“I didn’t exactly. No.” She pauses. “I’ve been dealing with something.”
“You and me both.” I respond dryly.
When her eyes catch the still wet pool of drool on my chest, she gasps. “Oh no. Is that my fault?”
I could take this opportunity to toy with her, but I think better of it. “I’d like to think it’s actually my fault because I fucked you so good, you couldn’t even keep your secretions to yourself.”
She winces at my brazenness. “We fucked.”
“Well, I did most of the fucking actually, but you did do so well for me. I’ll give you that.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“If we’re going to exchange names, you have to let me take you to breakfast.”What the actual fuck are you doing, Hayes?
I can see the decision formulating in her brain while she chews that lip of hers that I would very much like to bite. A few seconds later, she’s offering her hand to me. “Demi.”
I give her small hand a quick shake in return. “Hayes.”
Demi
I’ve been standing outside his room for far too long and I have no idea why. I just went to my room to prove to CeCe I was still alive and unmaimed, shower and then come back. He’s expecting me, so why can’t I knock? Whatismy fucking problem?
The door swings open, breaking me from my silent meltdown and I glance up to see those baby blues I can’t seem to get out of my fucking head.
“How long were you planning on standing there before you knocked?” he–Hayes says in what I’m now sure isnotjust a charming tone he uses to get laid. It’s… just his voice.
Wait a minute.I cross my arms and raise an accusatory eyebrow. “How did you know I was standing out here?”
The jerk literally fucking chuckles at me.
“Did I forget to tell you I have psychic powers?”
What is it with this guy? He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met. He’s got charm seeping from his pores. He smells like sin and sexy spice. Oh, and he also has the distinction of being the only man to have ever been inside me. He really knows what he’s doing with the third leg he’s carrying around, I’ll give him that.Doesn’t that thing hurt his back? How does it not hurt to walk? It hurts me to walk and it’s not even there anymore.
I have to get my shit together with this guy. Keep my wits about me. As my best friend reminded me so sweetly, just a few minutes ago, I’m still grieving my ex and the last thing I need is to attach myself to another person when I’m not even overheryet. Besides… he’s not my type.
“Someone’s having morning-after regret. I’d recognize that look anywhere.” His face is marred with a touch of concern as he regards me.
“N-no. I don’t regret what happened,” I reassure him. “I wanted it.”
“So what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, then?”
“Can we talk about it when we get to wherever we’re going?”
He nods and reaches for my hand. I know I shouldn’t, but I give it to him and we make our way, in silence, out of the hotel and a block and a half down the street to some hole-in-the-wall diner that looks like it’s been here for twenty years.
He walks in like he owns the place, tugging me behind him until we’re at the farthest booth from the door. He nudges me to scoot into one side of the booth and then–to my surprise–he slides in next to me. I wish it didn’t, but his proximity makes my head spin.
“Hayes,” the waitress announces, stepping up and unceremoniously dropping two menus against the dingy white tabletop. “It’s been a while. What brings you to this side of town? This is early. Even for you.”
“Dolores,” Hayes coos back, both of his hands landing on his heart. “Sounds like you missed me.”
“For making me wait so long to see that pretty face of yours, I should make you get your own damn coffee.”
“Now, now, Dolores. You wouldn’t dare. You know I’m terrible at it. What’s it going to take, huh? Whatever you want. It’s yours.”
My vision bounces back and forth between the two. Whatever it is, I’m so confused. This woman has to be at least old enough to be his mother, or older.
