by Daws, Amy
“Hayden, stop.” Tears fall down my cheeks as my façade of dismissiveness begins cracking.
“Love me still. Please,” he begs, his hands trembling against my cheeks.
I shake my head, refusing to accept the pain on his face. The pain that he caused me now reflecting back. “I can’t, Hayden. It’s too late,” my voice cracks. I turn to hide my tears and, without warning, he moves into me and yanks my face to his.
Pain…
Lust…
Punishment…
And love.
All of it overcomes me as the familiar stroke of his lips on mine crushes every remaining shred of strength I had. My hands bite into his biceps as his tongue enters my mouth, demanding its welcome. Demanding its acceptance. Demanding what else, I’m not entirely sure.
He presses me up against the bottles and grabs the back of my thigh, pulling it up to his hip. Closing the distance between us, he touches himself against my warm centre as his tongue tangles with mine. The ache I feel to connect with him—to pull him inside of me and hold him there—brings tears to my eyes as the absolute truth of the moment cascades over me.
This kiss is ruining me forever.
I won’t live through this.
Because the idea of ever kissing another man—a man who’s not Hayden—is a death sentence for my fragile heart.
Tears invade our mouths. Hayden breaks away from me, panting heavily against my face. The tortured look in his glossy gaze is pleading. “This isn’t fucking over, Vi.” His voice stutters with uncertainty, recognising what I’ve always known to be true. “You’re mine.” He pushes himself off the wall and storms out of the alcove.
And possibly out of my heart for good.
“STOP WISHING AWAY YOUR PAST, Hayden. Start wishing to make the most of your future.”
Vi’s words are a strike to my heart as I glance down at my watch to see 11:11 approaching. “Fuck,” I mumble, cupping my head in my hands at the head table.
How I thought I could ever survive a world without Vi is beyond me. Kissing her is like breathing. Necessary and rudiment for survival. In the short time I’ve known her, she’s brought so much out in me. I hate myself for not seeing it sooner.
Leslie bustles over in her huge gown, her happy eyes widening as she takes in my pained expression. “What happened?” she asks as she slides into a chair beside me.
“I love her, Leslie. I love, love her,” my voice croaks as I exhale a painful sigh over the fear that it might not be enough. “But I think I’ve ruined it.”
“Nonsense,” she says, yanking my hands away from my head. “You didn’t ruin anything. Hayden, do you have any idea how much it took for me to fall for your brother? He chased me all through London because my outlook on love was terrible. My past saw to that. But look at me right now. Do you see anything in me besides one hundred percent certainty in my feelings for Theo?”
I shake my head incredulously. “You guys make it look easy.”
“Love is never easy. But when it’s right, it’s number one above everything.” She touches my wrist gently, and my brows crumple in silent pain. “If she’s the one, Hayden, you have to show her that you will put her first…above your past.”
“I’ve spent years wishing away my past,” I reply, staring down at her hand cupping my wrist, my eyes nervously flashing to the time on my watch.
“Then start there. Prove it to her somehow. Hell, make a splash, Hayden!” she exclaims and grabs the wireless mic from the table.
I stare at it in horror. “No. Not here. Not now.”
“There’s no better time, baby bro. I don’t know if you noticed, but Theo and I are kind of on your side and stuff.” She winks playfully and offers me a saccharinely sweet smile. “And we want Marisa to have a cousin sooner rather than later.”
I roll my eyes, but the corner of my mouth lifts. I glance down at my watch again. Only a few minutes to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vi striding back to her table. Gareth stands and she gestures to her jacket. He looks confused but hands it to her.
No! She can’t leave. Before I even make a conscious decision to do what I’m about to do, my fingers wrap around the mic. “Just remember you fucking asked for this.”
Leslie giggles with excitement. “Oh my God, this is going to be awesome. Do it to it!”
“I’m doing it,” I growl as I flick the mic on halfway through my sentence. A loud crack and hiss of feedback halts everyone’s conversations. “Uh, sorry. Hiya. Um.” I suck in my cheeks and bite down to stop myself from cursing. “I’m Hayden Clarke, Theo’s brother.”
