Chapter 11
“The hikers might have undergone something called paradox un—dammit—paradoxical undressing. Why is that word so hard for me to say today?” Hayden fumbles, yet again.
My eyes rise from the script in my hands as Hayden circles the word several times in red pen on his own script.
My confrontation with Cade over the weekend is still fresh in my mind. It’d been hard to think ahead for most of the day. At least when Nora came home, I had something to distract me. She let Lizzie have some “out” time, where she wandered around the living room. That night, even Lizzie sensed my sadness. She gave me a weird lick I didn’t like, but I appreciated her concern.
Now, back at work, I’m determined to channel that pain into one hell of an episode.
The Skroll recording booths are a stiflingly small space to be confined all afternoon with the man who I woke up snuggling days before. I feel way too aware of Hayden’s height and the steady calm his presence always brings as we stand next to one another in front of the raised mic. The room smells like him mixed with an elementary school computer lab, full of warm static and the tang of metal.
“Paradoxical undressing,” I say, without flaw.
“Maybe this should be your line. I’m obviously cursed today.”
I clear my throat. Behind me, Hayden leans against the padded walls, sliding the pen between his teeth as he studies the script. He’s so focused he doesn’t notice how long I watch him. The swell of biceps beneath his flannel and the naturally mussed shock of hair keep my eyes hanging on him longer than I care to admit.
“Can I improvise?” I ask.
“Go for it.”
As I speak, harsh feedback screeches through our headphones, making both of us jump. Hayden tosses his headphones off with a surprised “fuck!” and the pen flies into the air. He lowers the microphone volumes like they are controls on a nuclear reactor.
“What the hell was that?” I remove my headphones, too.
“I might have moved the computer too close to the mic. No big deal.”
Hayden slides his headphones back over his ears. He jumps to the next part of the script and I realize I can’t hear him in mine.
“My headphones aren’t working,” I inform him.
He backs away again and toys with a few settings on the switchboard before returning to me. He steps behind me and heat rises to my cheeks as he adjusts the headphones over my ears. A swipe of a finger runs along the back of my neck, sending shivers all over my body. His laugh comes as a soft puff of breath against my back.
This shouldn’t set me off like it does.
I could question it further, but when he finishes adjusting the headphones, his hands rest on my shoulders, a thumb stroking the surface of my upper back. This is a sick game to play. His touch rushes to the pit of my stomach and lower. I scrunch my neck and sigh softly, leaning closer to him. His proximity is intoxicating and my body wants more. I could do so many things to him in a soundproof booth.
“Can you hear me now?” he says into the mic. His voice comes through the speakers so low, slightly raspy from the amount of talking we’ve done today. I want him so much closer, to hear his voice right beside my ear, feel him breathing behind me, the rattle and vibration of his words sending chills up and down my body.
“I can.”
“Good.” It’s deep and intentional and it makes my knees wobble.
A single word in Hayden’s sultry voice, and I have to unbutton the top of my shirt to cool myself.
As Hayden begins his next line, loud yelping bleeds into the room. He frowns through the window. When I swing open the door, I’m not sure why I’m shocked to find Cade and the boys as the source of the chaos. I pull the door shut behind me.
Instantly, Cade swings back with a smile. “Oh, hey, Hal.”
But there’s a certain anger behind his steely blue eyes over the fact that I still have not backed down from the show.
“Please be quiet,” I say.
“You working?”
“No, I’m sitting in a recording studio trying to meditate.” I cross my arms. “Yes, I’m working.”
“Right, sorry, I wouldn’t want to disturb the little ghosts.”
“My little ghost show got sixty thousand views last week.” I know damn well his got only fifty-five K. Cade rakes a hand through his beach-blond hair, pursing his lips.
“You don’t need to get so defensive.”
“You can call my show by its name.”
The recording studio door swings open behind me. Suddenly, an entirely new fear arises. I don’t want Hayden to know who Cade is to me. Cade could end everything good here with a single word. I can’t bear the idea of Cade exerting his persuasion on Hayden, and I can’t stand the unfounded fear that Hayden might believe him. He’s convinced everyone at Skroll he can do no wrong for so many years. He’s painted a harsh picture of me and I can’t control who buys it.
