by Daws, Amy
“I’ve told her more than I’ve told most, Leslie,” I admit in hushed tones.
She sits up and whispers right in my ear, “That must mean she’s worth it.”
Her words hit me just as the music shifts to a Beyoncé track. Leslie lets out a mighty cheer and Frank’s head pops up out of nowhere. His eyes lock on hers and they sprint toward each other, connecting in an epic hug of jumping and squealing. They make a mad dash for the dance floor, grabbing people along as they go.
Suddenly, Julie sidles up to me. “Will you fucking dance with me, Hayden?” she purrs. “I’ve had a bastardly couple of weeks and I feel like a bloody loser.”
I turn my surprised expression to her and see Ethan pulling Vi up out of the corner of my eye. They head toward the dance floor, so I quickly stand, grabbing Julie’s small hand as I go. I drag her through the throngs of wasted Londoners grinding on each other. She hoots with excitement as we pass by Leslie, Frank, Theo, Finley, and Brody. I position us in a place where I can keep my eyes on Ethan and Vi, but not so close that I look like a tosser from To Catch a Predator.
Julie’s hands grip my biceps and she sings along to the music as we begin moving. “You’re not an ugly bloke, Hayden!” she yells above the roaring beat.
“Thanks?” I reply, frowning down at her.
“I’ve been in a bit of a bubble for the last couple of years. Mitch took a walk and I feel like my whole world looks different now. Know what I mean? Like, I’ve always been in a relationship. I jumped from one to the next, to the next. I considered getting a cat to keep myself occupied, thinking maybe a new companion might stop me from jumping straight into another relationship. But then I was terrified that might turn me into a permanent crazy cat lady. So I thought that maybe if I shag a new bloke, I’ll feel better!”
“I guess that could help,” I murmur halfheartedly listening while mulling over what Leslie said earlier. How can one sentence uttered by a drunken woman throw me so much?
“I think you’d do me properly, don’t you?”
“Excuse me?” I look down, my brow furrowed at what I think Julie’s just suggested.
She squeezes my biceps appreciatively. “No strings attached. Just a good physical effort. What do you say?”
“Uh, Julie,” I begin, trying to find a way to let her down. But before I can finish my sentence, she yanks me down by my collar and connects our lips in a painfully awkward kiss. Her tongue forces its way through my teeth and the scent of alcohol blazes into my senses. It feels wrong. It feels like cheating in more ways than one.
I quickly break her grip on my collar and detach my face from hers. “I’m sorry, Julie, but that’s really not a great idea,” I say, doing my best to be kind.
“Why ever not?” She actually has the nerve to haul me down for another snog.
“Julie, I’m not in a place to be in a relationship right now. Really. I just…I’m focusing on my own life before I even consider diving in with anybody.”
“Well, bugger,” she whines, releasing me and placing her hands on the back of her neck. “I just need a proper servicing for bloody sake! Whose balls do I have to suck to get a proper dicking?”
My eyes widen in disbelief, and I glance around nervously at the people gawking at us. Vi’s eyes draw me to her, and the hurt on her face is crushing. Ethan attempts to twirl her back into him, but she ends up pulling away from him and storming off the dance floor. He follows closely behind and my heart thuds with growing frustration.
“Fuck,” I groan, feeling annoyingly out of control. “Julie, I have to go.”
“Hayden, just be honest with me first. Are you not attracted to me? Be specific. I’d rather you be straight with me than have this whole weak, ‘It’s not you, it’s me excuse.’”
“Julie, you’re beautiful. I’m a fucking mess. Believe me. You don’t want a thing from me.”
I slip past Julie and head over to Finley and Brody to let them know they should go check on her. The last thing I want is for someone to take advantage of her. She’s obviously going through something as well. Then I make my way through the crowd, back to the VIP section where I find Ethan completely wrapped around Vi, encasing her against the side railing and attempting to kiss her.
I see red.
Bright, angry, vengeful, frustrated, possessive red.
I don’t think. I just react.
“What the fuck’s going on?” I seethe through clenched teeth, grabbing Ethan by the shoulders and aggressively wrenching him backward.
