28. Barnyard Revelations
twenty-eight
Violet
Cam's body relaxes underneath me, the sweat beaded at the crown of her head drying and her breaths slowing as she lets out a soft chuckle. 20 I slide the strap-on out of her, green for her favorite color, of course. Then, I unclip the harness, and toss it to the side.
"Damn," she murmurs, her eyes drifting shut as she focuses on her breathing. A smile creeps across my face, and I poke her soft, delicious thigh with my index finger.
"You're shaking again."
Cam's eyes shoot open, and she looks at her vibrating legs briefly before shooting me a scowl. I like that scowl. Even when Cam is irritated, which is often, she looks so damn cute. Her feathered brows press together, along with the soft downward tug of those pretty pink lips. And that little crease that forms on the bridge of her nose which I can't help but trace with my finger.
"If you didn't want them to shake, you shouldn't have fucked me the way that you did," she groans, pulling herself upward in the process. Her back presses against my headboard, and I can think of a few other things I'd like to see pressed against my headboard. A curious smirk tugs at the corners of my lips.
"Better than the real thing?" I tease. Cam's brows raise, and she tugs at the blanket, trying to pull it over her naked body. I frown, letting my weight sink further into it.
"Is that a concern of yours?" she asks, shooting me a cocky grin. I shoot her one right back.
"No." I shrug. "Because even if it isn't, nobody else's name sounds quite as pretty coming from that foul mouth of yours."
Cam's cheeks redden, and she rips the blanket out from under me, covering herself with it. I pout.
"Have you watched Shutter Island yet?" she asks.
Sometimes, when there's enough time in the appointment, Cam and I will watch a movie. Sometimes it leads to more sex, sometimes it leads to her teasing me about my preference.
I love rom-coms. You know. The Proposal. Clueless. No Hard Feelings. Cam on the other hand… she likes them grim. And by that, I mean really, truly fucked up.
"I haven't…" I say, dragging out the word. "Cam, respectfully, all of the movies you pick turn out to be so dark."
More accurately, I find the films harrowing, some of them gruesome, and overall, just depressing. But I don't want to hurt her feelings.
"Yeah... well..."
"I like them though!" I lie, like I haven't been traumatized watching her recommendations on my own. "Let's watch it."
"Are you sure? It's pretty, like you said, dark. It's not gory or anything, but..."
"Is it darker than The Human Centipede?"
The whites of Cam's eyes grow around her irises, her brows shooting up.
"Oh my god!" she gasps, pure horror illuminating her face. "Did you actually watch that? I said that as a joke!"
After her initial shock, she dissolves into a ball of laughter, clutching her ribs.
I feel betrayed.
"A JOKE?!?" I yell, the palm of my hand pressing to my sweating forehead. "I thought you were serious! I made myself watch, like, half of it the other night until I wondered why the fuck you would recommend it or even watch it in the first place!"
Cam's able to manage a few words between her giggles. "I-I thought you would know that was a joke. Who the hell watches The Human Centipede on purpose?"
"Well, apparently I do!"
My arms cross over my body, and I shoot her a traumatized glower.
"I'll tell you what," she says. "Because of that, we can watch a happy movie. Sound like a deal?"
Cam still has tears in her eyes from the laughter. They make her brown irises swirl like melting caramel and chocolate. I want to drown in them.
"Deal."
I am a sucker for unrealistic love stories, and a slut for cheesy happily-ever-afters. But with Cam's grim taste in media, I don't even want to suggest Ten Things I Hate About You, my favorite, or Never Been Kissed, ranking number two. I skim through the titles on the TV, looking for something different. Something funny and cheesy, but also cinematic and classic. Something that isn't Hallmark or in the Chick-Flick section on Netflix. I'm not ashamed of my preferences. I just want to find something Cam will enjoy too.
I see just the thing.
"In honor of Mr. Westley," I say, pretending the name doesn't tug at my heartstrings, "I choose The Princess Bride."
Cam smiles, pulling the blanket backwards so I can crawl underneath it with her. I slide between the sheets, her soft thighs rubbing against mine as I press play. I love the way her body feels against mine, maybe even more so like this than when we're having sex. She's warm and soft, and I could fall asleep with the weight of her body sinking into the mattress next to me.
"I would love to have a sword," she says, watching the fight play out between Inigo and Westley. I look at her with suspicion, sliding ever so slightly away from her in jest.
"You with a sword?" My eyes widen briefly. "No thanks."
Cam flips me off, then grabs my waist and pulls me back into her tightly.
A strange feeling settles in my stomach. Like nausea, but pleasant. Yet also not. It isn't twisting, and it isn't sinking. It's different, like a thousand feathers floating around inside, tickling the edges of my stomach, making my pulse quicken. I suck in a breath, forcing my muscles to relax into the touch.
