“I’ll be back. I’m going to the restroom.” Hayes doesn’t wait for anyone to respond, just walks away.
My gaze follows him.
“Sit, Elias, tell me whatever you were telling Leighton that had her laughing so hard,” Mr. Carlisle says.
Mrs. Carlisle sits next to Dave, looking just as intrigued as her husband.
Elias lowers to his chair, eyeing me the entire time. I should save him, I really should, but instead, I place my hand on Mrs. Carlisle’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
She taps my hand with hers. “Take your time, sweetie. I might go back for more cookies. I’m celebrating.”
I squeeze her hand, so happy that she got good news today.
“Leighton?” Elias says as I step away from the table.
I raise my hand. I should offer a more thorough explanation, but I need to clear this up with Hayes.
I walk down the hall, dodging all the visitors and staff going to get lunch. I weave through people, my footsteps increasing in speed, trying to reach Hayes before he reaches the bathroom. When I get close enough, I call his name. He doesn’t stop, so I set off in a light jog, trying to be inconspicuous, which is hard since I’m jogging through a hospital hallway.
I grab his arm. “Hayes,” I say, catching my breath.
“Don’t worry about it. Go back and eat before you have to go back to work.”
I tug him out of the way of the people, closer to the wall. “It’s not what you think.”
He gives me a fleeting glance, refusing to look me in the eye. “It’s fine. It’s fake, remember? I can’t be mad.”
“But you are?” My voice wavers because it kills me to see him hurting. Does he think I can’t read his body language? Hell, Monroe could, he’s making it so obvious.
“Just go back to your perfect guy. He checks off all your boxes, right?”
“Hayes.” I don’t want to talk about my safe guy list when my entire body aches for him.
“He’s a safe bet, right?” He steps in, closing us off from the chaos, his thigh sandwiched between my legs. “The one you can depend on?”
He pushes his leg against my core, and my hands grab his arms on instinct. His strong biceps bunch under my touch. His hand goes to my hip to keep me in place. Heat radiates from him. Frustration, want, and possession all mixed together. And God help me, I’m greedy for whatever he’ll give me.
There are so many people walking by, I’m hoping we look as though we’re just having a conversation, and I’m not seconds away from begging him to push his thigh up a little more.
“You think he won’t hurt you, but I will?” The pain and frustration radiating out of Hayes’s dark eyes is my undoing.
“I never said that.” My voice is breathless, and he pushes his thigh into me. I shamelessly grind down, just a bit, my hands clinging to his arms.
His gaze strips away from me, then his thigh is gone, and I’m whimpering as he drags me around the corner, our steps uneven, his head moving back and forth, searching both sides of the hallway. He opens a door, looks both ways, and nudges me inside.
I realize it’s a janitorial closet when he flicks the light, which is a pale yellow, barely lighting up the space. The air in here is hot and dusty, but it’s closed off from prying eyes, leaving him and me and the desire coursing between us.
My back goes to the racks, and he steps into my space again.
“Now, where were we?” He wedges his thigh between my legs again, and I let out a soft whimper. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear with a gentleness that belies his intensity. “You were going to tell me how you want that guy because he’s a safer bet?”
“I wasn’t. I’m not.” My hips betray me, greedily rolling forward. He keeps pressing his thigh in the right spot, and all I want to do is grind on it until I come apart.
“That’s not what it looked like to me. Do you think he can make you feel what you’re feeling right now?”
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head.
He holds both my hips, and I press my hands down on his wrists, anchoring myself so I can grind along his hard, muscled thigh. The pressure sends sparks up my spine, and my nipples pebble in my bra, begging for friction of their own.