“Oi, Hayden.” Ethan’s tone is light and playful, setting me more on edge. “Shove off. This has nothing to do with you.”
I turn my back to Vi, inserting myself between them so I’m nose-to-nose with Ethan. “Yes, it fucking does.” My words are slow and menacing.
“She hasn’t mentioned a thing about you, Hayden,” he sneers, giving me the look of a fucking righteous, self-entitled prick. “So I beg to differ, mate.”
I step even closer to him, inhaling a large breath.
“Hayden, stop it right there.” Vi’s tone is a warning as she moves to stand beside me. I ignore her, nudging my chest into Ethan. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of her heeled foot stamping on the ground in haste. “This is ridiculous. I can handle myself.”
“You heard her,” Ethan smirks cockily. Then he pats me heartily on my shoulder and gives me a light shove away from her.
Everything after that happens so fast. One second, I’m getting a light push from Ethan. The next, I’m shoving him using five times the force he did. He stumbles backward, clumsily tripping on his own feet. I can see what’s about to happen, but I’m frozen in time, unable to change the ripple effect even if I wanted to. He lands on his arse right on top of the glass coffee table. It cracks loudly and shatters beneath him. His hands fly out to catch himself on the frame before he crashes through to the floor.
Everything and everyone stops all around us. I swear, even the music does that scratched record sound you only see in old films. I’m still stuck in the single, solitary moment where everything before me went from bad to worse.
“Hayden,” Vi cries, bringing her hands to cover her mouth in horror at the mess in front of us.
I reach down and pull Ethan up out of the coffee table. A wetness covers my hand. I look down and see red, angry blood smeared all over my hand.
“Fuck, Ethan, are you hurt?”
Ethan’s eyes narrow at me as he straightens his tie. “I’ll live. At least mine wasn’t self-inflicted.”
My anger immediately falls as Ethan’s cutting remark casts an instant shroud of darkness over my soul. His blatant insinuation has its desired effect as shame completely envelops me.
Suddenly, a hefty bouncer appears and grabs me aggressively by the arm. I don’t even have the strength to look back as he twists my right arm behind my back with a painful crank. The only place my downcast gaze seeks is Vi. Humiliation and despair explode inside me, reflecting in my broken posture as her beautiful blue eyes look at me with utter sadness.
“You’re done, mate. You’re on the fucking shit list, and you won’t be coming back here ever again,” the bouncer growls as I’m dragged harshly through the club.
I shake my head, completely oblivious to what he’s saying, only thinking about Vi and what I’ve just done. He gives me another hard shove out the door for good measure, and I look back at the building in shock. How the fuck did that all happen so fast? I look down at my hands in horror and quickly wipe Ethan’s blood off on my jeans. I unsnap and re-snap my leather cuffs, nervously unsure what to do. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What are you doing, Hayden? What the fuck are you doing? I jam my hands into my pockets and pace angrily in front of the door.
A minute later, Theo’s stocky frame barrels through the door. “What the hell happened, Hayden?” His eyes bear down on me accusingly as he adjusts his glasses on his face. “Ethan’s fucking bleeding!”
“I know!” I shout. “I don’t know what fucking happened. I
lost it I guess!”
“Explain,” Theo cuts at me sharply.
Furious, I bellow, “Your mate Ethan is a self-righteous prick. How the fuck are you friends with him?”
Theo exhales through a frown. “You don’t know him well enough. He’s got a story the same way you have a story, Hayden.”
“He was fucking all over Vi!” I roar, wincing at the overwhelming urge I feel to sprint back inside and tear her out of there.
I don’t give a fuck about his story. Ethan’s a man-whore through and through. I need to talk to Vi. She deserves an explanation, and I need to make sure that twat isn’t still mucking about!
“Don’t even consider it,” Theo warns as he catches my piercing eyes on the bouncers, contemplating a way to get past them.
Then the gods of sod’s law seem to answer my silent prayers. I catch sight of a familiar figure in a red dress storming toward me, and she doesn’t look pleased.