Hayden’s hand rests on the small of my back, and now I’m concerned for other (horny) reasons. I can’t show Cade any of my cards. I especially can’t show him how into my co-host I am. It’s information he’d do his worst with.
“Hi,” Hayden says. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Hayden.”
Cade holds out a limp handshake, which Hayden accepts. “Cade Browning. You must be the conspiracy theorist guy Hallie picked up off Reddit.”
Hayden shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, towering over Cade. “Actually, I was on TV.”
“Right.” Cade rubs at the fleshy-colored stubble on his chin. “It’s funny. Hallie doesn’t believe in any of this stuff. I can’t believe this is the kind of show she’d do. You know that, right?”
Cade has obviously not watched any of our episodes.
“I’m well aware that young Hallie has a lot of learning to do.” Hayden’s hand rests on my head, ruffling my blue waves. I swat him away. “We’re working on it.”
“Best of luck to you. That one’s a handful.”
I’m sure Hayden’s picturing quirky things like my exasperated yelling as he tells me an absolutely batshit theory or asking a Ouija board if a ghost was a virgin or not.
“When she’s not provoking demons, she’s a delight to work with,” Hayden says.
Cade chuckles, and his voice lowers. “I mean, man to man, Hallie was supposed to be my producer before I let her go. Chloe only let her make this show so she didn’t get fired. No one wanted to work with her otherwise. Not your fault. You didn’t know any better.”
Hayden’s jaw clenches and his eyes narrow. Cade’s comment leaves me feeling like I’m going to explode. Cade is like a snake in more ways than one, and when he’s threatened, he unleashes more poison. I have to swallow my tears, straighten up, avoid eye contact, and make myself small until this is over.
I visualize what’ll come next. Hayden and I will step back into the recording booth, Hayden will ask for an answer, as in: “What the hell was that?” And I’ll be left alone again. I’ll be without a show, without a future at Skroll, and without one of the first real friends I’ve found in the past few months. Hayden will have finally learned what I’m scared everyone else already thinks: I’m hard to work with. I don’t stand out.
Instead, Hayden straightens up behind me. “It’s been going fine so far. In fact, we’re busy prepping for our next episode, so we don’t have time to chat.”
“Of course. Good to meet you, dude.”
“You know, it wasn’t that nice to meet you.” Hayden’s arm wraps around me and he shuttles me back into the booth. He lets out a disgruntled sigh and turns around. “Well, that guy’s a dick.”
“Yeah.” I nod slowly and divert my eyes. I used to save tears for the shower or the bathroom in the middle of the night, sometimes my car. I’d save them for a place where no one else could see.
“Hallie?” he asks. His voice is so quiet and confused. “Are you all right?”
I blink away my tears as best I can, but a few slip down my cheeks. “Fine. I’m fine.”
I’m not prepared for his touch. It’s a soft thumb along the curve of my cheek, sweeping a stray tear out of the way and tilting my chin up. I yank myself away, bending to my knees to find the closest thing to a tissue in my purse. As I dab at my eyes, the stools shift around behind me. Metal clangs against the microphones and Hayden curses under his breath.
When I turn around, he’s made his way to the ground with me. The booth is not made for anyone to sit on the floor, especially not someone Hayden’s size, but he makes it work.
“Who…who is he?”
My lip trembles. “An ex.”
“You dated him?” There’s no ire in Hayden’s voice. Not as he looks me over, hunting for parts of me that need care, or as he runs his hands down my arms, keeping me steady in front of him. No matter how low I feel, I’m not alone. He offers a warm smile and shakes his head. “Oh, Hallie, you are so out of his league.”
I stifle a laugh.
“You can’t listen to that guy, Hallie. He’s a total asshole. He had no right to speak to you like that. Besides, he’s completely wrong.”
There might always be a part of me that thinks Cade is right, no matter how far away from the pain I am. I would so much rather believe in Bigfoot or aliens than believe a word of what Cade says. But that’s not how it works. What people like Cade want most is to be able to hurt someone long after they’re gone.
