Текст книги "Clipped Wings"

Автор книги: Helena Hunting

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

30

TENLEY

In the days that followed, Hayden was hyperattentive. He asked permission before he so much as kissed me, as though I might change my mind and decide I no longer wanted his affection.

On Saturday night Hayden and I were cuddled on the couch. TK was wrapped around the back of his neck like a stole. Hayden was pretending to watch TV while I painted my fingernails sparkly gold.

Activity in the hallway drew Hayden’s attention away from the news.

“Is that Chris?” he asked, stupefied.

“Sarah finally agreed to go on a date with him.”

A feminine giggle came from the hall, followed by the muffled sound of a door opening and closing. It must have gone well. I was sure to get details tomorrow.

“For real?”

“Uh-huh. I think he was taking her out for drinks.” I widened my eyes in mock conspiracy. “Maybe next time they’ll try food.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.” Hayden fiddled with his viper bites. “We should do that again. I liked taking you to the museum.”

“That would be nice.”

“I don’t think I have any clients tomorrow night. Maybe I could take you out for dinner?” He lifted TK from his shoulders; her nails clung to his shirt. She mewed when he disengaged them and set her on the arm of the couch.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

He blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“I’d love to.” Butterflies flitted around in my stomach. While we’d fooled around a little since we talked, it hadn’t gone very far. Hayden was extra reserved these days. Maybe the date would change that.

“Cool.”

“You know,” I said, “if you show me a good time, I might just make out with you in your car afterward.”

His eyes lit up. Covering my body with his, he kissed a path from my sternum to my mouth. “I’ll show you a good time, all right.”

* * *

Hayden left my place midafternoon on Sunday and returned two hours later. Instead of letting himself in, he knocked. I open the door to find him rocking on his heels with his hands behind his back. His gaze moved from my face down to my toes. He reversed the circuit and slowly brought his eyes back to mine.

“You look fucking hot,” he blurted, then grimaced. “Sorry. I got you these.” He produced a bouquet of flowers and thrust them at me. His nervousness was cute.

I put my nose to the delicate blossoms. “Let me put these in water before we go.”

I retrieved a vase, and TK sniffed at the flowers. She batted at them while I set to arranging them. Hayden plucked a sprig of baby’s breath from the bouquet and twirled it over her head to keep her entertained.

“These are lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them.” With a secret smile Hayden fingered the fragile white petal of a flower.

I planted a kiss on his cheek. “I like this, too.” I circled the buttons on his dark gray shirt. He had on black pants and a black jacket. He looked like danger personified even though his only signs of rebellion were his piercings and his hair.

“Me taking you out or my shirt?” He watched as I traced the circumference of each button from his chest down.

“Both.”

“It’s just a dress shirt.”

“But I know what’s under it.”

When I reached the waist of his pants, Hayden grabbed my wrist to prevent me from going any lower. “Keep it up and you’re going to ruin my plans.”

“Sorry.” I gave him a swift kiss on the lips. “I’ll be a good girl and keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t know if you have to take it that far . . .”

I wriggled out of his embrace and bolted for the door. I hightailed it down the stairs to his car, which was standing with the four-ways flashing in the No Parking zone, and jerked on the door handle. Of course it was locked.

“There’s nowhere to run,” he said, low and menacing, as he advanced on me.

I spun around and squealed as he trapped me against the side of the car, barricading me in. And I thought I would be safe once we were outside.

He pinned me with his hips and I felt him, through the silky fabric of my dress and the heavy layer of my wool coat. I’d missed the playful side of him; he’d been so cautious with me lately.

“I planned to wait until after dinner for this, but right now the hood of my car looks pretty appealing,” he growled against my throat.

“It’s not very private,” I argued, shifting my hips, nervous excitement making my stomach clench.

“Like I give a fuck.” One of his hands slid down the outside of my thigh, and he pulled me closer.

A throat cleared to our right. Hayden released me and turned his head. I stared at his jacket, red flooding my cheeks.

“Good afternoon, Officer,” he said smoothly. The car chirped and Hayden took a step back, opening the passenger door as he did so.

“Mr. Stryker.”

At the sound of Officer Cross’s voice I glanced over. He gave me a tight smile. “Are you all right, Miss Page?”

“Hi, Officer Cross,” I replied, mortified. “I’m fine.”

“It’s Collin, sweetheart.” He turned his attention back to Hayden. “This is a No Parking zone.”

