15. Hayden
Hayden
T ripp’s headlights blind me as he parks in front of my open garage door. He doesn’t get surprised to find me out here anymore. With a whole mansion to pick from, I prefer the garage over empty, echoing halls, and he doesn’t question it.
“Manchester Brewing?” I try to sound like it’s a random suggestion. Casual. After all, we go all the time.
“Ivy’s there tonight for some big trivia event; it’s supposed to be crowded. Want to hit Rusty’s instead?”
“I like trivia.”
“Alright, whatever you want. Just let me tell her we’re coming. It would be weird if I crashed her girls’ night unannounced.”
I follow him out of the garage and head to the passenger side of his Land Rover. “We can just sit at the bar, stay out of the way,” I suggest.
Out of the way, but I need to see for my own eyes what happens if Trevor shows. Maybe what I’m doing is unhealthy, but when it comes to Poppy, I really am a glutton for punishment.
Bottomline, I need to know.
As we pull into the parking lot of the brewery though, I wonder if there will even be a spot at the bar. The place is packed. So packed, Tripp has to park in the grass instead of the lot.
When we step inside the brewery that has been converted from a barn, it’s clear that the parking lot was an accurate representation of what’s happening here. There’s no spot at the bar. There are no empty tables, either.
“Looks like we are in fact crashing girls’ night,” Tripp says as he finds Ivy in the crowd and makes a beeline for her.
A smile spreads across his girlfriend’s face as he approaches, and I think of how nice it would be to have someone so happy to see me.
Because as I steal a glance at Poppy, I find her glaring at me like I just kicked a puppy or something.
“Hi, boys, have a seat.” Stevie motions to the bench before us. She’s at least smiling at me.
“We aren’t here to intrude, I didn’t expect it to be so crowded,” Tripp replies before planting a kiss on Ivy’s forehead.
“Don’t be silly, join us. After all, we’re celebrating the show, and Hayden is a part of that,” Wren says, ignoring the way Poppy’s daggers are now directed towards her.
I stiffen, prepared for my co-star to tell me to get lost, to stop trying to steal her thunder. But she remains eerily silent, her attention swinging back to study me with a calculating gaze. Maybe she’s sizing me up, like a lioness about to pounce.
“Sit, it will be fun,” Ivy says, pulling Tripp’s arm until he obliges.
“Poppy, is that okay?” I ask.
“Sure, like they said, you’re involved with the show too.” Her tone is even, impossible to read.
Tripp and I exchange a glance. Looks like we are joining girls’ night.
I swing a leg over the bench and sit down as Stevie motions to a pitcher and stack of plastic cups in the center of the table. “Have a drink.”
“We’ll switch up our trivia partners. We can’t leave the guys on their own,” Wren suggests.
“It isn’t one big team?” Tripp asks, pouring beer for himself and then passing one to me.
“Teams of two. And if you notice, this is a fairly female dominated competition pool tonight.”
“What’s the theme?” I glance around the brewery, looking for any signs or decorations that hint at it. Instead, I’m greeted with the typical barn wood and glass industrial doors. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“The TV show, Friends .” Stevie grins knowingly at me and I immediately smile back, an unspoken memory passing between us.
“Ivy will take Tripp, of course. But you’d better not be expecting me to take Hayden,” Poppy says.
There she is. That’s my girl. I stifle a chuckle and shake my head. “Don’t worry, ladies. Tripp and I will be partners. We’ve got this.”
“We do?” He looks up from his beer with a frown.
Stevie and I exchange another glance as she says, “I think you’ll be just fine, Tripp.”
Poppy
We’re in the final round of trivia—general show facts—and it’s clear that Hayden has an absurd knowledge of Friends . He has gotten nearly every question correct. It seems there is no end to the many tricks he has up his sleeve, and I wonder if I really know him at all.
The biggest mystery though is his motivations.
That’s a card he’s yet to play. Because it’s clear it’s not a coincidence he is here right now.
He heard me talking about this. If he had always planned to be here tonight, he would have spoken up at the bakery.