Cam touches me all the time. I don't know why, but since that night in the shower, it feels different than before. I thought, at first, I was getting used to it. But the more I thought about it, the less sense that made. If I was getting used to it, wouldn't it have been the opposite? I would have felt this in the beginning, and it would slowly fade. But this feeling wasn't there in the beginning. It's new. It's feeling more and more unfamiliar each time her fingertips rest against my skin. It's a distinction I can't pinpoint, but never want to lose.
We both quote lines throughout the rest of the movie, and when Westley screams in pain, Cam grips my leg like she's anticipating whatever happens next, even though she already knows.
"I know Westley should've let Buttercup know he was alive sooner, but you can't deny the man has game," she says when the movie ends. "If I had that type of game, I'd be unstoppable."
I want to tell her she does have game, and I know because it worked on me. But I fight the urge.
"Yeah, you're kind of a quirky one, aren't you?" I tease. Cam gives me a falsely offended look.
"Fuck you." She laughs, shoving me.
I check the time on my phone. Usually, Cam is gone by now. That's how the schedule had been planned, at least. But we don't stick to that anymore. Cam decided we should do things based on how we feel and what we want, so long as it doesn't interfere with Criminal Dinner. And right now, I'm not ready for her to go.
I look up from the screen, thinking of an excuse, any excuse for her to stay.
"Do you like ice cream?" I ask. Cam looks at me, unimpressed.
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" she answers. I roll my eyes, and we walk down the street to Mountain Scoops Creamery.*
Beebo's mom owns the ice cream shop, and I have to say, she completely outdid herself. It's kind of retro, almost like a '50s diner, with a touch of Pacific Northwest in the mix.
The floor is tiled in a black-and-white checkered pattern, red vinyl booths lining the sides of the interior. Desaturated photos of nearby mountains and lakes are mounted on the teal walls, the names of the locations scrawled in pencil on the bottom. About a dozen flavors of ice cream sit in the freezer behind the counter, different colors and names popping out at me all at once.
"I don't know what to get," I whine, overwhelmed by all the different choices. The girl behind the counter smiles, holding tiny plastic spoons.
"You can try any flavor you'd like!" she says.
I smile and turn to Cam. "Which ones do you want to try?"
Cam shakes her head. "I don't need to try anything, I already know what I'm getting." She points to the Seattle Strawberry Swirl. "That one."
I laugh. "Don't you want to try the others just in case?"
But Cam's definitive answer doesn't shock me. She doesn't like trying new things, I've noticed. Maybe during sex, but even then, sometimes she can panic. I bought a different brand of shampoo for the salon because the kind she likes was out of stock, and she let me hear about the "terrible consistency" and "revolting scent" for two weeks.
"Nope."
It took me seven samples, but I finally decided on Cascade Crunch, an espresso-based ice cream with granola chunks.
We walk back home, the blanket from the couch wrapped around us, keeping us warm. Keeping me warm, at least, because Cam is still shivering.
"Too cold for the Ice Princess?" I joke, pushing my front door open. A wave of heat hits us, melting all the flakes stuck to our hair and lashes almost instantly.
"Is it Princess or Sparky?" she asks, cocking an eyebrow. "I never know with you."
21I set my empty ice cream up on the counter and turn to face her. I love when she's cocky like this, because it gives me an excuse to boss her around. And nothing compares to those flushed cheeks and desperate, dilated pupils she gets when I'm telling her what to do.
"That depends on how good you are."
I'm about to grab her and throw her over my shoulder, but before I can, she sinks to her knees, licking the crumbs of waffle cone off her thumbs.
"You want me to be good?" she asks, batting her eyes up at me innocently. Her fingers dance over the band of my sweatpants, a single finger tucking in between the cold skin and the elastic.
Oh fuck.
I nod.
"Yes," I say, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. Maybe I won't need to boss her around after all. A devious smile spreads across her face, and she tucks a second finger in my waistband, on the other side.
"Okay, boss," she says, her voice low and her eyes shining. "I'll be a good girl for you."
Cam pulls my sweatpants down slowly, following the trail with the tip of her tongue down the center of my leg until she reaches my ankle. She looks back up at me for approval, and my hands find the top of her head, running through her hair.
"Such a good fucking girl."
She stands slowly, still making eye contact with me. Then, she reaches for the hem of my sweatshirt, before pulling it over my head and taking my shirt with her. Her fingers, still cold from the ice cream and the outside air, trace my nipples, enticing a moan out of me.
"Fuck, baby," I groan quietly. Cam tilts her head to the side with a smile.
"Am I making you wet, boss?" she asks.
I nod. "So fucking wet."
Cam takes two fingers and curls them as she swipes between my slick center. Her eyes lock onto mine as she sucks them into her mouth, letting out a moan.