I’M FURIOUS WHEN I FIND Hayden aggressively pacing outside of Club Shay. He looks like he’s raked his hands through his hair a thousand times since I saw him a moment ago. Theo stands to the side, properly glowering at his younger brother, who is clearly in the midst of an enormous tantrum.
“Are you fucking joking me?” I screech as soon as I’m out the doors. “Christ, Hayden! Tell me you are messing about and that was some elaborate bit you and Ethan planned for a laugh.”
Hayden’s hard grey eyes pierce me with his silent answer. I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to clench his jaw like he’s got something to be angry about. He begins to speak, but I cut him off.
“Bullshit is what that was. Embarrassing as fuck, rubbish! What were you trying to do?” My eyes are wide and crazy, my hair messy and coming loose around my face, but I couldn’t care less.
“Vi, he’s a bloody wanker!” Hayden roars, gesturing wildly toward the club doors.
Theo scoffs loudly, clearly unconvinced of his brother’s assessment of Ethan. I can’t say I completely blame Hayden for thinking so, but I’m still not about to let him off the hook.
“You think I don’t know that?” I exclaim, ignoring Theo’s brooding. “You think I can’t see that from a mile away? Fuck, Hayden! I’m not some meek, stupid blonde, despite what you so obviously think. I can handle myself. I’ve done a proper job of it for twenty-five years!” I cross my arms over my belly, feeling a chill from the cooling summer night.
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” He grips his leather cuffs protectively. A trait I’ve noticed he does when he’s feeling insecure. “I can read you, Vi. You didn’t want him all over you like that. I can’t just walk away and leave you to fend for yourself.”
“Why the bloody hell not?” I nearly yell, stamping my Monolo Blahnik in barely contained fury. He’s the one who continually pushed me away and stalked off, so why am I of any concern to him?
“I’m going back inside,” Theo says as mine and Hayden’s eyes remain locked on each other. “You two clearly don’t need a third wheel.”
As Theo heads back inside, I can’t help but think about how the entire scene between Hayden and Ethan is all too familiar. It reminds me of how Gareth reacted to seeing Pierce at the pub that night. The anger, the rage, the over-protectiveness. It’s frustrating as hell how men seem to insert themselves into my life at every turn.
“Hayden, you told me I deserve better, so I don’t know why this is even a discussion. Moreover, it wasn’t like Ethan was attacking me. He was just being a moron. I was actually putting him in his proper place when you showed up.”
“Yeah, it really fucking looked like it.” Hayden scrubs his hands through his hair and looks away.
My eyes narrow at his clear underestimation of me. I don’t need this shit. I storm past him, yanking open the door to one of the cabs waiting along the curb for the club-hoppers.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Hayden bellows. He shoves me into the vehicle and ducks in behind me. “I’m not done talking to you.”
I turn to face him in the dark backseat. “You cheeky bastard. Get your own cab.”
“Vi,” he fumes, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard I’m afraid his teeth will crack. “Please let me take you home. I need to explain myself and then I swear I’ll fucking shove off.”
I scowl angrily as the driver asks me what I want him to do. “Drive,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest. I angle as far away from Hayden as possible while looking out the window.
His breaths are heavy as he attempts to calm himself down in the painfully quiet car.
“So, speak!” I bark.
“I’m not bloody well doing it in front of this bloke.”
The driver’s head turns. “Ain’t nothing I ain’t heard before.”
Hayden shakes his head and looks out the window as we make our way back to my flat. We manage to arrive at Brick Lane without killing each other. I hop out without looking back, but I can hear Hayden’s long strides behind me. I reach my alley entrance and unlock the doors to the lift. He slides in beside me, remaining completely quiet, but is watching me warily. I glare at his apologetic reflection in the mirrored wall of the lift and roll my eyes. He’s got a lot of explaining to do. I don’t care how hot he looks inside my lift. I jam my key in and punch my fist on the button marked eleven, schooling my features to remain angry. One puppy-dog look isn’t going to get him off the hook.
The doors open and Bruce dives into the lift, attacking Hayden with happy licks, and pants, and tail-wagging.
Bloody traitor.
“Do you have to take Bruce for a walk?” he asks.
