Watching Hayes pull away, thinking I was losing him, made me reckless. Desperate. I lashed out in the only way I knew how in the moment. I let myself useDylan to feel wanted, because some fractured, impulsive part of me figured that if Hayes was going to act like I didn’t matter, I’d prove someone else thought I did.
How could I have been so foolish?
My bare feet sink into the soft carpet as I slide out of bed, doing my best to ignore the blistering ache behind my eyes. I need to find Hayes and talk to him.
I’m still so confused. Everything between us feels unresolved, tangled. He ignores me for days, makes me believe he’s pulled away, outgrown our friendship, outgrown me. And then he shows up like last night, out of nowhere, ready to burn the world down for me.
Hesavedme.
That has to mean something. Right?
Argyros trails faithfully at my side as I step out of Hayes’s bedroom and trudge into the kitchen. Sunlight spills through the windows in sharp, golden slants, catching on sleek countertops and gleaming stainless-steel appliances that look like they’ve never been used. The whole space feels more like a luxury condo than a college apartment—minimalist, spotless, and expensive in a quiet, understated way.
Hayes stands at the fridge, shirtless, the morning light tracing the lines of his back and shoulders like a sculpture come to life. His pajama pants ride low on his hips, hinting at the cut of smooth muscle that disappears beneath the waistband.
I know I should say something, but I can’t stop staring.
God, he’s beautiful.
I hover at the edge of the kitchen, just inside the wide archway. My mouth opens, then closes—useless. Whatever I meant to say evaporates, my thoughts dissolving into static. Every nerve ending buzzes as I watch him.
He turns, catching me mid-stare.
“Going somewhere, Alligator?”
“No,” I blurt, too fast, the back of my neck burning. “Just… looking for you.”
“I was on my way back to the bedroom.” He shuts the fridge with a casual bump of his hip, then crosses the room barefoot, holding two bottles of water. “Thought you might be thirsty,” he says, offering one to me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it, the bottle cool against my skin.
He walks toward the kitchen island, sliding onto one of the barstools and gesturing to the empty space beside him. “Sit,” he says, patting the seat.
I take a deep breath and slide in next to him, bracing for the conversation I know is coming. Argyros pads over immediately, like he senses the tension in the air, and settles between us. He circles once before curling into a tight ball beneath my chair, pressing his warm nose against my ankles and letting out a soft huff.
I gather my nerve.
“So about last night?—”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I know.” I lift my chin. “But I want to.”
His eyes sharpen, searching my face with thatquiet, careful intensity that always makes it hard to breathe. It’s like he can see right into me—every thought, every crack.
“Just tell me, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” His voice hardens, steel threading through it. “Because if he hurt you…” He pauses, something dark and dangerous flickering in his eyes. “I swear to God, I’ll kill that piece of shit?—”
“I said I’m fine!”
The words come out sharper than I intend. Hayes flinches, just barely, but I catch it. That quick flicker of hurt before he schools his expression back into calm.
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking a careful sip of water to steady myself.
I don’t know where the sudden anger came from. I’m not mad at Hayes. Of course I’m not. He wasn’t the creep who cornered me in a frat house backyard. He wasn’t the one who ignored my no.
