Chapter 12
London
Hayes
I walk into our suite and set my backpack with the broken zipper down next to the stack of Brady’s matching leather luggage which has been neatly arranged by a porter.
The room is bigger than the entire house where I grew up in Alabama.
It’s easy to imagine this space as a headmaster’s office.
Polished walnut crown molding, windows so tall you could threaten to throw an unruly student through them and heavy velvet curtains to muffle the sound of a tongue-lashing.
I think that’s what they call it here. The furniture, however, is modern and gentle.
A large bed with plush padded headboard, a wet bar made of a matte black stone and, thank God, a couch that looks big enough to sleep on.
I should have asked about sleeping arrangements before we left but I thought it would be rude to request separate rooms since I’m here to work. But there’s plenty of room so we don’t get in each other’s way. Although it’s going to be weird showering, sleeping and living in the same space again.
I lie down on the couch to see how far my feet dangle off.
Not exactly comfortable, but better than trying to sleep on the plane, which was impossible.
Although Brady did his best to make me not so nervous.
When we hit turbulence over Greenland, I thought I felt his pinky inch closer to me, offering support if I needed it.
I grabbed the armrest instead of him so that I’d have something to hold on to if the plane dropped out of the sky but the gesture was kind.
I set up the couch with a blanket and a pillow from the closet. I want to make it clear when Brady walks in that he can have the bed. I’m here as a production assistant. I shove my hand in between the cushions so the blanket is tight, but I’m not sure if I’m making things clear for him or me.
I could take a quick nap but I think I’d manage better with a shower so I walk into the ginormous bathroom to find polished white marble sinks and a showerhead the size of a transmission’s flywheel.
I get in and the water pressure tries to push me through the wall to the room next door.
I turn and let the canon of water massage my back.
I step out, grab a robe and a catch a glimpse of myself in the plush white terrycloth that feels like soft kitten fur against my body.
At Clarkson, I’d learned to hide my crappy laptop and never mention the overnight shifts at the diner in the next town that paid for my meals and books.
The last thing I needed was Brady’s crowd looking at me like some charity case they could fix with daddy’s credit card.
Pretty self-righteous attitude for someone who was flown across the Atlantic and is now standing in a posh bathroom in a fluffy robe.
I swore I would never need Brady’s money, his family’s connections or anything from that world but the reality is, he saved my ass with this job offer.
I head out of the bathroom and open the door to the balcony.
London is living and breathing in front of me.
A few weeks ago, I was eating peanut butter sandwiches and counting every penny to see if I needed to skip a meal so I could make my deposit for school.
Now I’m in one of the greatest cities in the world about as far away from Eagle Rock, Alabama as you can get.
White Georgian townhouses with glossy black doors and vertical rows of neatly arranged windows line the street leading away from the hotel, each one only the slightest variation from the other.
Red double-decker buses head the wrong way down the street, tilting as they turn the corner.
A straight couple walking arm in arm catches my attention.
He puts his arm around her, pulling her closer.
They continue walking down the sidewalk, unaware of the rest of the world.
I remember feeling that way with Brady, like nothing else mattered when we were together.
But I learned that a relationship cannot survive in a bubble.
If it’s going to grow, it needs to be out in the world.
My heart and my mind know Brady and I do not work together, but they have failed to make my body understand it. I come in from the balcony and bounce on the couch, letting the soft cushions catch me.
I didn’t think Brady could get cuter than when I first laid eyes on him at Clarkson but his body looks more developed, a bit more muscular, and his eyes are maybe deeper set, and that ass.
Fuck. He knows he has the hottest ass in the world.
I try to keep my cool around it but come on.
He got out of the taxi downstairs in front of me and his ass was completely in my face.
I wanted to pull down his pants and bury my face in it like I did at Homecoming.
It was an epic night of pleasure that has been in my spank bank ever since.
My dick pops up, reminding me that I haven’t jerked off in almost an entire day and I might not get a chance to soon.
I can picture the way his cheeks curve perfectly.
I spit on my palm and let my robe open wider.
I’m about to check out the lotion in the bathroom when I hear the lock on the door open and I immediately stand up, shut my robe and close the belt so tightly I cough.
I see my anatomy book on the side table and grab it as a prop.
“Oh, hey, you’re back. How did it go? I was just studying after taking a shower.” I hold my book up even though it’s upside down. I make sure my body is twisted so that he can’t see anything below my waist.
“Studying?” He rolls his eyes. I’m about to make an argument about how preparing for medical school is a full-time job when he says, “Only you would land in one of the most vibrant cities in the world and take the first opportunity to crack open a book.”
“Yeah, that’s me, full-time nerd,” I say, and think about the goldfish I had who died when I was nine so my dick will go down. “How did the meeting go?” I take a pair of jeans and fresh t-shirt out of my bag before I dash into the bathroom and change so I can face him without incrimination.
“Fine,” he says when I come back out, but his lips thin and he looks down to the side. That means the meeting did not go fine.