My heels clack on the slate flooring as I go to flick on the lamp in my seating area. I glance at the clock and see that it’s not quite one.
“I have a neighbour who walks him when I go out. He was here half an hour ago. I didn’t expect to be home this early.”
The light casts a warm glow on Hayden’s sombre face. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
I lift my brows, feeling an awful lot like I’m scolding one of my brothers for rowing on the pitch. “What for?”
“Vi,” he says my name on a shaky sigh. “You aren’t just some random bird to me.” His voice is husky as he speaks slowly and carefully. “And you’re not someone I can just forget about and walk away from.”
I flinch at his shocking comment, which renders me at a rare loss for words. “But last week, you totally brushed me off. Told me to get stuffed.”
He shifts his jaw back and forth in silent protest over my less than stellar paraphrasing. “I said all that because I don’t want to ruin everything around me, Vi.” He pushes a harsh hand through his hair and continues. “I’m finally feeling happy with life again, and I’m terrified of messing that up. It’s like this…In rehab, they have a rule of thumb. After you get out and you want to start a relationship, you have to buy a plant first. If you keep it alive, then you get a dog. If you keep both of them alive, then you can consider starting up with someone.”
“Okay…And?”
He purses his lips in disappointment. “It’s been a year and I can’t even bring myself to buy a bloody plant. I’m fucking terrified of failing and ruining everything I’ve gained back. Then I met you and you have a dog and a secret bloody garden on your roof!”
My jaw drops at his accusatory tone. “I pay someone to care for my garden!” I stamp my foot with indignation, feeling immediately defensive for some odd reason.
His eyes drift down my body, landing on my legs, and heat flourishes behind his hard grey stare. He licks his lips and his nostrils flare in challenge. “You have to stop stamping your foot.”
“Why?” My face screws up in disgust over his ridiculous demand.
“Because it makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and spank the ever-loving shit out of you. And then I’m going to want to fuck you until you forget whatever it is you’re angry at me for!”
My heart stops. Time freezes. “Hayden,” I croak, not all together comfortable with how my bo
dy is reacting to his sexual threat.
As if reading me like a book, his chin drops and he begins walking slowly toward me. His hand grips his wrist so hard his knuckles turn white. “Before…I didn’t think I could have you. But now I know there’s no way I can’t have you.” I inhale sharply at the twinkling determination in his eyes. “I want to know you, Vi. I want to know why you stamp your foot. And what exactly you love to cook. Whom you have dated. Why you spent six hundred pounds on a keepsake box that you’re going to give away.” He stops in front of me. “I want it all.”
“You’re so confusing, Hayden,” I reply, my voice embarrassingly breathy as he stands only a foot away from me. His eyes are glossy with obvious lust. Pure, undiluted lust. “You kiss me and run away, then kiss me and tell me I can do better. I don’t know what you’re even saying.”
He licks his lips thoughtfully. “I’m saying that when you showed up tonight looking the way you did…” He pauses as his eyes drift down my body. His heated expression makes me feel every drop of hot blood coursing through my veins. “I wanted to have you right then and there, but not in a club full of people. I wanted you in the privacy of your bedroom where the curves of your hips, the rise of your chest, the moisture on your lips are for me and me alone.”
I exhale at his guttural tone, and I’m embarrassed when a throaty noise comes out of my mouth. He takes the noise as permission and moves in closer, his posture hunched as he looks down at me. “So I’m sorry for some things, Vi. But I’m not sorry for interfering. Asking me to just walk away when a prat like Ethan Simmons worms himself within inches of your mouth…Your fucking mouth that I’ve touched with my lips and that I’ve claimed as mine in a thousand different fantasies…No, Vi. No. I’m not going to be sorry for that.”
“But you said—”
“Stuff what I said. I can’t stay away from you.” The words rush out of his mouth as he harshly grabs me by the waist. His bruising, firm grip shoves up the stretchy fabric of my top as his lips find mine in a desperate, needy kiss. He greedily yanks the cups of my bra down and caresses my nipples in such a way that I rip my mouth away from his and let out a strangled cry. I’m not all together certain I’ve ever heard that sound come from my mouth before.