But, if he’s here to mess with me, it seems like a bit much. Even for him.
“Next question,” the moderator calls into the microphone. “What is the name of Ross’s son?”
I scribble down the name on our white board and show it to Wren to confirm. Across the way, Tripp doesn’t even bother to answer. He sits back and watches Hayden write something.
A buzzer goes off and the moderator calls out, “Show ‘em!”
I flip the board around and hold it up just as Hayden does as well. He’s written Ben . Right again.
“Next question, how many sisters does Joey have?”
There is no way he gets this one. I grin to myself as I write down the number. Looking back up, I see him watching me with a smirk of his own. “Got this one?” Hayden asks.
“No talking between contestants,” I shoot back.
“That’s not a rule,” Stevie points out, taking a sip of her drink. The buzzer sounds as I glare at her, and I jump to flip my board. Hayden holds his up with one hand, throwing back his beer with the other.
Seven . He’s right again.
“How do you know that?” I groan.
“Regretting not taking me as your partner?” he asks with a wink.
I open my mouth to snap back at him when the moderator booms into the mic. “What is Monica’s biggest pet peeve?”
Hayden drops the board and writes furiously. Tripp looks over his shoulder and laughs. “How do you know all of this?” he asks.
Shrugging at Tripp’s question, he looks at me and says, “Better hurry and get your answer down, Pop.”
I’m just putting the cap back on my dry erase maker and confirming with Wren when the buzzer sounds. Animals dressed as humans . He got it right again.
“Last question, ladies and gents, and there is some flexibility with the wording,” the moderator announces excitedly. “What is a lobster?”
Tripp glances around the table. “There is flexibility with that?”
Ivy leans over and whispers the answer in his ear, eliciting a smile that fills his face. I hear him whisper back, “So you’re my lobster?” and watch her nod with a smile of her own.
I’d love to have what they do. But right now, I have a competition to focus on. I scrawl out my definition of the pop culture reference and look up to see Hayden watching me with a fixed gaze. Did he write down an answer?
The buzzer sounds, but all I can focus on is how I’m pinned under the intensity of his hypnotizing stare. He never breaks eye contact with me when he turns his board. A person you’re meant to be with forever , he wrote.
“Do you believe in lobsters, Poppy?” Hayden asks in a low voice.
My pulse quickens from his sultry tone, heat pooling low in my core. For the second time today, he has me completely weak at the knees. I need another drink.
He hasn’t looked away, and when the corner of his lip tips up, I know it’s time to get out of here.
“Another round?” I ask to no one in particular, hoping they don’t catch how breathy I sound.
“Yeah, I’d say one more,” Wren agrees, looking curiously between him and I. When a murmur of agreement passes through the table, I stand and bolt for the bar.
Hayden spent the night watching me like a hawk. I’ve spent the night trying to avoid the moments I get caught in his charged trap I can’t seem to pull away from. These little spells are foreign. I don’t know how to act if we’re not fighting, it’s all we’ve ever done.
“Can I get you a drink?”
I look up, expecting to see a bartender. But there’s no one in front of me. Turning, my attention catches on the man at my side. He must be a tourist, because I don’t recognize him from town. The man flashes me a sparkling smile, awaiting my response.
“Oh, no thanks. I’m getting a round for my group.”
“Maybe you can spare a few minutes to have a drink with me before heading back to them?” he replies hopefully.
“I wouldn’t want to keep them waiting,” I try again casually to deter him.
“What’s your name?” he asks, clearly not taking my subtle hints.
“What can I get for you?”
Saved by the bartender. I turn towards the familiar face and order another pitcher for my table, hoping this guy can take a hint now that I have my back to him. When the tourist leans in closer, pressing his shoulder against mine, I conclude that he did not get the hint.
“One drink, red. Give me time to get your name,” he requests, leaning in so his lips are near my ear.
“Red?” I struggle to keep my voice even. This guy is bold. “If you’re into redheads, which by the way I’m not one, there are probably plenty in this place tonight. I’m not sure if you noticed, but it’s practically wall to wall women.”