“I’m not so sure about that,” I concede. “He knows what’ll shake me. Three years wasted, just for him to tell me I wasn’t funny and how I didn’t stand out. I was stupid enough to get involved with him in the first place. Stupid enough to stay that long.”
“Hallie, this is not your fault. Cade probably sensed your brilliance. That you are funny and beautiful and great at your job, and used those qualities— your qualities—to his advantage.”
I linger on one word.
Beautiful .
I’m not sure if it brings me joy, or if I should be chiding myself for falling for someone’s pretty words all over again, but I can’t find deceit and selfishness in any of Hayden’s expressions. All I see is a desperation to make me smile and to fix this.
To take care of me.
“I know that what he did clearly hurt you, but he’s so wrong. You’re not hard to work with. And you do stand out. When you’re around, it’s impossible to look away. You are the only thing I see. He’s an idiot for not knowing you make everything you touch better. Please don’t believe anything coming out of the mouth of a guy who still has frosted tips.”
I break into a laugh, a few tears dripping down my cheeks. Hayden reaches out, brushing his thumb beneath my eyes. In a matter of minutes, he’s made this recording booth change from the scariest place on Earth to the safest.
“Thanks.”
“Do you hear me?”
I nod.
Before I can stop myself, I’m in his arms, my head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. I clasp my fingers around his flannel shirt, and I’m so soothed by the sound of his heartbeat.
“It’s okay,” he repeats. His fingers wind in my hair, the scent of his cologne bringing me back down to earth. It suddenly dawns on me why he brings me a sense of peace: Hayden is the sort of person who takes care of people. He’s the kind of person who sees someone hurting and does something about it.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asks.
I nod, pulling myself to my feet. We resume where we left off, and Hayden spews terrible conspiracies, but when it’s my turn to speak, I miss my cue. I look down at the script, and I don’t know if I can deliver on these words today. I can’t joke and tease with him when I feel so much fear in being seen.
“Hallie,” Hayden prods. “We can call it for today. We can do double the work tomorrow when you’re feeling better. Besides, it’s already late.”
I don’t want to bust my ass tomorrow, but I want to put on a happy face today even less.
“Okay.”
He slips his headphones off. “Do you want to go do something?”
?
?
The sun’s gone down by the time Hayden says we’re close to our destination. He doesn’t offer any hints as to where we’re headed, but I’m more confused the farther we go. Finally, he pulls into a small parking lot and steps out of the car.
“Where are we?”
He smiles and leads me across a small green space that opens to a…playground. There are slides and climbing poles, a jumping bridge, and swings. Behind it, though, is a giant rocket ship. I’m even more alarmed when Hayden approaches and slides into the base of it.
“We’re going up there ? We drove all this way to go to a playground?”
“Yep. Come on. It’s how the aliens will know to come get us.” He holds out a hand for me as I hop onto the platform with him. I bite back a smile as I shimmy up the ladders first and wiggle through holes meant for children until I reach the top. Behind me, I hear Hayden grunting and struggling to navigate the playground. He reaches me at the top, one shoulder after the other, and tugs himself through the hole in the platform. He hardly makes it.
“This is not meant for someone my size,” he groans. “Ow.”
“You don’t say,” I tease.
As he takes a seat, he hits my arm, knocking me over. “Don’t be mean.”
Hayden slides his legs through the bars and looks out onto the city, legs dangling freely over the structure. The brisk March air hits me with a bite. We’re closer to the water, catching the wind off the ocean. I shiver and wish I’d taken my jacket from the back of Hayden’s car. I hadn’t expected to spend time outside.
Without saying anything, Hayden sheds his flannel and passes it over to me. Our fingers brush as I take it and slide it over my shoulders. It smells like him and feels like the hug he gave me earlier. The sleeves come past my hands, and I bundle myself in them, which makes Hayden smile.
“Thanks.”
He nods.
We sit in silence, letting the rush of cars on the freeway fill the air—distant honking and loud music blaring. I’ve always liked the rush of the city. Anything else is too quiet. I’ve never been one for camping or time out in the wilderness. Our upcoming Bigfoot hunt is going to be a delight. I also hate bugs with a passion, and I’ve contemplated starting a last will and testament in case I die.
