“Goodnight, Natasha,” he whispers into my ear as my legs begin to shake. What is this effect he has on me?
“N—night,” I stammer.
Hayden kisses the corner of my mouth, then steps back. My body cries out at the loss. A black car stops near us, and Hayden walks over to it, turning around and giving me his signature half-smile before he opens the door and slides in. I stand there like a little psycho, plastered against my car, holding my car keys in a vice grip.
Hayden’s window rolls down. “I’m not leaving until I can see you safely inside the car, Sugar,” he says.
A brick falls down from a wall I so painstakingly erected around my heart. This man… This man has me all twisted and confused. And I’ll be honest. I don’t like it. I want my safe cocoon, where all the guys are idiots, and nothing I’d want to get myself involved with.
With shaking hands, I unlock my car and slide into the driver’s seat. Hayden finally leaves when I start the engine, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Maybe this is it?
Maybe he won’t bother me anymore? It would be safer that way because I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my guard up if he keeps doing this stuff.
My thoughts are swirling, and my hands are unsteady the whole way home. Thankfully, the roads are empty, and I’m home, pouring myself a large glass of wine before I can really think the whole night through. I need to talk to someone. Need another opinion.
At times like this, I wish I hadn't moved to a different continent. I know my sister never understood the reason why. She’d never have let me go if I told her the truth. As much as I wanted to stay with her in our own bubble, I could see the toll raising a teenager had on her while she was supposed to be living her life. I could not let her waste her best years being a mom when she wasn’t even supposed to be one. At first, I thought I’d just move in with my boyfriend at the time, but in my loved-up state, I didn’t realize until the very last moment that he and I had a very different definition of a relationship. I thought since we’d been dating for over a year that we were exclusive and in love. He thought he could have his fun with a fat chick on the side, while in a long-distance relationship with another girl he’d been dating since high school.
I only found out when I went to his house for the first time cause I couldn’t get a hold of him. Red flag number one, if a guy you’re dating for over a year never takes you home when anyone else is about, he’s probably hiding something. As it was, his mom opened the door, and when I asked her about him, she told me he was out with his girlfriend, who surprised him with an impromptu visit from Edinburgh University.
Four hours and one bottle of wine later, I was vowing never to get involved with another douchebag ever again. One year later, I moved to Texas, breaking Sasha’s heart in the process.
The thing with heartbreaks, though, is that they are so easily acquired but hard to get over. My biggest heartbreak wasn’t the douche canoe who was two-timing me. No, he just taught me not to trust men. My biggest heartbreak was my mother dying. Her death taught me not to trust anyone, and to keep my heart to myself because no matter how much you love somebody or how much they love you—they always leave.
With the glass of wine in my hand, I go to my bedroom and switch off all the lights, my mood soured with all the memories tonight has dredged up.
That brick that was on the floor near my wall lifted itself up and slotted into place again.
I’m better off alone. That way, no one can hurt me. Love, it seems, doesn’t always protect what matters most—my heart.
ChapterEight
Hayden shows up at the bakery every single night before closing. Sometimes he brings me flowers, sometimes he brings me chocolates, and one time he brought me a book he just finished and could not stop thinking about. Each night, he walks me to my car and waits for me to get in before closing my door for me.
Each night, my wall gets a bit wobblier. I fear if a big bad wolf came along and huffed and puffed, he wouldn’t have any difficulty bringing it down.
Or maybe Hayden is my big bad wolf? Although it’s hard to think of him as bad. The few times he wasn’t able to come himself, he sent his driver to make sure I got to my car safely. Who does that? A man with a gazillion dollars in his bank account does, I suppose.
The bell on my door jingles and I smile before I even look up. “Evening,” I say, putting away the last of the cupcakes in the box. I have neglected the shelter long enough. Hayden has had me so off balance I have had to do a few runs in the morning. But tonight, I’m determined to make an appearance.
“Your smile lights up the whole town.” He never says hello in the usual way. It’s always something that’s bound to make me blush.
“Right-o. You ready?”
He chuckles. “For you? Always.”
Honestly, you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. It’s best if we both get outside because if we keep doing this indoors, I’ll have a puddle to mop up from between my legs. I grab the box and lift my head, my eyes finally landing on him. It’s a game I play with myself. How long can I keep myself from looking at him? I never go longer than a minute. It’s like the man demands my attention. Or maybe it’s me? I’m a glutton for punishment, and the more Hayden is around, the more I want him.
He’s wearing a knit sweater, dark denim jeans today, and a pair of Vans on his feet. It’s a shock seeing him in anything but a suit, and I fucking love it. It’s like the Hayden I’ve come to know, finally aligning with what he’s wearing. It’s this relaxed, easy-going guy who’s been through so much in life.
“Lovely,” I mutter and head outside, locking the bakery behind me.
“Did you park somewhere else today?” Hayden asks as we cross the street and head in a different direction.
“Something like that.” I could tell him, prepare him for what he’s about to see. But a part of me wants to see how he behaves. The thing is, in my heart, I have no doubt he’ll be nothing short of spectacular. But my mind is eager for him to trip up. Something I could latch onto. Something that would make it easy for me to remove myself from the situation.
I knock on the building door. It’s nondescript. If you didn’t know what’s there, you could easily walk by and not think twice about it.