Calm down your imagination, girl.The rational side of my brain jumps in.It’s just the shock of finally being face-to-face with him after all these years.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I watch him bend over to set the box down, admiring his tight ass in his dark jeans. His leather cutcreaks as he stands, and I see his profile. He’s not looking at me, but I swear there’s a faint smirk on his lips.
Flustered, I pick up the last, smaller box and close the door with my foot. I hadn’t taken off my heels when I came in initially, so I do so now, then go to the kitchen and set the box with the other two on the island.
Hayes’ eyes move over me, taking in the ivory silk blouse I’m wearing that’s tucked into high-waisted, taupe, wide-leg trousers. Then he lifts his blue eyes to mine.
“You look beautiful, Leeva.” His voice is husky.
Like a caress.
But I shake that thought off because this is Hayes, my best friend—formerbest friend—and he’s never thought of me in any other way than that.
His eyes move to my neck, and I feel the old spot where Guerilla’s tattoo was—where it should’ve never been. My skin feels like it’s on fire beneath his stare. “How did you remove his mark?”
My hand flutters up to my neck, then I shake my head. “You’re not distracting me, Army. How did you know I was here?”
His jaw shifts. “You never call me by my road name. It’s always been Hayes…always.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “A lot has changed.”
And it’s not just me who has changed. Besides his body size changes, there’s a darkness within him that had never been there before.
His ebony hair is the same color, though, and the same waviness. I remember it being soft, and right now, I want to thread my fingers through it and pull his head down to mine.
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the inappropriate thoughts out of my head. When I open them again, Hayes is unloading the groceries.
We put the food away in silence. It’s clear the house is new to me as I open and close cupboards and the pantry, trying to find the right spot for everything.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask again.
He opens the fridge and starts filling it with perishables. “Digits.”
“He’s that good now that he knew I was back in the city?”
Digits—birth name Kade Collons, but he, like Hayes, had gotten his road name very young, even before they had been patched in. I knew he had some hacking skills, but I wasn’t aware he could find and track people.
“He’s scary good,” Hayes says, shutting the fridge door. He leans against it, studying me. “His program flagged an alert for you when you landed at the airport. On a private jet registered to Wentzell Global. And the lone passenger was listed as Kathryn Wentzell.”
Unease and alarm ripple through me at what Digits had been able to discover, plus that he had a program searching for me. “You were looking for me? For all these years?”
“Digits was.”
Okay, ouch.
His gaze flicks down to my neck again, then back up. “Tell me about the tattoo removal, and how you came to be Kathryn Wentzell.”
“No. Answer my questions first.”
“I answered one; now you answer one of mine. Tit for tat, little dove.”
My teeth clench, but I answer, “I had the tattoo professionally removed.”
“Obviously,” he deadpans. “But how, without any lingering sign or evidence of it ever being there?”
More unease and alarm courses through me, making my heart race because that’s awfully detailed for just having seen my neck without being up close to study it. “How do you know that?”
“Because I checked.”