“We were just on our way out.”

Hayden pressed his fingertips against the base of my spine, like he wanted me to get in the car. I wasn’t capable of movement, though; I was too caught up in the memory of Hayden’s last altercation with Officer Cross.

“That’s a sixty-dollar fine.” Officer Cross’s hand rested on the butt of his gun.

“You can write me a ticket if you want.” Hayden placed the keys in my palm, closing my hand around them. “Why don’t you start the car, kitten? It’s cold, and you’re shivering.”

Unable to look at Officer Cross, I dropped into the passenger seat. Hayden closed the door with a quiet click. I leaned over and slid the key into the ignition, turning the engine over. It came to life with a guttural rumble. Music blared through the speakers and I fumbled to turn it down. Hayden’s hand rested on the hood of the car, his fingers tapping restlessly.

I couldn’t hear what either man was saying, but Officer Cross kept glancing through the windshield at me. After what seemed like forever, he ripped a piece of paper from his pad and Hayden snatched it from him, rounding the front of the car, mouth pressed in a thin line.

Officer Cross rapped on my window. I rolled it down. “You’re better than that, Miss Page. Have a little self-respect,” he said, his disapproval blatant.

I blanched, stunned by his audacity. Hayden wrenched open his door and folded into the driver’s seat.

Officer Cross plastered on a fake smile. “You kids have a nice afternoon. Drive safe.”

Hayden tossed the ticket on the dash and yanked his seat belt across his chest. He threw the car into gear as Officer Cross stepped away. I hastily fastened my own seat belt, grabbing the door handle as he screeched around the corner. He made three more turns and pulled over, slamming the car into park. He was out of his seat and over me before I could blink, eyes fiery with anger and desperation.

“Mine.” One hand fisted in my hair and the other slipped under my dress. “Mine, mine, mine,” he snarled, kissing me fiercely.

For a heartbeat I remained frozen, overwhelmed by his aggression. And then I melted into the onslaught, legs opening to accommodate his hand, lips parting to accept his tongue.

He sat back heavily in his seat, chest heaving as he gripped the steering wheel. “Fuck. Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“It was certainly unexpected. Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He ran a hand viciously through his hair and tugged. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“We don’t have to go out. We can go back to my apartment,” I said. I didn’t know what to do when he was this upset, and the only other time I’d seen him in this state was after the last time he’d seen Officer Cross. Obviously he was the common denominator.

Hayden shook his head. “No. I want to take you out and do something normal.”

I put my hand on his forearm. “It’s okay if you need a minute.”

He nodded and took another deep breath before saying, “Why am I like this with you? Why am I such a territorial prick?”

“You’re not a prick.”

“I am. I don’t own you. Who says that kind of shit to their girlfriend?”

My stomach did a little flip. I pried his fingers from the steering wheel and brought his knuckles to my lips, kissing them tenderly. “You were upset. You associate Officer Cross with painful memories, and he antagonized you. It’s understandable you would be defensive and feel possessive.”

“What did he say to you?”

“That I should wear my seat belt.” I bit his knuckle to distract him from my lie.

Hayden looked skeptical.

“Let’s not let him ruin the rest of our day,” I pleaded. “Didn’t you have somewhere you wanted to take me?”

He hesitated before flashing a salacious grin. “That’s right, I promised you a good time in exchange for a make-out session in my car.”

“It’s too bad you don’t have a garage—the hood sounded like it might be fun.”

Hayden shifted the car into gear. “That could be arranged.”

31

HAYDEN

I was still trying to calm the hell down. The parking ticket I could deal with. Cross’s implication that I was going to ruin Tenley, not so much.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tenley asked, pulling me out of the dark spiral of thoughts.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

I received a few stunned looks as we were ushered through the restaurant to a private table in the back, nice and close to the wood-burning fireplace. I’d only been here once, to celebrate Nate’s fortieth birthday last year. They had a stellar menu.

Eating a meal with Tenley in a public place was strange. I constantly had to remind myself that I couldn’t touch her whenever I felt like it, at least not in the locations I gravitated toward. My self-control was limited when it came to her, particularly since the last time we’d had sex was over a week ago. I was trying to prove she was more than just a warm place to put my dick. But she looked hot and I was horny, so I was having difficulty behaving. She must have pinched my arm twenty times. I wasn’t doing anything particularly inappropriate; I just had my hand on her knee. It wasn’t my fault her pussy was like a magnet and my fingers kept inching north.

