Chapter 8

chapter

eight

Hayden

When we arrive at her apartment, Mills knocks on the door opposite hers on the landing at the top of the stairs.

That Peter guy opens the door, Monster nestled in his arm like a football. The little dog instantly perks up when he sees Mills and practically jumps into her arms.

She thanks him and offers to pay him, but he politely declines.

"It's my pleasure," Peter says, his glance going from her to me. Am I paranoid, or do I detect something prickly in his energy aimed at me?

Behind the closed door of her apartment, I mutter, "I do not like that guy."

Mills laughs. "Peter's great. He always looks after Monster for me, no questions asked."

I scoff as I kick off my shoes. "He asks no questions because he wants to get into your pants."

Mills sets down the dog, who trots over to his water dish.

"Ugh, don't be gross, Hayden," Mills says, padding into the kitchen.

I follow her. "Mark my words. This is why he doesn't want payment."

She opens the fridge and opens two hard seltzers. "You're just saying that because Peter's a man, and too many men think that men and women can never just be friends because one of them will always want to bang the other one."

She hands me one of the seltzers and I say, "Looks like you've got me all figured out, Dimples."

"Maybe he's just a nice person who doesn't want anything in return."

We study each other as we drink our drinks on opposite ends of this tiny galley kitchen. "This is why I pay people. Everyone wants something and if I pay them well enough, they don't come after me."

"Trust issues much?"

"Definitely."

"Why?"

"It's a long story," I say.

Mills moves into the living room and sits on the sofa, patting the cushion beside her.

"I've got all night."

"When my dad left, I was nine years old. He promised I could visit him that summer in Montana and we would go fishing and tubing at his new place by a river in the mountains. He moved on and remarried and had a whole new family. I called him and asked when I could come, but he said it wasn't a good time. The same thing happened the following summer, and the next one. And the next. Eventually I gave up. So I decided from then on that I would be nothing if not honest. If I want to see someone, I say it. If I say it, I follow through. I don't play games or string people along. I didn't want to grow up to be like my dad."

Mills listens with the face of someone who is clear eyed and hanging on every word. In this moment right here, I think I could be in love with her already.

"You're not like him at all. I've never met someone as straightforward as you."

"Thank you."

"I'm proud to know you," she says.

Mills sits cross-legged on the sofa. I reach out and grasp one of her feet, drawing it into my lap.

"So why don't you tell me about you?"

She laughs. "You heard my stand-up. That's the whole story right there."

"I heard the part about your alcoholic stepmom."

She wiggles her toes as I knead into the sole of her foot. "I noticed you were the only one not laughing."

"Because all I could see is your pain, Mills."

"Hey, the best comedy comes from trauma, didn't you know?"

The light reflects in the tears welling in her eyes. "I didn't say that to make you cry."

Her voice is thick and she wags her hands in front of her face as if to ward off tears. "This wasn't supposed to get so deep tonight," she says with a watery laugh.

"Stella insists that we make it official so she can go on double dates with us. If you're gonna be my girlfriend, I need to know the real you," I explain.

A single tear drips down her cheek. I lean forward and wipe it away.

"I don't want to talk about any of that right now," she says. "It's easier to make jokes about it."

I kiss her cheek. "Then I'll come to all your shows and learn everything there is to know about you."

"I would love that. You might get bored."

"Not possible."

I pull her onto my lap, and we're kissing again, her arms draped around my shoulders and my hands flirting with the edge of her sweater.

"I've been thinking about this all day," I murmur against her mouth.

"Hayden," she whispers. "Promise you're not going to murder me." The last few words come out as a soft laugh.

"That would be a terrible plan for the woman I plan to marry."

"Don't say shit like that just to turn me on."

Her nipples are hard against my chest as she grinds down on my cock. A moan escapes my throat, and I suck in a bit of flesh. I have to mark her as mine so everyone knows she belongs to me.

I let my hands ruck up her sweater, immediately going to the strap of her bra.

Mills pulls back long enough to rid herself of her sweater and her bra.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare in awe.

After some time, Mills breaks this spell.

"Are you still with me, Hayden McAllister?"

I don't answer with words, only with my mouth covering one nipple and giving it a long pull, kneading it with my tongue until it's a taut little pebble. She's so soft and sweet and all for me.