She’s a looker.
Watching her like a hawk hasn’t exactly been unpleasant. I’m many things, but not blind. I’d prefer it if she were ugly with a matching personality, but she’s far from it.
Not a flirtatious diva who throws herself at any man crossing her path. Not a pick-me-girl. Not an attention seeker. After Rhett mentioned she was Alex’s side babe, I imagined that stereotypical mean cheerleader from every teen movie ever made.
I couldn’t fathom that any self-respecting girl would knowingly agree to being second choice. The one Alex went to when he was bored.
Naturally, my mind went straight to the gullible, slutty teen tag, but Hailey defies the cliché.
She’s not a teen at twenty; though only just, given her birthday was only a month ago. She’s an enigma if I’m honest. She doesn’t fit into any mold I’ve tried to shove her in since I first saw her navigating the path toward the main building.
I watched her head whip left and right, surveying her surroundings as she trailed behind Melinda, arm in arm with Charles Vaughn. I watched her peer up and stare right at me as if summoned by the weight of my gaze. And I watched as every assumption I had shattered before my eyes.
Any time I think I get a handle on this girl, it follows the same road, getting obliterated immediately. No mold fits her. It’s fucking unnerving that I can’t riddle her out as easily as I do everyone else.
There’s an innocence about her, a realness that’d be extremely difficult to fake. One minute, she’s sharp around the edges and soft inside then she does a one-eighty and she’s like whipped cream with a liquor filling.
Part calm, part storm, entirely captivating, and oblivious to everything that makes her magnetic. Oblivious to the college boys looking back as she walks past. She’s insecure about her scars. Unaware how attractive she is if the shock crossing her face when I called herprettyis any indication.
One simple word, thrown casually in, confirmed a wealth of guesses I made while watching her from the sidelines after the incident in the cafeteria.
It was surprisingly easy to have her bump into me with a cup of hot coffee. She was so distracted she didn’t hear me step closer than necessary. As soon as she turned, I was there.
It cost me an extraordinary amount of self-control not to grip her throat, pin her against the wall and do all the don’ts, even with a hundred or so eyewitnesses in the cafeteria.
There were two good reasons to end this farce before it began. One: it would be the easiest way out—tamper with her healing brain. Two: Aalyiah—she deserves revenge.
Too bad there was one disturbing, infuriating thing that reined in my need to break Hailey: what I found in her stormy blue eyes.
I examined her on the stage with Jensen. I watched her while I acted on that very fucking same stage with Chloe, but our eyes never locked. Not until the cafeteria. When I finally stared into her blues, I sawvulnerability.
It poked something inside me, sparking a feeling dangerously close to empathy, so I reined in the need to bring this game to a premature checkmate. There’s no telling whether any of the don’ts would permanently erase her memories.
What jumping her on the first day would have done is ensure she’d never trust me. I’m glad I held back. Though why my arms snapped around her waist when her body careened toward the lake is fucking beyond me.
I could’ve let her fall. With a bit of luck, she could have been a lousy swimmer and drowned, ridding me of Rhett’s damn problem. I’d be out of here within the hour. All I had to do was let her fall, but those tempting possibilities didn’t cross my mind in the split second it took to save her.
I ran on instinct. Pure adrenaline propelled me upright to grab her and keep her from harm. Or, if she’s a great swimmer, an unplanned cold bath.
While closing my eyes in the depths of the lake acts like a sensory deprivation tank, helping me align my thoughts—which is why I was there, avoiding the college party—I doubt Hailey would appreciate the brutal back-to-reality wake-up call.
Besides, if she drowned, it’d be all too easy to lay the blame on me with Jensen standing twenty feet away, so yeah, I had no choice but to save Hailey Scarlett Vaughn.
Her quickly returning memories are why thedo the don’tsstrategy has to give way toearn her trust.
It’s for the best. Rhett’s primary objective shouldn’t be ensuring Hailey won’t remember where the evidence is. He should retrieve and destroy it before it ends up in the wrong hands.
He’s clearly on edge, making questionable decisions, so I’ll navigate the board and take down the queen.
I watch Hailey saunter toward Jensen, her shoulders tense, steps fast but cautious. I’m not sure if she’s fleeing from me, or the memory that pulled her under.
The cornered animal panic tainting her delicate features while she grappled with the past plays before my eyes. My hands clench into fists so hard my fingers are numb and right now I’m sure that thing she’s sparked inside meisempathy.
It shouldn’t be there but I can’t stop wondering who the fuck hurt this girl.
Whatdoes she remember?
Whohad their hands on her neck?