“What happened?” I feel myself being pulled into my old habit of fixing what’s wrong. But we are working together this summer even if we aren’t together. If something happened at the meeting, I want to know so we can address it and develop a treatment plan.
“Aisha went over the schedule, all the ah… I don’t know… stuff she wants, and it’s a lot. More than I thought,” he says and walks over to one of the bags the attendant placed on a luggage rack.
“I saw the schedule you sent me. It’s intense, but we can take it a step at a time.
Day by day.” They have us capturing content at the major sites of each city but also at some obscure places.
They also want social stuff too like beaches, pool time and things like that.
But they’re mostly focused on the visual storytelling which he’s great at so it shouldn’t be as hard as he thinks.
“There is something else I haven’t told you,” he says, standing in front of me, lips even thinner and cheeks pale enough to show under his bronzer. He opens his mouth, about to say something, but he can’t get the words out.
“What? Brady, we’re in this together.” I try to look in his eyes but he’s looking down. Is he keeping something from me?
He starts to say something then stops and throws himself on the bed and shakes his head like he’s changing the channel in his brain.
“Hayes, what have I gotten myself into?” He stares up at the ceiling and I take a seat on the edge of the bed.
“They want a bunch of metrics and goals and a certain type of engagement. I don’t know if I can do it.
I know you’re counting on me. Maybe I should go downstairs and tell Aisha that I’m in over my head. I’ll pay for your flight home.”
As soon as those words come out of his mouth he sits up.
He knows anything around him paying for me is a touchy subject, but I know he didn’t mean he would take pity on me and pay for my way home out of charity.
I can see he’s in distress. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“I didn’t mean I would pay for you. I know… ”
I stop him. “Brady, it’s fine. You’re right, I need this job.
I looked through some of what you sent me and yeah, they want certain goals and stuff, but you can do that.
You can do anything you set your mind to.
Don’t forget the B- you got in Biology,” I say.
It’s a solid piece of evidence but I wonder if it’s fair to use right now.
Bringing up the class where I was assigned as his tutor and the study sessions that led to us being a couple is maybe too volatile.
“A B- is not exactly Dean’s List.” He covers his face with his hand.
“You thought you were going to fail and you passed. You more than passed. A B- is a respectable grade.”
“Ha!” Brady darts up. “Like you have ever gotten a B- in your entire life in anything.” He gets up from the bed and starts pacing around the room.
“I have,” I say, and don’t elaborate. Once I got a B- on a spelling test in fifth grade, but that was the only time.
I still hate any word with an I-E in it.
“But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we did that together.
We can do it together again.” I can’t stand to see him feeling so desperate.
Maybe it’s the part of me that wants to help people stay healthy, or maybe it’s the part of me that still feels connected to Brady.
It doesn’t matter, because I need this to work too.
I can’t have him pay for my flight home and go back without the money for my next deposit.
“Do you really think so?” He stands right in front of me.
His eyes lower and then he looks up at me.
Those hazel pools needing so much approval.
It’s still impossible for me to deny them.
How can I want to kiss him on the eyes right now when he almost ruined my life?
It’s not my dick thinking. It’s my heart.
He has been super sweet since we started this thing and he hasn’t lied to me or manipulated me at all.
I want to help him get through this. That’s why he brought me here. The problem-solver in me kicks in.
I walk over to the window and pull back the sheer curtain to reveal the bustling street with cab drivers, cyclists and pedestrians moving in different directions.
The clouds are breaking apart and sunlight spills across the white row houses in front of us and the massive skyscrapers in the distance, making them look like polished stalagmites.
“Do you see that out there? It’s an entire city we can explore. We have an entire continent on our agenda. I want to see it all,” I say, hoping my enthusiasm for the summer adventure will help ignite his.
Brady gets up from the bed and stands next to me to take in the view. “We are not going to fail at this. Brady and Hayes do not fail. We may not be a couple anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a team. Let’s go London. Let’s go us.”
I go to put my arm around him and then pull myself back.
But the urge to connect with him physically is deep inside me.
I go with my gut and place my hand on his shoulder so the inside of my arm is across his back.
I smile down at him and watch his eyebrows move apart and his mouth untwist. I feel his body relax and he gently shifts his weight toward the curve of my arm.
I catch a glimpse of the couch where I diligently set up the sheets to create a clear boundary between us, but here I am, already crossing it.
I pat his shoulder with my hand and step away before it’s too late.
For a second, the confusion that flashes across his face makes my heart ache but we both know there’s no way we can ever get back to the physical intimacy we once shared.
I step away from him and pull the folder with the printed itinerary from the front pocket of my bag.
Without looking back, I move to the table by the window, put the folder on it and deliberately pull out the chair at the opposite end for him.
“Let’s get to work,” I say. Brady takes his seat across from me and I remind myself to stay focused on the work and not to get that close to him again.
We are here to do a job, get paid, and go our separate ways at the end of the summer.