“And mine,” Leslie chirps quietly from beside me. The crowd looks up at me excitedly. Except Vi.
“I know speeches happened already, but there’s one more speech I need to make.” The background music suddenly cuts off, and I see Jaci no K press through the frozen couples on the dance floor. She is staring at me in horror over messing with her perfectly mapped itinerary. My nerves roll in like a dust storm as I add, “And I’m sorry, but it has nothing to do with the bride and groom.”
I tear my watchful eyes from a furious Jaci and glance pointedly at Vi. Her jaw hangs open as she remains unmoving by the table. She looks so fucking gorgeous, even with her gobsmacked mouth.
“Vi,” I start, looking down awkwardly. “You told me once that I don’t get to keep forever to myself, and I’d like to repeat those words back to you right now.”
A few gasps echo in the room, and I look up to see her bring a hand to her mouth in shock. “Your forever is mine, Vi. Your forever belongs to me whether you’re ready to accept it or not.
“I was afraid there was too much that time could not erase for me.” I peek down at my watch and see there are still two minutes to go. “But when I hold you in my arms, time doesn’t even exist anymore. I feel brand new. I feel happy and healthy. I was so determined to get there on my own that I couldn’t accept all that you were giving me. You listened to every horrid moment of my life and not one of them scared you away.”
My head drops. The feeling in my chest that started as a trickle the first moment I saw her now bursting inside of me like a gushing pipe.
“Vi Harris, falling for you has been a series of single, solitary important moments. That moment I first saw your tears as we sat together in the dog park. That moment Bruce knocked you over on your porch and you just giggled. God that giggle.” I close my eyes against the tears. “That moment when I watched you holding my niece,” I croak and then open my eyes to meet her glossy gaze again. “That moment you kissed my scars.
“Vi, you’re afraid that you’re unlovable? Bunny, I fell in love with you the day we ran in the rain outside your flat. There was a moment when you looked at me and saw into my soul. Christ, Vi, I love you. I’ve never felt more alive than right this moment, loving you.”
A sob erupts from Leslie, but I refuse to look down. I refuse to break my blurred, tunnelled, suspended view of the woman I love.
“It’s 11:11, Vi. And my final wish—my final request to the universe—is that I will save all my wishes for you. Every one of them. Belongs to you.”
Her face crumples as she cups her mouth to hide her sobs. Gareth motions with his head for her to come to me, and my grasp instantly releases the mic. I rush around the table and slip between the couples still frozen in shock on the dance floor. She bustles over to me, her blonde hair and red dress flowing freely behind her.
Just as we connect in the middle…
Just as my trembling hands take hers in mine…
Just before she presses her lips to my mouth…
…I look into her glittering blue eyes and realise that all of those wishes I made before trying to change my past would have kept me from this beautiful reality standing in my arms.
“I love you, Vi. I’ve loved you for so many moments, and I don’t want to waste any more time not telling you.”
She silences me with her lips. Her perfect fucking lips that kiss me harder than I’ve ever b
een kissed in my entire life. Or maybe it’s just a normal, everyday kiss but feels different now that everything’s changed.
She pulls away, reverently wiping away the tears falling freely down my face. “You could have just said all that earlier, you know. Who knew My Hayden had such a flare for the dramatics?” she giggles.
God, she fucking giggles.
She kisses me once more before pulling back and whispering in my ear the words that I’m finally ready to hear. The words that have the ability to bring me to my knees and raise me right back up.
“I love you, too,” she says with a sigh.
I smirk.
She loves me, too.
HAYDEN’S VOICE IS LOUD AND demanding. “You are out of your fucking mind if you think you’re going to Barcelona with Vi. I mean it, Booker. This isn’t even up for discussion.”
“Who the bloody hell do you think you are coming into my house and barking orders around like you’re the boss? You’re right lucky I’m not skinning you alive, you fucking wanker,” Booker snaps aggressively.
