Chapter 9
He’s in a sleek leather jacket, leaning against the bar top. My body goes numb. God, he’s so tall. And his fingers are so long, and he’s—
He’s not alone. A gorgeous girl with a sleek ponytail and lotus leaves tattooed on her bare shoulders presses into his side, gazing up at him, her shiny lips parted. Hayden’s smirking down at her.
Why does it feel like someone’s just punched my solar plexus?
“What can I get you, sweetheart?”
Oh, thank god the bartender’s back. I could really use a drink.
“Get me the drink with the most alcohol,” I demand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see Hayden’s head twitch in my direction. But when I chance a look his way, he’s making eyes at stupid, perfect Lotus Leaves.
The bartender plops down an icy glass of Coke-colored liquid in front of me. There’s a slice of lemon on the rim.
“Long Island iced tea,” he says.
“Perfect,” I say, grabbing the drink. “I love sweet tea.” I suck a huge gulp from the straw. It’s disgustingly strong, and it takes everything in me not to spit it back out.
I don’t mean to, but I look Hayden’s way.
I’m shocked to find that he’s already looking at me with the strangest expression on his face.
Of course, as soon as my eyes find his, he turns back to his beautiful date.
She leans up to whisper something in his ear, and he laughs, a deep, velvety rumble that finds me across the bar.
I don’t care how disgusting this drink is.
I forgo the straw and take a long, deep gulp of my Long Island iced tea.
By the time I’m slamming the glass back down on the bar, my head feels bubbly.
The lights are fuzzy and pink, and when I let out a breath, it feels like some of the painful clenching in my chest leaves too.
I know it’s a bad idea, but I glance Hayden’s way.
He’s gone. So is Lotus Leaves. I swallow hard. There’s only one reason for two hot people to sneak away together. They’re off somewhere putting their hands on each other, their mouths on each other. Not that I care.
I reach for my drink again, but I’ve set it too close to the edge of the bar, and I accidentally knock it to the floor. The glass shatters, Long Island iced tea splattering in a big, sharp puddle.
“Oh, come on,” I groan, sliding to the ground on my knees. Delia’s dress is too short for this operation, but I don’t care. No one’s looking at me anyway. I reach for the biggest piece of broken glass first.
Strong fingers clasp my wrist, stopping me. I look up to find Hayden’s eyes blazing a fiery blue. It sends a wave of heat up my bare arms and neck, down through my stomach and hips. His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second before his eyes narrow, snapping up to mine.
“How much have you had?” he demands.
“Not enough,” I snap. “Why do you even care? Don’t you have Lotus Leaves to suck?”
The furrow between his dark brows deepens. “Lotus leaves? What are you—”
“Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to clean my mess up, thank you.” I try and shake his grip off my arm. It doesn’t budge. Not even a little.
Hayden raises a brow at me. “You done?”
“No.” I try shaking him off again, but Hayden’s already moving.
“Too bad.” He stands us both up in a graceful sweep.
I blink up at him. “My god, you’re tall,” I mutter. “Have you always been this tall?” Something passes over Hayden’s face, his mouth twitching.
“Yeah,” he says in a low voice. “Yeah, I have.”
In that impossible way of his, he gently and swiftly maneuvers me so I’m sitting on a high-top chair. He leans over me, his dark hair sweeping over his brow. This close, in the dim red lighting, his eyes shift to violet. “Don’t move. I’m going to clean this up.”
“Were you watching me?” I whisper. “You acted like you didn’t even know I was here. And then all of a sudden, bam. Here you are.”
Hayden’s eyes roam my face. That alone is enough to get my entire body to erupt in goosebumps.
“Let me walk you home,” he murmurs. The way Hayden says it doesn’t sound like a request. He puts one arm on the bar and the other on the back of the chair, caging me in.
I can barely breathe. It’s terrifying how this boy could do anything to me right this very moment, and I would let him. God, I would beg for it.
“Okay,” I whisper, and he’s immediately gone from my wake, heading across the bar to grab a rag, leaving me swaying and tingly. When he returns, he sets a full glass of water down in front of me.
“Drink,” he snaps before dropping to the ground with the dirty rag. I blink down at the back of his head.
“You,” I say, “can be very not nice.” Hayden pauses in the middle of scooping up a small pile of glass shards. He glances up at me, and for a very brief moment, there’s that strange expression again. He sits back on his knees and sweeps out a hand.
“Drink, please.” He cocks his head a tiny bit. “Better?”
“It’s a start,” I say, smiling into the water.
By the time he’s cleaned up the shattered glass and my spilled Long Island, I’ve finished half my water and am feeling a touch more in control of myself and steadier on my feet, even in the heels.
I shoot Delia and the others a text saying I’m walking home with someone from class, and Hayden walks me out.