“I’m sorry about today.” Hayden rubs his palm with his opposite hand and quiets. His eyes flicker up to mine. The moon glints off the lenses of his glasses, illuminating the bright greens behind them.
“It’s fine.”
“Not really.”
“You defended me more than you needed to. I appreciate it.”
“It’s still sitting with me, though,” Hayden says.
“Why? Because the more you think about it, you wonder if he’s right?” I laugh, but it hurts.
“No, because I know he’s not.” His tone feels the same as when he pushes back on his theories, arguing that of course aliens are real or that I’m being closed-minded. It’s a tone that conveys inflexibility, stubbornness. He’s not going to be talked out of this. “Hallie…I…”
I see so many words on his lips and all of them scare me.
“I’ve been alone for a really long time,” Hayden starts. His voice quiets. The confidence from moments ago is gone. “About three years, to be exact. I think if I’d let more people in near the end of my dad’s life, maybe I would have handled it better. But I was so used to keeping my feelings to myself. I never wanted my dad to know how much I was hurting. He’d blame himself or want someone else to step in so that I could breathe. So, I just didn’t.”
I scoot closer to him, sliding my legs through the bars, too. My boots hit the lower levels, laces clinking against the metal.
“When he died, I didn’t want to put that pain on someone else, either. So, I left.”
“Left?”
“I rented out the apartment my dad and I lived in in Boston and I moved out here. I could have done the podcast from wherever. I didn’t know anyone out here. My mom’s in San Francisco, but I didn’t want to turn to her, either. I started fresh by myself.
“The problem is that I never really started again. When you rebuild your life, you’re supposed to grow something new. I came out here with a podcast and a cat, and two and a half years later, all I still have is a podcast and a cat.” His voice breaks into a laugh that I match.
“You don’t even have a podcast. You have a web series now.”
“Right.” His smile feels bright, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s finally putting his pain somewhere. Like he’s decided to breathe again. “I haven’t made any friends. Haven’t really dated anyone. It scares me, so I’ve been staying the course and keeping every bit of grief at bay as best as I can. Some of those days were so dark and my depression got so debilitating that even when I wanted to try letting people in, I didn’t think anyone deserved to see me at my lowest. So, I never did. Then you emailed me.”
I lean my head against the bars and glance up at him. He matches my posture with a smile.
“Something told me this was a chance I had to take, even if it scared me.” He bites his lip. “It might have been my psychiatrist at first, but I did make the choice on my own. The sadness and the hurt are still there. But now it feels like something good is there, too. There hasn’t been something good there in a long time.”
I reach across the platform, my fingers skimming the holes in the tiles until I find his hand. I tread carefully, running my fingertips along the base of his wrist until our fingers weave together. Holding his hand is so easy. We fit together too well.
Touching him is a conscious choice, and despite my worst fears—falling for someone who could hurt me, dating another coworker, how Cade might respond—when he brushes his thumb against the back of my palm, I know this is what I’m supposed to do.
“I’m sorry he hurt you and that he doesn’t see how special you are, Hallie. Everyone should be in awe of you like I am because you deserve it. I’m really lucky that it was me you found and took a chance on.”
I squeeze his hand. I don’t know what to say to him that can match what he’s given me. After a moment, he pulls his feet out of the bars and scoots back, leaning on the platform ground, his eyes cast up at the sky. I join him and trace my thumb over the UFO tattoo on his wrist. If he tells me he has feelings for me, I’ll have no choice but to reciprocate. Anything else would be a blatant lie.
I try to imagine the least sexy things I can—alien probing, Loch Ness Monster blubber, the Skunk Ape. But instead, as I look at where our hands rest together, all that comes to mind is what it’d feel like if his hands were on other parts of me.
I spend all my days watching Hayden’s hands take notes, edit audio, type scripts, and run through his hair when he’s stressed or confused or bewildered. I want to watch him put his hands on me, something light at first, like a stroke of the cheek, hands on my waist, then more forceful. I want fistfuls of his hair between my fingers, the feel of his stubble against my lips, my jaw, my neck.