“Wanker?! Real mature.” Hayden looks at me, his grey eyes going wide like he’s asking me to step in and help.
I just continue hiding my smile.
“Yes, Hayden, you’re a fucking wanker. An old fucking wanker, and you’re not going to Barcelona with my sister,” Booker barks again.
“Booker, you would tread very carefully if you knew what was good for you.” Hayden’s tone is low and menacing.
“You think I’m afraid of you? What a laugh. Oi, are you going to thump me with your calculator? You fucking nerdling.”
“Oh, go kick a fucking ball. I’m taking Vi to Barcelona!”
“Think I should break this up?” I murmur under my breath to Gareth all the while attempting to hide my giggles.
His eyes alight with amusement. “Hell no! This is the best farewell I’ve had so far! Let’s see who draws blood first!”
We’re seated at the end of the long wooden table in our dad’s kitchen, our chins propped on our hands as Hayden and Booker stand nose-to-nose at the opposite end. They are in the middle of an epic battle of wills for who gets to go with me to Barcelona. I silently cast my vote for Hayden because I feel badly about inviting Booker originally. And damn if I wouldn’t love a proper holiday with Hayden. It’s been three weeks since Theo and Leslie’s wedding, and I am more smitten with him now than I was before. There’s just something about a man uttering the words “I love you” while he swats your arse lovingly that makes everything inside of you get all warm and gooey.
“This is actually my house,” Dad finally interjects after he’s nearly licked the plate of Swedish pancakes I made special for Hayden’s visit today.
I hop up when I hear Bruce barking at the door. I let him in from his trot outside. He’s panting ferociously with huge strings of slobber hanging from his mouth.
“Good dog,” I say as he nosedives for his water bowl. I squat down beside him and whisper in his ear, “What do you think of him, Bruce? Do you approve of my bulldozing bruiser of a boyfriend?”
Hayden’s heated gaze glances over at me, clearly no longer listening to my brother who’s still chirping away. He watches me with that possessive sense of ownership that he gets every time he hears me call him my boyfriend. It would be quite funny, actually, if it wasn’t so bloody sexy.
Bruce suddenly laps at my face happily, soaking my entire cheek.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I cringe and give him a hearty pet. Then I stride over to the sink to rinse my face, feeling Hayden’s eyes still on me.
“Vi, are there any more?” Tanner asks, carrying his plate over to the counter and picking around the dishes that are scattered everywhere.
“They’re going with Gareth to Manchester. Sorry, Tan.”
He frowns. “Gareth gets everything.”
“Because he’s a bloody suck up,” Camden mumbles as he washes his hands in the sink next to me.
This makes me smile. Today was Hayden’s first proper Harris Sunday dinner. Gareth definitely helped clear the path for his re-entry into the Harris Brothers’ good graces. Whatever Hayden said to him at Leslie’s wedding must have won him over because I’ve never seen him react to a boyfriend this well. Although, after this Barcelona battle, I’m quite certain Hayden will be on Booker’s shit list for quite some time.
“Oi!” I finally interrupt after having listened to this dreary argument for nearly twenty minutes. “Enough. I’ve brought presents for everyone, and I’d like to hand them out now if you’d all shut your gobs.”
Hayden and Booker’s heads both swerve to me. Booker’s expression looks positively psychotic. Hayden’s face is flushed red with anger, but his eyes heat with a different kind of fire when they land on mine. God, he’s beautiful. And he loves me.
I bite my lip to conceal my happy smile and stand to grab the large bag I brought over with me. Everyone settles into their chairs, Booker still mumbling obscenities under his breath.
“So,” I start as Hayden takes the heavy bag from me and sets it on the table. I grin at him as he subtly pats my bottom behind the table. “This is something kind of special that took some organising for me to get it all perfect. As you all know, I went through Mum’s cookbooks and basically claimed that entire box as my own. But what you don’t know is that there weren’t only cookbooks in there.”
I pull out a wooden keepsake box from the bag. My fingers smooth over the glossy wood and I smile recalling the night I helped Hayden stain them. I sit down on my stool and eye all of my brothers meaningfully.