I decided to talk about something nonsexual. “I’ve been thinking about your tattoo.”

“Oh?” she paused, her fork halfway to her mouth.

“How would you feel about some modifications to the color scheme? I have some revised versions of the design we could look over tomorrow. If you like one of them, I could start filling in the color later in the week.”

Her eyes lit up. “You think it’s healed well enough?”

I’d been stalled out on the shading for a variety of reasons, many of which had nothing to do with the readiness of the tattoo. “Yeah. It looks good. We’ll start with a shorter session, maybe a couple hours?”

“I can handle longer.”

“I know you can, kitten. I’d feel better if we worked up to that, though. Okay? Shading is more painful than the outline. You’ll be uncomfortable.”

Tenley would sit through a four-hour session no problem, but that amount of shading would feel like absolute shit for days afterward.

“I can deal with the discomfort.” She looked up at me with her Disney eyes, all wide and pleading, lower lip jutting out in a sexy little pout.

“I know that, too. But an extensive session would put you out of commission.” My hand drifted higher on her thigh, my meaning clear.

“Oh,” she breathed. “We wouldn’t want that.”

* * *

After dinner I took her to see a movie. It might have been clichéd, but I wanted to take her on a regular date. In the short time we were apart, I had the opportunity to look critically at what I was doing with her. It was about more than the sex and the tattoo. Being with Tenley felt good; comfortable. I’d settled right into her apartment and her life without considering the important aspect of actually dating her, because I had no experience with that concept.

Now that I wasn’t interested in the bar scene, I’d become a bit of a homebody, and it appeared she was, too. I liked hanging out with her and didn’t feel much of a desire to share that time with anyone else, even if it was indirectly. But I learned something in those blank days without her. If I had any hope of making this relationship work, I needed to shelve the protective, sometimes archaic impulses and show her I could be a boyfriend she’d want to keep around. I hadn’t started the evening out well with the whole Cross business, but I planned to make up for it by keeping up the normal a little longer.

Tenley liked action flicks, thank Christ. I didn’t think I could handle one of those romantic comedy gong shows. She got all snuggly during the movie, and her hands started to wander, which made focusing on the screen almost impossible. By the end, I had the worst case of blue balls known to man.

I utilized every shortcut available. The ride should have helped cool me off, but an entire day of having to behave and a week of no sex deteriorated my restraint. Not to mention the promise of a make-out session in my car if I showed her a good time on our date. Which I had. Once we were parked in the underground lot of my building, I unbuckled my seat belt and reached across to release Tenley’s.

She leaned in to kiss me, and her hand came to rest on my knee. “Thanks for taking me out. I had a really good time.”

“Yeah?” I asked, all pleased with myself, like I’d gotten an A on an assignment.

She nodded and her hand slid up my thigh. I’d been looking forward to the car make-out session since before I picked her up today. Something about the confined space and the potential for getting caught jacked me up.

Her lips parted and I took the invitation, sliding my tongue against hers. Tenley shifted, angling herself closer. It was awkward as hell, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her hand continued moving until her fingertips grazed my cock. The barrier of my pants muted the sensation, but it still felt good.

She moaned into my mouth, clearly as affected as me. Pushing her back, I searched blindly for the lever to recline her seat. It went down with a jolt. Stunned by the sudden movement, she took stock of her options and crawled onto the narrow bench in the back. I followed her, hitting my head on the roof as I fumbled to right her seat so I had room for my legs. It was a little more private with the blacked-out windows and the headrests to shield us. I planted a knee between her legs as she spread them. When I slipped a finger beneath her panties, I met slick, hot skin.

Tenley made a soft noise, her fingers moving to my fly. She pulled down the zipper and her hand went into my boxers. I groaned as she smoothed her thumb over the head. Tenley’s grip tightened when I pushed two fingers inside her. She shuddered as I increased the pace, pumping harshly, impatient for her release so I could take her home and get inside her. She didn’t last long, as worked up as she was. After she came, she sagged against the seat, breathing hard. It took her a minute to regain control of her limbs, and when she did, her hand started to move with long, slow strokes.

“Lean back.” She pushed until I was sprawled out on the bench, one foot up on the center console, the other stretched out on the seat, my foot against the door. She kissed me as she continued to move her hand up and down my shaft, thumb circling the steel ball at the head.