“I’m not interested in them though,” he purrs. Reaching out, he trails his hand down my upper arm, eliciting shivers across my skin. And not the good kind.
“I suggest you remove your hand before I remove it for you,” a deep voice growls behind us.
I spin, knocking against Hayden who steps closer and wraps me in his protective embrace.
“We were just talking,” the tourist scoffs, lifting his hands in the air. He’s wide eyed and backing away.
Tilting back, I steal a glance at Hayden’s face. His ocean blue eyes are stormy and unrelenting. I would hate to be on the receiving end of that look. And when he drops his focus to me for the briefest second, and the furious blue softens to the familiar calm ocean I know, my heart flutters.
He tightens his arm around me and flashes back to hurricane force anger as he looks at the man and says, “It didn’t look like talking.”
“Sorry, I’ll let you be,” the tourist mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hayden. Long gone is his sparkling smile and heady confidence, replaced by genuine fear.
I relax against Hayden’s chest, watching my wannabe suitor retreat. It shouldn’t be so sexy to have a man marking his territory.
But it is.
Except… I am not his territory. Far from it, in fact. The realization of what’s happening hits me like a lightning bolt, and I ricochet from his arms as if he’s the source of the shock.
“What do you think you are doing?” I hiss. I can’t decide if I’m more upset with him, or myself. Because what was I just doing, curling into his embrace like that?
I don’t wait for his answer, and I don’t wait for the bartender to return. I push past him and head for the back doors leading to the beer garden. The fresh air washes over my flushed cheeks and I duck around the corner to collect myself.
“Poppy, stop.” Hayden catches up in an instant, stepping into the shadows with me.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I say when he leans against the wall beside me.
He throws his head back and stares up into the starry sky. With a sigh, he replies, “Most people would just say thank you.”
“You’re off the clock, Baywatch. I don’t need to be rescued.” I fold my arms across my chest and look away, feeling his gaze hot on my skin. He doesn’t answer for a moment, simply watching me.
“Fine,” he sighs again. “Do you want the truth? Maybe I hated seeing someone else touch you like that.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, instead he pushes off the wall and steps back inside. Which is for the best, because I have no response. He’s stunned me into silence. Short circuited my brain. All I can think about, on a loop, is the way he emphasized someone else .
Did he mean someone other than him?
“Hey, there you are! Are you okay?” Stevie asks, stepping into the night.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed some air.”
“It’s a beautiful night,” she breathes, taking Hayden’s spot on the wall beside me.
We watch the stars in silence, and it’s the reprieve I needed. There’s something about taking space alongside the people that make you feel safe. It can be more powerful than having the moment alone.
“Don’t worry, I’m the only one who saw,” Stevie whispers after a while.
“Saw what?”
“You and Hayden at the bar, and then him chasing you out here.”
“Oh, that.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. Not tonight anyway. But I don’t know how to act when we go back to the table and see him. And I hate that he has me questioning myself.”
Stevie nods and takes my hand. “You act however you damn well please. You’re Poppy fucking Wheeler.”
A scratchy laugh escapes me. “Well, when you put it like that.”
“Do you want to just leave?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to run away from our night.”
Arm in arm, we head back into the brewery to be met by Ivy and Wren just steps from the door. “The guys left, want to go grab ice cream and hit the beach?”
“I really do, yes.” I grin at them, my shoulders relaxing at the reprieve.
Wren spins her finger in the air, motioning for us to turn around. “Then let’s get out of here.”
“Wait, I left before getting our drinks. And what about the tab?” I look over my shoulder at the bar as they start to push me outside.
“That pitcher won’t go to waste, someone will grab it. And Hayden picked up the tab,” Ivy replies. “He said to tell you congratulations on the first episode.”
My heart sinks. I should have just thanked him for saving me from the abrasive tourist. I did appreciate it. We could have walked back to the table together and celebrated our win. Because as much as it pains me to say it, this first episode is our win.