At last, something genuine flashed through Hayes’s eyes.
Annoyance.
Pure, unfiltered irritation.
“Is this actually going somewhere?” he tried to ask, but I held up a finger, shushing him.
“Don’t interrupt me. I was just getting to the good part. What was I saying… Ah, yes. So, I couldn’t talk back because of all the—” I gestured toward my face. “Stuff happening inside my mouth, right? And that went on for quite some time until you suddenly, mid-sentence, turned into a swarm of moths. I don’t even know what that means, but it can’t be a good thing, right? I’m pretty sure moths are a bad omen.”
Hayes pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can stop now. Message received.”
His expression hovered somewhere in that gray area between annoyance and indifference, like he couldn’t decide if I was worth the reaction.
I wasn’t sure what he expected. It was exactly the kind of answer a question like that deserved. And if it also happened to ruffle his perfectly composed feathers a bit, well… that was just a happy coincidence.
“Don’t get your lab coat in a twist, Hayes,” I said, figuring I should at least throw him a bone. The guy was only trying to be friendly, in his own way. “Look, I have nothing against you personally. I’m just not the warm and fuzzy type, in case you haven’t already noticed.”
It wasn’t like I could actually tell him the truth, now could I? That there was something about him that set off every internal alarm I had?
While I wasn’t a stranger to toeing the line between blunt honesty and outright rudeness, even I had some tact. Besides, I had yet to meet a person who wasn’t wearing some sort of mask. It wasn’t always about hiding something sinister. Forsome, it was simply about making it through the day.
Hayes’s mask just happened to fit a little more seamlessly than most.
His expression lifted slightly, like a stray puppy perking up at the first hint of kindness. “Stay for a drink, then.”
I hesitated, my fingers fiddling with the watch on my wrist, the metal warm against my skin. “I don’t know. It’s getting kind of late…”
Part of me wanted to leave, to escape this strange interaction and go home to my empty bed. But another part—the part that was already a few drinks deep and feeling pleasantly numb—didn’t actually mind the company.
Hayes didn’t try to change my mind or press the issue. He continued to watch me, patient as ever, like he already knew what my answer would be.
Fuck it. Why the hell not?
“Alright, fine,” I muttered, settling back onto the barstool with a resigned sigh. “But just one drink, you hear me? I have to get up early tomorrow.”
The smile I got in response was almost sweet.
It was too bad he still gave me the creeps.
“This one’s on me,” Hayes said, raising a hand to signal the bartender.
Now he was speaking my language.
I leaned against the bar and propped my chin on my palm. With his attention elsewhere, I took the opportunity to quietly observe him.
Hayes had one of those faces that didn’t catch the eye at first glance. It wasn’t striking in any traditional sense, but if you looked at it long enough, the small imperfections would slowly start to draw you in. There was a small crook in the slope of hisnose, most likely from an old break that hadn’t been properly reset, leaving it slightly off-center. The lines around his eyes and mouth were faint, like he hadn’t spent much of his life smiling. His lower lip had a slight fullness to it, just enough to soften the rest of his more angular features. Along his jaw, a five o’clock shadow was slowly beginning to creep in.
“So, then…” I began, breaking the silence. “What exactly is your deal?”
“My deal?” Hayes echoed, turning back to face me fully.
“Why do you want me to like you so much? Is it some weird ego thing, or do you just have an overwhelming need to be universally adored?”
The bluntness of the question didn’t seem to offend him; it drew a quiet laugh, instead.
“You really don’t mince your words, do you, Detective?”
“Nah, I don’t like to waste my time with bullshit. I always say what I mean.”