I gritted my teeth, aware if she continued I was going to blow my load, potentially all over the interior of my car. It was leather, but still. “Kitten, you need to stop, I’m—”

One second Tenley’s lips were on mine, the next they were gone. Her hair brushed over my cock, the sensation making me jerk in her hand. And then her hot, wet mouth engulfed the head, her tongue swirling around and her lips sliding down.

“Jesus fuck.” I threaded my fingers through her hair. My original plan was to pull her off, but then she started sucking. She angled her head to accommodate the piercing, going slow until she found a smooth rhythm. I involuntarily guided her movements as she sank down and then came back up, over and over. I should have felt some guilt for letting her do this, especially in my car, where it had to be uncomfortable, crammed into the backseat as we were. But the less civilized side of me relished the feel of her mouth, and I wondered why I’d been so intent on keeping her from going down on me, when it felt so fucking good.

My longevity was pitiful. “Tenley, I’m going to come,” I warned, tugging on her hair.

She moaned around my dick and sucked harder, taking more of me into her mouth until I felt the head hit the back of her throat.

“Holy shit,” I groaned, grabbing the seat so I didn’t succumb to the urge to hold on to her hair and push her down. I came violently, my head smacking off the window.

When I was sucked dry, Tenley released my dick and gave the tip a lick. I made a weak sound of protest because it was so damn sensitive. She sat back on her heels, swollen lips turned up in a satisfied grin. I rolled my head in her direction, so relaxed I could barely move.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I muttered.

“But aren’t you glad I did?”

“Mm.” I motioned for her to come closer and pulled her in for a kiss. “Want to come up to my place? When I recover, I can show you how glad I am.”

Tenley sat back on her heels, her expression one of shock. “You’re inviting me over?”

I frowned. “We can go back to your place if you want—”

“No, no! It’s just . . . you’ve never asked me over before.” Her eyes dropped and she twisted her hands in her lap.

She was right. I hadn’t. Not once. I’d made myself at home in her space, reorganized everything from her cupboards to her linen closet to suit my needs. If I wasn’t buying her groceries outright, we were shopping for them together. Aside from the past week, I hadn’t slept in my own bed more than a handful of times since we’d started this thing. So why hadn’t I invited her to my place?

It wasn’t because I didn’t like having people over. Chris, Jamie, and Lisa used to come to my place all the time before Tenley happened. Granted, they were my closest friends and they knew what I was like, so they didn’t razz me too much about my anal retentivity. Nate would probably tell me it was an attempt to keep some distance. Self-protection or some bullshit psycho-babble. Except this time it seemed like it might be true, which was a fucking joke. The past few days in my condo had sucked ass because I hadn’t been with her.

I wanted her in my space. I wanted her in my bed, the smell of her shampoo on my pillows, and the scent of her lotion clinging to my sheets.

I picked up her hand and brought it to my lips. “Well, that needs to change.”

32

TENLEY

The windows were foggy and the car smelled like sex, even though we hadn’t technically had any. I hoped that would change once we got to his place.

He tucked himself away and zipped his fly. Shifting around, he pressed his face against the back of the passenger seat and fumbled with the release lever. It gave way and the seat folded forward, taking Hayden with it. He grinned dopily as he opened the door and practically fell out.

“Are you okay?” I asked, climbing after him.

He hopped to his feet and brushed off his pants. “I’m good.”

I’d never seen Hayden embarrassed before, or exhibiting any clumsiness. It was reassuring to know I affected him in such a way, especially since his experience far outweighed mine. Score one for putting into practice information gleaned from Cosmopolitan magazine.

We took the stairs to the second floor and stopped in front of unit 222. Hayden unlocked the door.

“Uh, can you wait here a second? I just want to make sure it’s not a mess.” His eyes shifted around like he was nervous.

He started down the hall, stopped abruptly, and turned with a shake of his head. He pulled me inside, twisted the dead bolt, and slid the chain lock into place. Unlacing his shoes, he took them off, opened the closet, and placed them neatly inside before closing the door again.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed my cheek and left me there before disappearing to the right when he reached the end of the hall.

I shrugged out of my jacket and opened the closet door. Inside were a number of coats for various types of weather, the fall and winter ones most accessible. A rack of shoes lined the floor, the heels perfectly aligned. The upper shelving contained boxes, arranged with the same symmetry. Not a thing out of place, nothing jammed in the back. I’d never seen a closet so organized.

