7. Madison
MADISON
L ater in the evening, the bathroom door closes softly behind me, and the steam still lingers in the air, curling around my body as I step back into the main dorm room. Chapel said she’d be at work for most of the night, so it seemed like a good time to get a shower in. I’m wrapped in a towel, the fabric clinging to my body like a second skin. I feel the dampness on my hair dripping down my neck, causing a chill to run through my body.
When I see him, my breath catches in my throat. Hayden is lounging on my bed like he owns it, like he owns this entire room, and since he furnished ninety percent of it, I guess he kind of does. The weight of him fills the space as easily as his presence fills every thought in my head.
He’s wearing a navy Castlebrook hockey hoodie, the logo across his chest taunting me with the implication that this place belongs to him. His gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, just the right amount of casual. His messy hair makes my fingers twitch because I want to brush it back to get a better look at his eyes. His stare is intense and never leaves me as I step further into the room.
I roll my eyes, trying to hide the way my pulse accelerates. "Miss me?" He tosses a gummy bear in the air, catches it and then flashes me that cocky grin of his. He flops back against my pillows like he’s been waiting here all day. Like he’s entitled to take up space in my life, in my room.
I try not to let the way he looks at me affect me. He’s too damn attractive for anyone’s well-being. The way his chest fills out the hoodie, the way his jawline sharpens as he grins... I can’t fucking stand it.
I’m standing there in nothing but my towel, the cool air that seeps in ancient buildings making me shiver slightly as I feel his gaze trail over me. The vulnerability hits me like a slap in the face, but I won’t let him see it. I stand my ground, squaring my shoulders.
"What do you want, Hayden?" I force the words out, trying to sound like I’m not completely rattled.
He lifts his gaze, his eyes raking over me, slowly, deliberately, and my stomach tightens. “I want to know that you’re safe.” His voice is low, like gravel, and it makes the hairs on my neck stand up. His hands are relaxed on the bedspread, but there's tension in the way he holds himself. It's almost like he’s waiting for something to happen, or maybe trying to stop himself from acting on whatever impulse is running through his mind right now. “I assumed since you didn’t want to answer my texts, you wanted me to come over instead,” he continues, his grin curling upward just slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s mad at me, I think? Or is that genuine hurt I see?
I swallow, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest. I can’t let him have control over me. I can’t. I move toward the dresser, my hand brushing against it as I try to get some space.
“I figured ignoring your incessant text messages all day would clue you in on how much I miss you,” I bite out sarcastically, but I know it’s not enough. There’s a part of me, far too much of me, that does miss the guy I gave my first kiss to. If I’m honest, I crave him, but I know I can’t have that. His eyes darken, the playfulness vanishing in an instant. The shift is so subtle but so intense that I don’t know whether to back away or move closer. I don’t even know if I can back away.
He steps toward me. My heart slams against my ribs as I realize I’ve backed myself into the corner of the room. I can't move, not with him standing so close. I’m boxed in by his broad chest, by the heat radiating off of him. He’s tall. So damn tall. And right now, I feel small. Vulnerable. Exposed.
I laugh. It’s a nervous laugh, but it’s the only thing I can do to fight off whatever this is bubbling between us. “Do you think me being worried about you when you could be a target of whoever killed our parents is funny?” he asks, his voice dipping in that low tone he uses just for me.
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my laughter dies in my throat. "What?" My voice cracks slightly. “Why would whoever it was be after me? Everyone is saying it was a bad business deal and your mother got caught in the crossfire.”
Hayden breathes in deeply, his expression hardening as if he’s weighing his next words carefully. He takes a step closer, and I feel my heart race. "And the asshole that was following you home from that shitty ass truck stop? Was he one of your father’s bad business deals or...?" His eyes are molten now, filled with dark possessiveness.
My stomach drops because I feel completely exposed because he clearly knows more about my life than I do. Hayden’s hand lifts slowly, and before I can think to move away, his fingers are cupping my cheek. I don’t pull away because I can’t force myself. His touch feels so comforting, which surprises me.
“There’s something you need to consider,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “I’d kill every last motherfucker on this planet before I let someone hurt you.”
I swallow hard, my breath catching as I look up at him, silently pleading with him to make this ache I have for him dissipate.
I want to say something, but he leans down and crashes his lips against mine. It’s rough, it’s urgent, and it’s everything I’ve been trying to ignore. He pulls me in, molding my body against his, and I lose myself in him. His hands tangle in my damp hair, tugging me closer, and my arms find their way around his neck, pulling him deeper.
This kiss? It’s insane. It’s everything I want, and nothing I’m meant to have. His body is hard against mine, every muscle tight under his hoodie. He’s hard, and as he grinds against me, I can feel how much he wants me.
Hayden groans into my mouth, a low, raw sound, and I can’t help but let him take control. I feel his desire for me in every inch of his body, in the way he presses against me, in the way he flicks his tongue, trying to taste every angle of my mouth. My towel slips slightly, but enough to expose one of my breasts. As if on instinct, his large palm comes up quickly to cover it, kneading it like he’s been dying to touch me for eternity. He pinches my nipple, rolling it between his fingers.”Fuck, baby,” is all he gets out before his mouth is back on mine.
I sigh, leaning further into him, but it’s Hayden who pulls away reluctantly, both of us gasping for breath. His hands move to my face, his fingers brushing over my lips like he can’t believe this is happening either.
“I’m going to let you get dressed now on one condition,” he says, voice rough, low. “Because if I don’t leave right now, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from peeling you out of that towel. So I’m going to leave, if you come to my next hockey game. Front row. There to watch me.” He makes a low sound like he’s annoyed when he adds, “ Only me.”
I want to grab him, pull him back to me and tell him that I want him to do just what he’s saying he shouldn’t. I stop myself because he’s right. Normally I’d fight him on this. There is no way I want to be at a college hockey game, igniting more rumors that I’m sleeping with my soon to be stepbrother. I don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him and win right now so I nod, but it’s almost like I can’t move. He steps back and makes his way to the door. I don’t miss the fact that he dips his hand inside his sweats, adjusting himself so his hard bulge isn’t quite so obvious. I press my thighs together and I feel the wet heat pooling there, pulsing with a need that only Hayden can quench.
He pauses at the door looking over his shoulder, and his words send a shiver down my spine. “Don’t ignore my texts, or I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to have a sleepover.”