Like I told Hayden… We’re not building a future together. As far as I’m concerned, thereisno future for us. This is temporary. Nothing more.
He needs someone to infuse a little life back into him. Someone who makes him smile. Who makes him laugh. Who makes him feel all the things he’s deprived himself of this past year.
I’m more than willing to volunteer for the position, especially after the way he made me feel last night. My god… The man was incredible.
I had a feeling it would be, especially after that kiss. You don’t have such a strong, visceral reaction to something as innocent as a kiss and end up unsatisfied in bed.
And Hayden definitely satisfied me. If my count’s correct, by the time he finally went back to his bedroom at around three this morning, he’d satisfied me five times.
I’ve never done anything five times in one night except binge a Netflix show.
As much as I want to sleep, my body’s on a schedule, thanks to the medication I need to take.
With a quiet groan, I push the covers off and pad into the bathroom. The tile is cool under my feet as I retrieve the little container I keep tucked behind my toiletries — my collection of orange bottles with labels I’ve memorized by heart.
My morning companions for the rest of my life.
I swallow them one by one with water, the routine asautomatic as brushing my teeth, before lifting my eyes toward the mirror, studying my reflection.
Flushed cheeks. Kiss-swollen lips. Hair wild and unapologetic.
I look…happy.
Which is strange, since I’ve spent the last several months following whatever brought me joy.
But a delicious piece of pie isn’t the same as the things I experienced last night with Hayden.
After pulling my dark hair into some sort of messy bun, I tug on a pair of soft sleep shorts and an oversized tee, then head toward the kitchen.
The house is quiet this early in the morning, the sun starting to filter through the windows, washing everything in pale gold. The air smells faintly like laundry detergent and something distinctly Hayden — something woodsy and clean.
As I step into the kitchen, I expect it to be empty.
Instead, Hayden’s standing by the sink, staring out the window.
Shirtless.
Of course, he’s shirtless.
The morning light catches along the planes of his back, highlighting the broad line of his shoulders. He looks almost contemplative, like his thoughts are weighing him down. My stomach immediately dips.
Does he regret it?
Regret me?
But when he turns and his eyes land on mine, a slow, devastating smile spreads across his face.
No regret.
Just heat.
He crosses the room in three easy strides and pulls me into him.
We didn’t discuss the limitations of whatever this is. I figured it would be a friends with benefits situation. Or, more accurately, boss with benefits. We’d satisfy our cravings when the mood strikes, but that’s it. I certainly didn’t expect him to wrap me in his arms and bury his face in the crook of my neck.
But that’s exactly what he does. And I didn’t realize how much I’d been craving this simple contact until this moment.
“You’re up early,” I say. “I thought you’d sleep in today.”