I hung up my coat and removed my shoes, putting them beside Hayden’s before I closed the door. He returned a few seconds later.

“All clear.” He rubbed his palms on his pants and took my hand.

The hall was painted a soft gray, a large antique mirror the only thing breaking up the color. The floors were dark hardwood, gleaming under the warm light thrown off by the ornate chandelier hanging above. I followed him around the corner and stopped short at the sight of the open concept living space. The muted gray color scheme continued throughout.

To the right was a very sparse, minimalist kitchen. The backsplash was white subway tile, the countertop dark gray granite. A bowl of fruit on the island and a soap dispenser at the sink were the only items to break up the continuity. The stainless steel appliances showed no trace of fingerprints. To the left was a dark wood dining table that would easily accommodate six guests. In the center a silver square planter with a single blooming orchid broke the spell of emptiness.

A black leather couch with hard angles and a set of matching chairs defined the living room. A solid wood coffee table sat atop a bloodred area rug. On the opposite wall a huge flat-screen TV dominated the space, and on either side were dark wood shelving units. Each shelf alternated between rows of books, perfectly arranged from smallest to largest, and decorative knickknacks or photos. The images were too far away for me to make out the faces. I recognized a few items Hayden had chosen from my time with him in the basement of Serendipity. It seemed so long ago, but it had only been weeks. Back then I never entertained the notion that I would be here, in his home.

Beyond the living area was what looked to be a drafting table, like the ones architects use. The space was delineated with a box shelf, which housed more books and several red fabric bins, the contents hidden from view. The cool colors and the uniformity were both calming and masculine.

The condo wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I’d envisioned some kind of anarchist retreat, including a wall of angry graffiti. Instead it felt like I walked into the pages of a modern magazine.

Spanning the wall behind the couch, perfectly spaced out, were three framed works of art. The two on either end clearly belonged to Chris and Jamie, but the one in the middle was Hayden’s creation. Detailed and vibrant, the art almost looked like a photograph. It was a perfect replica of my tattoo on my body. The rendering held me in an incredibly flattering light.

“I, uh . . .” Hayden cleared his throat. “I just put that up the other day.”

“You don’t see enough of me so you thought you’d hang me on your wall, too?”

Hayden stood at the edge of the room, hands shoved in his pockets. “Something like that.”

“It’s beautiful.” His mood was difficult to track. Inviting me into his space was like giving me a look inside his head. Hayden kept such tight control over everything in his life: his work, his home, his emotions. I seemed to be the exception to that rule.

“That’s because it’s you.” His smile was shy. “Can I get you something to drink? I have beer, red wine, scotch. I think I might have stuff to make a girlie drink if you want.”

“Wine would be nice.” I moved away from the drawing and followed him into the kitchen. “Do you have a housekeeper or something?”

He eyed me like the notion was absurd. “I’m good at keeping things organized. I don’t need someone else to do that for me.”

“Are you taking a shot at my housekeeping skills?”

“I can’t take a shot at something you don’t have.”

Insulted by the insinuation that I wasn’t tidy enough, I circled his kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers while he poured drinks.

“What are you looking for?”

“Where’s your junk drawer?”

“My what?” He swirled his scotch, amused.

It was a strange contradiction, seeing this man, so unnervingly beautiful, sipping scotch in the most immaculate kitchen I’d ever stepped foot in.

“Your junk drawer. You know, the place where you put all the stuff you don’t know what to do with.” When he just stared at me, I provided a few examples. “Elastic bands, twist ties, masking tape, spare pens, those kinds of things.”

“Open the drawer to your left.”

I was sorely disappointed by what I found. An organizer had been dropped into it, each compartment labeled according to the items it housed. In my world, most people tossed those random items into a catch-all drawer. At least that was what I grew up with. Even Connor, whose family had employed a live-in housekeeper, had a junk drawer.

“This is too organized. It doesn’t qualify.”

“I like organized. Clutter stresses me out.”

“I never would have guessed,” I replied.

My place was perpetually lived in. He was always tidying up after me. Now I understood his compulsion. In comparison to his, my apartment looked like a bomb had gone off in it.

“Are you done snooping?”

“For now. Did you want to show me where you sleep?”

“Sure.”

