I’ve heard each morning this week, Kelsie normally gets up around 7:45 to shower and get ready for her classes. So I sit and wait at the kitchen table, pretending to read an assignment, when all I’m really doing is listening for her to come in. Finally, I hear her bedroom door creak open and her feet padding down the hallway.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, hoping like hell my plan works.
My head pops up from the book I’ve been reading and I watch as she strides into the kitchen and stops short when she sees me sitting here. She has on a very tiny pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. Fuck. I can see the entire outline of her breasts and her nipples pressed against the thin fabric. I quickly move my focus to her face.
I can’t help but smirk when I see my plan is working as her gaze moves to the plate of pastries on the table. Her eyes close briefly as she inhales the scent of chocolate.
Bingo. I knew these would serve me well as a peace offering.
“Good morning,” I offer with a quiet hopefulness. “I got us some breakfast from this French bakery over in Mountain Springs Killian told me about. I hoped we could chat a little about the project we were assigned.”
I watch her eye the pastries and coffee dubiously, an eager pang flipping in my stomach.
She swallows and, after a few seconds, meets my gaze “What do you have in mind?”
Thank God! She’s finally talking to me. I push the still warm cafe au lait over to her and she bites down on her lower lip before hesitantly taking the cup.
“When I was looking for a bakery, I found that the same family also owns a cheese company. They have headquarters near Paris; a store in Toulouse, France; and another store in Normandy, France and this small shop in Mountain Springs. I think they’d be perfect to interview for the assignment.”
She quietly sips on her coffee and I tap my leg nervously waiting for her response.
“Yeah, sure. Okay. I have time today before our two o’clock class. Maybe you should call them and make sure they have time to meet with us?” she suggests, grabbing a croissant from the box and taking a bite. She moans at the deliciousness and closes her eyes, the sound resonating all the way to my dick.
“Oh, yeah, I can do that, but it’s pretty short notice,” I point out and grab my phone from the table to search their number for the Mountain Springs location.
“I know, but our first assignment for the project is due in two weeks,” she points out, as if I’m not familiar with our timeline. “We don’t have much time.”
The phone rings twice and a woman with a French accent answers on the second ring. I quickly explain our situation as Kelsie keeps her eyes on me, her mouth and throat working as she continues to eat the flaky pastry. I feel my heart thumping in my chest because having her stand so close has me mesmerized, but also a bit nervous when I realize that we’ll have to drive to get there. Although Mountain Springs isn’t too far from the CFU campus, it will require a lot of highway driving, which makes me anxious after the accident. I don’t do well when I’m driving long distances.
After finalizing the plans with the woman who was very eager to help us, I hang up and give Kelsie a winning smile and a thumbs up gesture.
“So the manager, Mallorie, said she could meet with us and give us a quick tour at three. From there we can schedule additional meetings as needed.”
“Cool,” she says appreciatively, licking the last remnants of her pastry from her lips. “I’ll see you back here at 2:15.”
I adjust myself under the table as I watch her tongue dart out again, remembering exactly what that tongue feels like when it slides up my cock.
“Holy hell, those are really good,” she says as she plucks another croissant from the box and turns with her coffee and pastry, heading back to her room.
Well, it wasn’t exactly a thank you, but at least we spoke. It’s a start.
I buckle myself in the passenger side of Kelsie’s car and inhale deeply, letting it go slowly as I count backwards from ten, trying to keep my nerves in check. Kelsie starts the engine, completely unaware of my anxiousness.
Her car is small, way too small, and the confinement has my heart beating fast.
When Kelsie offered to drive us, I didn’t think much about it. I was just mentally preparing myself for riding in a car, period. I have to do it every time since my accident, regardless of who’s driving.
Kelsie steers us onto the highway and reaches over to turn on some music, shuffling through the stations casually until she finds a song she likes and begins humming. I grip the door handle tight in my right fist and fiddle with the belt over my chest with my other hand.
My heart mimics the beat of the song in a fast, thumping rhythm. Sweat begins to dot my forehead and drip down my neck and my breathing becomes stilted. Shit, this was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. What was I thinking?
Every muscle in my body clenches, and my eyesight narrows into tunnel vision. I blink rapidly and drop my chin to my chest.
“Hayes, are you okay?” I hear Kelsie say, but her voice sounds like it’s so far away.
Suddenly, the car slows down as she pulls over to the side of the road. Kelsie reaches a hand out, placing it over my forearm.
“Hayes?” she says softly. “Breathe, Hayes.”
I take a deep breath and realize I’ve been holding it in as if I were drowning and couldn’t breathe. My body begins to loosen and relax with each exhalation of air.
“Hey, look at me,” she says, her voice laced with concern. Her small hand comes to my face and she takes my chin in her fingers and thumb to slowly turn my head toward her.
“What’s happening right now?” she asks, searching my face for answers. “You are not okay. And I know I’m not that bad of a driver.”
I lift my head and look at her, having almost forgotten how gorgeous her eyes are. The bright blue has softened into a muted hue, like the evening sky on a summer night. I chuckle at her attempt to lighten the mood and it distracts me long enough to allow me to find the words I need to speak.
“I…was in a bad car accident,” I explain. “A few years ago.”
She frowns. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Were you hurt? Are you okay?”
I shrug. “Physically? Yes. Mentally, apparently not so much.”
She nods and drops her hand. I immediately miss her touch on my face, but she keeps her other hand resting lightly on my forearm. It’s the only thing anchoring me right now.
“Do you…always freak out in cars like this?” she asks as she looks down at where her hand touches my arm. “I don’t remember it happening when we were together in Paris.”
I shake my head. “No, I mean, we mostly took short rides in Paris or the subway, so it was okay. But highways, interstates…small two-lane country roads are tough. Sometimes I can psych myself up, but sometimes…I can’t.”
She squeezes my arm. “Was it a really bad accident?”
I normally hate it when people ask me about it and I seldom talk about it. It’s still too hard. Too painful. Everything is still raw for me.
“Yes. It was bad,” I manage to mutter through gritted teeth.
Kelsie’s quiet for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip and memories of all the times I nipped that lip whirl around in my head. What I wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now. To use it as an escape from this humiliating car ride.
“I’m sorry you’re still dealing with this, Hayes. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But, um, should we continue on or…” She trails off as she looks at the road in front of us and then back to me.
I glance at her navi screen seeing that we’re only two more exits from our turn. “Let’s just go. We’re only on this road for like three more minutes,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. Hell no, I’m not sure, but we have to do this in order to get to our interview. I need good grades for my scholarship. There’s too much riding on it and I can’t fail.
“I’m going to hold your hand. If you need me to stop, just squeeze it, okay?” she says as she puts the car in drive and takes my hand in hers.
“Okay,” I whisper.
She pulls out on the road and starts driving again. Something about her touch calms me and we make it to the second exit. I relax as soon as we get on a side street.
“We’ll take a shortcut,” she states.
I just nod, keeping my focus on the road ahead of us. Her hand squeezes mine and I rub my thumb over hers in a silent ‘thank you’ to her. I’m aware she wants to know more. And, shit, I want to tell her more.
The problem with opening up is it brings back painful memories and a flood of guilt. There’s so much I want to tell Kelsie, and have since I left her hat night in Paris. It’s all related and I’m a fucking mess.
I just hope that she’ll give me a chance to tell her when I’m in a better state of mind. She deserves the truth…she deserves so much more than that.