The night air is damp, cold, cleansing. I fill my lungs with it, the cool, crisp fall smell. It clears my head, which is exactly what I need. I eye him as we walk side by side, his hands in his jacket pockets, his face tilted up at the fog-smothered moon.
“Thank you very much for helping me clean up the glass,” I say.
“So polite.” Amusement warms the edge of his voice. “You’re welcome.”
“And I don’t know if I ever really thanked you for your help with that”—I consider my word choice, wondering if I can rile him up—“pushy boy at the club.”
“Pushy?” Hayden sounds murderous. He looks murderous.
“I can’t believe you’d say— I should have—” He breaks off in a sort of snarl, and it really shouldn’t be hot.
He clenches his teeth. “Thank me by gaining even an inkling of a survival instinct. Okay?” I ignore the barb, hoping I’ve got him off-kilter enough now.
“But most of all,” I continue over his outburst, “thank you for saving my life from that truck last year. I would be dead if it weren’t for you.”
Hayden stops walking. His perfect face goes blank. He doesn’t look at me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he finally says as he starts walking again. Something snaps inside me.
“No,” I say. I block his path and jut my chin up at him.
“No, you don’t get to do this to me. Everyone else in my life already has, but not you.
” Hayden meets my eyes, but his face stays smooth and expressionless.
“Irvine, California. About a year ago. I was walking on a bridge and a truck lost control. I was seconds from being crushed. You were there. You saved me.”
“Sounds like a hero.” He shoves his hands back into his pockets and keeps walking. “Still wasn’t me.”
My heartbeat goes wild. He’s really going to keep pretending.
“You coming?” Hayden calls over his shoulder.
I bite back a dozen things I could say and fall in beside him instead. Fine. If he’s not giving me that answer, I’ll take another one.
“Who was that girl? The one with the ponytail and lotus tattoos?” I ask.
Hayden’s gaze flashes with understanding. “That’s Lotus Leaves? She’s a classmate.”
“Awfully handsy for a classmate.”
“I’m not her type. Trust me.” He cocks his head and lifts a corner of his mouth. “I don’t have the right…parts.”
“Oh.” I feel a hot flush sweep from my cheeks to my neck and down to my chest. Now I’m thinking about Hayden’s parts, and my brain is no longer working.
“She wanted advice on how to ask out a cute barista she’s crushing on,” Hayden continues, entirely too smug. “I was giving her my best tips.”
I have never felt more whiplash in my life than I have with this infuriating boy striding behind me. I feel desperate to regain my footing.
“Poor Lotus Leaves,” I manage. “She stands no chance if she’s taking dating tips from you, Mr. Not Nice.”
Hayden hums, overtaking me and turning around so he’s walking backward, facing his unbearable smirk at me.
“You’d be surprised,” he says.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m serious.” The moon peeks from behind a cloud, making the purple flecks in Hayden’s eyes dance. “I’ve managed to make the most impossibly perfect women fall in love with me.”
“Gross,” I mumble, feeling the swell of envy in my belly.
“You don’t believe me?” Hayden stops walking abruptly, blocking my path. “I’ll show you.” Hayden’s smirk softens. “Give me your hand.”
I know I shouldn’t. Because I’m already so far gone. He’s not even touching me yet, and I’m getting that feeling again, that hot, dangerous one I got in the bar, where I’d do anything Hayden asked me to do.
So of course I give him my hand. Hayden’s eyes darken. He brushes the tips of his fingers down the ticklish inside of my palm, down to the pads of my fingers in the lightest, most delicious touch. It sends a shiver down my body.
“See?” His voice is rough now. He licks his lips. “I can be nice.”
I want to tell him that there’s nothing nice about this. But my tongue’s not working. And anyway, I don’t want him to stop.
Hayden turns my hand palm side up. His eyes don’t leave mine as he brings his lips agonizingly close to the inside of my wrist. If he were to breathe, even just a little, his plush bottom lip would graze the throb of my pulse. For a moment, we stay suspended in that moment, unblinking.
I want his mouth on my skin so badly.
And for a moment there’s a flash of hunger in his eyes, and I think maybe, impossibly, he might want the same.
Finally, his lips move.
“Good night, Rose,” he whispers, a hair’s width from my wrist.
When he pulls back and drops my hand, I realize what he’s said to me.
“Good night?” My voice sounds raspy. “You’re leaving?”
“You’re home.” He gestures over my shoulder. I turn around, and sure enough, there’s Coupland Hall, a proud and silent silhouette in the fog. I had no idea we were already here. How did we…?
I turn back toward Hayden, and he’s already walking away, his back to me.
“I…” I begin, but what’s the use? I squeeze my eyes shut, take a deep breath. But when I open my eyes, Hayden’s already gone, and I’m all alone.
And I realize that he managed to distract me long enough that I didn’t ask him any more questions about the night he saved my life.