38. Possessive
Chapter thirty-eight
Possessive
Aurora Driscoll
I toy with my pen, spinning it on top of my notebook.
All of my work that I need to get done today is finished.
I’m sore from training this morning and have rehearsals tonight, so I don’t want to go see if there’s a studio free to dance in.
Based on the shared Google calendar Saylor created for our friend group, all of my roommates are in class or practice of some sort right now.
A sigh escapes me as I look around the library. I’ve camped out at the spot I tutor Hayes at, though we aren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow. There’s something comforting about the table by the window. Memories of our conversations here flit through my mind, making my lips turn up in a smile.
The cozy bubble I’m in pops when I hear a grating voice snicker behind me.
“I told you he’d drop her,” Mckinleigh says, far too loudly, as though she wants me to hear her.
I cast a surreptitious glance over my shoulder. She’s two tables behind me, sitting down with a group of friends.
“It’s sad, really,” she continues. I clench my teeth. “All of these girls think they can get Hayes to settle down, that they’re special, but they’re not.”
I roll my eyes, almost laughing at the irony of her words. By her logic, she’s included in that group of women who have tried and failed to keep his attention. I pull out my phone without a second thought and text Hayes.
Aurora: What are you doing right now?
Prince Charming: Whatever you tell me to.
A smile stretches my lips at his reply.
Aurora: Be serious, Prince Charming
Seconds later, my phone rings, Hayes’s contact shining on the screen. I answer it.
“I am serious,” he says, continuing our text conversation.
I can’t help but giggle at his insistent tone.
“And if I told you to do whatever you were planning before I texted?” I challenge.
He lets out an exaggerated sigh.
“I suppose I’d tell you that I’m about to head to Haymakers to train. Why? What are you up to?”
I spin my pen again, suddenly realizing how silly it is that I’ve called him. He’s busy, and I’m just … I don’t know what I am.
“I’m in the library,” I reply, as though that’s a complete answer.
“You miss me,” Hayes accuses in a teasing tone. “You texted because you want to see me.”
I gape, sputtering, “No—that’s not—I’m bored, that’s all.”
He chuckles, warm and low. “Don’t worry, Princess, I won’t make you admit it—not this time.”
Heat climbs up my neck to my cheeks. I don’t say a word.
“I’ll be at the library in a few minutes,” he says, amusement in his voice. “Would you want to come to Haymakers? I’m supposed to meet a friend there, but I can cancel.”
“No, don’t cancel,” I say, shaking my head though he can’t see me. “I can come along, if I won’t bother you.”
“You could never bother me.” My toes curl in my boots at his low, raspy voice. “You might distract me, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
I bite my lip.
“Okay, then I’ll come.”
“Good. See you in a few.”
“See you,” I murmur before hanging up.
As soon as I do, Mckinleigh’s voice is on full blast again.
“Now that he’s done with her, it’s only a matter of time before he comes crawling back to me. I mean, I have what he wants. I’m a legacy at Gamma Kappa Delta. Our moms rushed together, and even though they went to different sororities, they’re basically sisters.”
My brows rise. The girl should join the circus, because she’s an expert at jumping to conclusions.
“Totally,” another girl confirms. “He’s a Rosewood. His parents aren’t going to let him date just anyone.”
Worry pricks at the edge of my mind. Hayes and I are going to see his parents this upcoming weekend, and I’ve been nervous but was trying not to think too much about it.
Now, my fears have been brought to the surface.
What if his parents don’t approve of me because I’m not rich?
I don’t have a legacy or reputation, no illustrious connections.
I wouldn’t even have the money to pay for the one prestigious program I got into if it wasn’t for their son paying my way.
Oh no. Will they think I’m with Hayes because of his money?
The conversation continues, shifting more toward how perfect Mckinleigh is for him and what their wedding will be like.
But I’m stuck wondering if I’ll be able to live up to his parents’ expectations.
Mckinleigh has successfully pushed me into a downward spiral, giving me yet another reason to dislike her.
A wave of frustration hits me. Who is she to put doubt in my head?
She’s just an obsessed stalker. I’m Hayes’s girlfriend.
A chorus of gasps sounds out. I look up from my notebook to see Hayes walking toward me. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt with Haymakers printed across it in muted gray and dark wash jeans that fit him too well. But it’s the mischievous grin he’s wearing that makes my heart skip.
Not wanting to chance Mckinleigh getting to him first, I jump up and meet him halfway.
“Hey—”
I cut him off by grabbing his sweatshirt and pulling him down for a kiss.
His surprise is evident only for a moment before he wraps me up in his strong arms and kisses me with an unbridled passion that sends fire through my veins.
It’s the kind of moment I’d usually want to be private, but I’ve lost the ability to care.
His lips move against mine with a hunger that says he missed me, too.
When we pull apart, we’re both breathless. Hayes looks down at me, an awestruck look on his face.
“What was that for?”
“Rumors were spreading that you broke up with me.”
He lets out a short laugh.
“Who would be stupid enough to believe that?”
A satisfied smirk plays on my lips. It might be wrong, but I hope they can hear our conversation. I tip my head in the direction of our undoubtedly rapt audience. Hayes glances over my shoulder. He sighs when he sees who’s there.
“Sorry you had to deal with her without me again.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t that bad. Besides, you’re here now.”
A grin spreads across his face.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
He gives me another kiss that makes my knees feel like Jell-O.
“Ready to go?” he whispers against my lips.
I hum, unable to form words at the moment, and we walk back to our table to get my things.
Mckinleigh and her friends watch us with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
Hayes slings my pink backpack over his shoulder once I pack it up, then holds his hand out to me.
I smile up at him and intertwine our fingers.
“I didn’t take you for the jealous type,” he comments in a joking tone as we walk away.
I shoot him a flat look.
“I wasn’t jealous, especially not of her.”
“You’re right, maybe not jealous … possessive is a better word,” he says with a smirk.
“Is that a problem?” I ask, with a touch of sass.
“Not at all, Princess.” He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses. “Not. At. All.”