At the end of the hall, he opened a door and hit the light switch. Hayden’s bedroom retained the same masculine minimalist bent as the rest of his place. A king-sized bed was set against a midnight blue wall, the heavy dark wood frame complemented by a dresser and a nightstand in the same modern style. The slate gray duvet was turned down, navy sheets pulled tight, matching pillows propped against the headboard. There were signs of life in here; books stacked neatly on the nightstand, a digital clock, and a lamp with a dark shade.

There was more art on the walls, all of which reflected abject sensuality. A trio of photographs depicted various female body parts—the curvy silhouette of a woman’s torso, the line of her neck, the swell of a hip draped in red satin.

“Lisa took those,” Hayden said, his fingers drifting down my spine.

“Is it someone you know?”

“No. Just a model from one of her photography classes.”

“Oh.” Relief flooded through me. I didn’t want Hayden staring at photographs of a woman he’d once been with as he was drifting off to sleep, or doing anything else in that bed.

“No one’s ever been in here before.”

“Did you just move in recently?” The room defied the typical bachelor pad; no piles of clothes draped over chairs or discarded on the floor.

“I’ve lived here since we opened Inked Armor.”

It took a few seconds for the message to sink in. “You’ve never brought a woman home?”

“Well yeah, but never in here. Not in my room or my bed. Except for you. I want you in here. With me. Jesus. I sound like a douche.” He gulped down the rest of his scotch. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

“Hey.” I tugged on his wrist, pulling him farther into the room, toward that massive bed. He came willingly. My wineglass found a home on the nightstand. I stepped away, turning to face him.

“Only me?”

“Yes.”

Territorial pride gave me courage. “Why?” I asked and lowered the hidden zipper on my dress. It loosened and fell away, pooling at my feet. Hayden’s eyes stayed on me as the rest of my clothing dropped to the floor.

“Because I—” He looked so vulnerable. “I want to– Being with you is different.”

I sat on the edge of the mattress, tucked my knees under me, and crooked a finger. His empty glass kissed mine, the muted clink the only sound other than our breathing. When he was right in front of me, I started to undress him.

“It’s the same for me,” I admitted, pushing his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. I unbuckled his belt, popped the button on his pants, and pushed them over his hips. “I’ve never had this kind of connection with anyone but you.” I lifted my eyes. “It scares me that I feel this way. The thought of losing you—” The prospect was too disconcerting, especially considering how close we’d been to that potential reality so recently.

He cupped my face in his hands and dipped his head down to kiss me. “I don’t want to be without you again,” he murmured.

I moved back as Hayden climbed up on the bed and prowled over me. When my head hit the pillows, I parted my legs and he settled between them.

“I should have brought you here sooner,” he said against my mouth.

“I’m here now.” I wrapped myself around him, drawing him close.

Everything was slow, careful. It was such a relief when he finally eased inside me. He moved over me with that same unhurried passion, like the end was something he was trying to stay away from, not get to.

“I can’t get close enough,” he whispered, stealing my breath when he kissed me.

My hands moved down, resting on the dip in his spine. I lifted my hips, urging him deeper. His eyes closed briefly, his smile wry. When they opened, the way he looked at me made my heart ache. His emotions bared in that moment as his fingers skimmed my throat down to my collarbone and his palm stopped over my heart. “I want to be in here.” There was such quiet yearning in his eyes as he gazed down at me.

I touched his perfect face, wishing I could give him more of me. “You already are.”

When I came, it felt like I was breaking apart and being put back together at the same time.

It was a long time before either one of us moved. Hayden blanketed my body, his weight deliciously heavy. His head rested on my chest, his colorful arm cutting a line across the pale, unmarked skin on my stomach.

Eventually I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was getting late. “TK’s been home alone all afternoon.”

He threw one leg over mine. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“She hasn’t been fed.” I traced the outline of the fish swimming up his biceps.

“What if we brought her back here? Then you could both stay the night.”

“Really? You’d be okay with TK at your place?” I asked, surprised he would even suggest it.

“Yeah, of course.”

I tried to wiggle out from under him, but he wouldn’t budge. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back into bed.”

He released me and I sat up. I had no desire to put my dress back on, so I crossed over to his closet to find a shirt. Like the rest of his condo, it was ridiculously tidy. All the hangers hung in the same direction, the clothing separated by function and season. The hem of the long-sleeved shirt I picked fell below my butt. With my opaque tights and knee-length jacket, it would suffice until we returned. By the time I came out of his closet, Hayden was already dressed and ready to go.