Like he can read my mind, he turns on his side, claiming a handful of his flannel on me and tugging me closer to him. He holds me against him with a grip on my waist. His body is warm and firm where we connect. Our legs tangle together, his hips flush against mine. Heat pools in my stomach as he leans in closer. My eyes flutter shut as the plastic frames of his glasses leave a cool press against my forehead.
I feel every breath he takes and count them.
One.
Two.
Three.
At four, I reach for what I want. His cheeks are rough beneath my touch, but the curve of his lip is soft and full. I want to taste him and hear the sounds he makes as I kiss him harder. I ponder if they’ll sound like the frustrated “hmphs” he makes when something stumps him or more like the heady breaths he lets out as he sleeps.
My heart hammers in my chest. He swallows, parting his lips. Hayden toys with the bottom of my shirt and brushes the sensitive skin along my hip. A soft gasp slips out of me that makes him smile. As his tongue runs along the inside of his lips, I freeze.
I can’t do this.
No matter how badly my body wants him—from the ache that blooms in my chest and between my legs to the tremble in my fingers as I find a lock of his soft hair—falling in love with someone is the scariest thing a person can do, and I know what happens if I fall for the wrong person. I want to believe Hayden is the type of person it’s safe to love, but I’m still afraid to trust him with the most fragile parts of me.
“I…I can’t.”
His eyes open as he pulls himself out of his own trance. He studies me carefully, tasting a phantom kiss on his lips. But instead of confusion, there’s understanding. He sucks in a deep breath and nods.
“It’s okay.”
I might not be able to kiss him like I want to—not yet—but I can’t fathom pulling away from him. Instead, I weave myself closer to him, resting my head on his chest. He knows just what to do. His arms envelop me, keeping me tight against his body. I fall into him completely, as hard as I’m falling for him.
A plane races across the night sky.
“UFO,” I say.
“A plane .” Hayden laughs and it vibrates through my entire body.
“Wow, who’s the nonbeliever now?”
The Out There
Episode #4: “Not Even REI Can Save You”
On this week’s episode of The Out There , Hayden and Hallie investigate the Dyatlov Pass Incident, where nine hikers died under mysterious circumstances in the Ural Mountains of Russia. Was it an avalanche, government testing, or…the abominable snowman?
HAYDEN
Let’s go over how each of these hikers died.
HALLIE
Cheery!
HAYDEN
Six apparently died of hypothermia. The other three, however, died of physical trauma, ranging from severe chest trauma and internal bleeding to a fatal skull injury. Some of those who died of hypothermia also had physical injuries and abrasions. Two hikers were missing their eyes and one was missing her tongue. Oh, and another one had missing eyebrows. The final conclusion the prosecutors in the investigation came to was: “The cause of their demise was an overwhelming force which the hikers were not able to overcome.”
HALLIE
Wow, give us nothing!
HAYDEN
Doesn’t that make you raise your eyebrows a little bit?
HALLIE
Is that insensitive since one of them lost their eyebrows?
HAYDEN
See, you do listen to me sometimes.
HALLIE
I was prepared to tap out when you started talking about the Yeti, to be fair.
HAYDEN
All right, there is some gravity to the Yeti theory, actually. For example, one of the hikers took a photo where there was a blurry, large figure looming in the background and some people have theorized that they could have gotten photo proof of their attacker. What I have also found interesting is the fact that the tent was ripped open from the inside with a knife, and the way the bodies were found does really make it seem like they were running from something, you know?
HALLIE
Like a Yeti?
HAYDEN
Well, yeah. They also were in various states of undress, which gives off a sense of panic.
HALLIE
They were a bunch of college-aged hikers. I don’t think the scantily clad part necessarily has to do with the abominable snowman, Hayden.
HAYDEN
It’s Siberia, Hallie. You really think they were having tent sex in the middle of the tundra?
HALLIE
Sharing body heat and all that. And like, what else are you going to do?
HAYDEN
Is that what you would do if you were hiking in the tundra?
HALLIE
No, because there is no universe where I would be hiking in the middle of Siberia in the first place. You couldn’t pay me to put on a pair of snowshoes and go camping.
HAYDEN
Hmm, sounds like a challenge—
HALLIE
And the end of our friendship.