“There was a special book inside the box that wasn’t full of recipes. It was full of poems. Poems that Mum wrote. I couldn’t read them for the longest time because most of them were written in Swedish, and it took some time for me to get them all translated. That’s what I’ve done here.
“They vary in topics, but the majority of them are the feelings she had during motherhood. There are also several poems about you, Dad.” I look at my dad, whose eyes are rimmed as he stares at the box in my hands.
“I’m not sure I can read them,” he croaks and turns away, a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth eyes me seriously, speaking straight to my soul with unspoken words about the guilt our father must still carry with him.
Grabbing the box, I walk over to him and touch his shoulder. He shudders with emotion, and Tanner and Camden’s eyes go wide in confusion.
“You must read these, Dad. The way Mum spoke of you…” My voice cracks. “We should all be so lucky to find what you two had.”
Dad looks up at me, his dark blue eyes glistening with unshed tears as his chin betrays him with a mighty wobble. “I should have done better.”
I smile sadly. “You did what you could. Mum saw that, and she loved you fiercely. Even in the end. You’ll see.” I push the box toward him.
“Oh, Vi,” he croaks and pulls me down into a fearsome hug. “Thank you, my darling.”
“You’re welcome, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He releases me and I see Camden’s eyes red around the edges.
“Chin up, men. Let me pass all these out. I have specific boxes for each of you because Mum also saved some crafts that we made for her as kids. Booker, your craft is quite awful, really. You were only one and clearly untalented.”
Camden and Tanner howl with laughter. Dad places a reassuring hand on Booker’s shoulder all the while his belly is shaking with silent laughs. Booker frowns in annoyance. “That’s just cruel, Vi.”
I giggle and wink at him while peeking inside each box and handing them out appropriately. I carry Gareth’s over to him and notice that he’s been eerily silent this entire time.
“There’s a special one about friendship in there,” I say quietly to Gareth. “It’s called ‘Friendship Has No Age,’ and I’m pretty certain it’s entirely about you.”
Gareth’s jaw clenches and he nods woodenly. They all open their boxes and begin shuffling through the poems that I
had printed on special paper.
“Dad, I put the Swedish originals in your box.”
“These boxes are beautiful,” Booker says, rubbing his fingers over the underside of the lid where Hayden burned an inscription on the interior:
Vilma Nyström Harris ~ Wife, Mother, Friend
An original soul always in our hearts.
“Hayden made them, actually. All of them. And he did the inscription.”
Booker’s eyes lift to mine and then flash over to Hayden. He frowns and croaks seriously, “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Hayden replies and they exchange subtle nods. A peace offering, perhaps?
“You’re still not going to Barcelona,” Booker grumbles and everyone bursts into a mix of annoyed groans and laughs.
I smile at my dad and four brothers, who really aren’t all that dissimilar to Hayden in the end. Perhaps that’s how he was able to somewhat win them over. The whole lot of them are all brooding, protective, over-bearing, but completely devoted men, who care for you absolutely once you’ve breached their hardened hearts. I hope someday my brothers can all have their own love stories.
And Hayden has breached my heart for good. My soul sings as I stare at the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs along with the other important men in my life. Those crinkles are the sexiest road map to his happy place. A happy place that includes me.
It’s dark outside by the time Hayden and I leave my dad’s. We head straight to my flat where we’ve been spending most of our nights. We do hang out with Theo, Leslie, and Marisa some, but the majority of our time is spent here. I think Theo and Leslie have been appreciating their alone time, especially since Marisa seems to be growing out of her fussy stage.
“Your brothers aren’t as tough as they seem,” Hayden says as we flop onto the wicker sunbed in my rooftop garden. The Chinese lanterns glow down on us, casting a warm, cosy ambience in the dark London night. “They’re all bark, no bite. Booker is lucky that I was feeling generous today.”
I grin as he tucks into my back and spoons me in that delicious way that turns him into the cosiest Hayden blanket. “Booker gets Barca, you get South of France,” I say with a comfortable sigh.
