Chapter 9
Kelsie
I’ve never seen Hayes flip out like the way he did in my car on the way to Mountain Springs.
He was clearly suffering from a panic attack, judging by the way his face turned a grayish-white, his pupils unfocused, and the clammy skin I felt when holding his hand. Every time he took a breath, it sounded like he was an asthmatic long-distance runner. I was worried he’d pass out while I was driving so I pulled the car over to make sure he was all right.
When he told me about the reason behind his episode, I was stunned. I had no idea he’d been in a bad car accident. He never once mentioned it when we were together in France. All the time we spent in each other’s company and not a word. But I suppose that was par for the course, since we didn’t divulge any personal details about our lives back home,
You never told him about your brother either.
Obviously, he’s tried burying it all inside, but just like any trauma, it finds a way to bubble back up to the surface when he’s faced with triggering events. Like riding in a car for a long distance.
He seemed to be much calmer on our way home, but I also made sure to drive like a grandma, staying under the speed limit and avoiding any quick stops and starts, even when my instinct is to drive fast. I even held his hand again for most of the trip back, as uncomfortable as it was for me.
I don’t want to touch him. I don’t want to get close to him. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.
The best course of action is to steer clear of Hayes. But that doesn’t seem to be an option because the universe is doing its best to pull me back into Hayes’s orbit. I want so badly to stay mad at him and not forgive him for breaking my heart, but then he goes and does sweet things for me.
Like this morning when he went out of his way to find the French bakery to get me breakfast and also found the topic of our project.
I guess I should give credit where credit’s due.
The initial interview with Mallorie at the Toulouse Cheese Company of Mountain Springs went really well. She was so kind and generous, and provided us with some great material for us to get started. Now we need to combine our notes and create our thesis and an outline for our project.
When we got back into the house, I’d immediately gone into my bedroom to change into my comfy clothes and read the texts that had come in while I was driving.
The first one was from Lucy on our group chat.
Lucy: Hope you made it home safe and had a good trip. We want to hear all about it.
Lucy: We’re having pizza tonight if you want to come over.
Grace: You better come over and tell us what happened! And how did your date with Ben go?
Lucy: We need all the deets, girly!
I laugh at the exchange and shoot a quick message back.
Me: The interview went great. Still need to work on some notes. I’ll come over later.
I’m contemplating what I want to tell them about my date last night with Ben. It gave me such satisfaction to walk out of my bedroom, looking fine as fuck, to prove to Hayes that I was over him and have moved on.
But that feeling was short-lived when I saw the look on Hayes’s face. It was a cross between jealousy and torture. Truthfully, it kind of soured my mood for the rest of the night and I wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind while out with Ben.
Speaking of which, I also have another text from him I should respond to.
Hottie Hockey Player: Hey, Kels. Our home game’s tomorrow night. You coming? Party afterwards at Delta Chi.
Hottie Hockey Player: I’d really love to see you.
I inhale deeply and let it out.
Gah. Ben. What do I do with him? Yes, I like him. He’s really hot and proved to be a good kisser. But something’s missing and I didn’t feel the same umph of chemistry like I do with Hayes.
Correction. Like I did with Hayes.
I thought accepting the date with Ben would be a good way to get back to my normal self, where I could just have a casual hookup with a guy who wasn’t looking for anything serious.
I’d hoped hanging out with Ben would help me forget about Hayes. Instead, Ben is starting to bug me.
Throughout the day, while I was in classes and then with Hayes in Mountain Springs, Ben texted me at least a dozen times. Maybe some other women like that, but not me. It feels smothering. Too needy.
Hayes was never like that when we were together.
In the four months we dated in Paris, he was so good about giving me the space I needed to do my art and hang out with my friends. He didn’t constantly pester me or text me when we were apart.
The knock on my door startles me and I leave the text unanswered as the phone slips from my hand and drops to the floor. I spin around to see Hayes standing on the other side of my open doorway.
“Sorry, Kels. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a contrite smile and then hooks his thumb down the hallway. “I was just gonna let you know I’m ready when you are.”
I bend down to pick up my phone and nod. “Yep, I’m ready. Was just checking my messages.”
He lifts a brow with interest and coughs. “Any more from the hockey player?”
Yeah. Too many.
But I kind of like that it might make him jealous that I went out with Ben. I know he saw the stream of incoming texts from Ben while I was driving because they’d pop up on the display in my phone holder.
Part of me wants to tell Hayes it’s none of his business. On the other hand, though, I might just use this as an opportunity for some payback.
“As a matter of fact, yes. A few were from Ben.” I flip off the light switch and scoot around Hayes, catching a whiff of his clean ocean breeze and spice scent. I can feel his eyes on my ass as I walk in front of him toward the main living area. I swing my head over my shoulder and catch him staring at me, but he quickly diverts his gaze and I grin. “We had fun last night and he asked me to come watch his game tomorrow night.”
“Oh…well, that’s cool.”
We settle in on the couch in the living room since Eleanor is in the kitchen making dinner.
I call out to her as I tuck my feet under my butt on the couch. “Whatever you’re making in there sure smells good.”
Eleanor is a grad student from Texas and is studying anthropology. From the sounds of her giggles, her boyfriend, Martin, is also in there with her.
Eleanor pops her head around the corner wearing a gap-toothed smile and a grease-stained apron. “I’m missing home so I’m showing Martin how to make my grandma’s southern fried chicken and dumpling recipe.”
“She lies!” Martin shouts back in a teasing tone. “It’s just an excuse to get me to cook for her and to boss me around.”
“You love it when I’m bossy, don’t you, baby?” Eleanor purrs in a southern drawl.
I bite my lip and lock eyes with Hayes, smiling in his spot on the couch next to me. We both laugh at the couple’s super cute banter.
Hayes and I were hopelessly lovesick like that too at one point. But that ended when he fucked me over.
Eleanor continues, “And let me remind you that when we get married, I will not be the only one cooking.”
My eyes grow wide because this is news to me. I haven’t heard about this. “Wait, what? Did you two just get engaged?”
Martin snorts from the kitchen. “Not yet. This fiercely independent woman keeps rejecting my proposals. I’d hoped cooking for her would do the trick.”
We hear a clatter of pans and then an “Oof” as I stifle my laughter with my hand over my mouth.
When I look at Hayes, he shakes his head in mirth and rolls his eyes. I reach out to smack his arm playfully and then snatch it back, remembering I’m not supposed to touch him.
“What do you know about it?” I scoff.
“Oh, trust me,” he says, raising a brow at me.
Quickly turning away, I pick up my notebook on the table in front of us to focus my attention on anything but his face.
“I know a thing or two about fiercely independent women. One in particular.”
Hayes pokes me in the thigh with his finger and I jerk my leg away. I don’t want him touching me either.
We may have to spend a lot of time together due to this project, but I do not have to like it. And I don’t want to like him.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I murmur, flipping through the pages to find a blank one to begin our project. “Okay, where shall we start?”