"You really are wet, aren't you?"
I swallow, nodding. God, I've never needed someone so badly in my life. But a smile creeps across Cam's face, and she lets out a loud giggle as she steps back, crossing her arms over her still-clothed body.
"That's too bad," she says, that taunting smirk on her face.
This fucking woman.I furrow my brows, stepping toward her.
"Cam," I say, firmly but pleadingly. "Come here."
Cam giggles, shaking her head. "Nope."
My jaw clenches tight as I swallow, my clit now pulsing with a needy ache.
"Cameron," I say again. "Don't underestimate me."
Cam bites her lower lip, eyeing me up and down. Then, she offers me a completely innocent shrug.
"Okay," I huff. "That's fine."
I march toward my bedroom door, Cam staring at my ass as I approach it. Her lips tug downward as she tilts her head.
"What are you doing?"
Now it's my turn to offer a completely "innocent" shrug.
"You changed your mind," I say. "But I didn't."
I step into my bedroom and close the door behind me, not locking it. Cam stands outside of the room, tapping on the door.
"Violet!" she calls out. "What does that mean?"
I slide into bed, reaching for the purple vibrator in my bedside table. My legs prop up, my back arching as the toy rubs against my clit, and I don't even try to hold back a moan.
"Violet!"
I rub it softly around my wet pussy. It isn't Cam, but it'll do.
"Violet, I'm coming in, and you better not—"
The door bursts open, Cam's eyes widening as her jaw goes slack. She stares at me, my legs spread wide, the purple vibrator gliding around my pussy with purpose. She frowns.
"That's not fair!"
She scrambles into the bed next to me, reaching for it.
"You can't just do that without me. You can't—" I pull my hand away, locking my eyes onto hers as I keep touching myself. She huffs.
"Okay, fine! I was fucking with you. But I changed my mind. Please—" She looks down between my dripping thighs, then back up at me desperately. "Please, let me do it?"
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, but I fight it down.
"You want to touch me?" I ask. "Make me come?"
Cam nods, then tugs her shirt over her head, her pink nipples hardening from the cold air. I look back into her eyes. "Then you should have thought about that before trying to tease me."
I push the vibrator inside of me, my back arching as I let out a loud moan. Cam's eyes pool with needy panic. She chews on her bottom lip as she watches the toy glide in and out of me, her fingers curling into a tight fist. Her chest begins to heave, and I smile as my head rolls back into the bedframe.
"Oh Cam…" I groan, shooting her an evil smile. Cam squirms on her knees next to me, her throat bobbing as she swallows. She lets out a groan.
"Violet." Her hand grabs my wrist gently, and my eyes flick up to hers. Her hair is a tangled mess, her cheeks flushed, her brows pressed together, pleading.
"God, you are such a desperate fucking mess, aren't you?" I mutter.
She nods. I look next to me at the fluffy white pillow near my head.
"How desperate are you, princess?"
She squirms. "So desperate."
I chuckle, pulling out the pillow, and setting it between us. Cam looks at me confused.
"Ride it," I say firmly.
Cam's jaw drops open.
"Violet, I said I was sorry. Please—"
I shake my head.
"If you want to watch me come, you have to give me a show."
Cam swallows, reluctantly sliding the pillow between her legs.
"Good girl," I mumble, watching as her eyes light up just a little. "But you need to take off the rest first."
Cam slides her sweatpants and underwear off slowly, the already soaked panties leaving a wet trail down her thighs. Then, she folds the pillow before placing it back between them. I click the vibrator, intensifying the speed as I rub it around my swollen clit, my eyes locked onto Cam. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, watching me, then slowly begins to roll her hips. I nod.
"Just like that," I rasp, watching her through my lashes. Cam's fingers sink into the pillow, her perfect pussy gliding across it needily. "Does that feel good, baby?"
She nods.
"But you wish it was me?"
She nods again.
"Now you know what happens when you test me like that, don't you?"
She bucks her hips, letting out a moan while her head tips back. Those pretty pink nipples are on display, and no matter how badly I want to suck them into my mouth, I want Cam to learn her lesson much more. I press the vibrator against my entrance, letting out a low moan as it sits there, hardly an inch inside. My gaze flicks to Cam, her chest heaving as she watches me with wide eyes. I cock an eyebrow at her, before sliding it all the way in.
"God, Cameron. Do you see what you make me do?" I groan, the vibration inside me traveling through my skin to my clit. My stomach tightens. "You could have been the one licking this pussy, or even better—"
I begin to thrust it in and out of me slowly, and Cam moans again.
"Fuck," she whimpers, humping the pillow faster.
"—I could have had my fingers inside of that perfect little pussy of yours."
"Fuck, Violet," she moans, speeding up. A crease forms on her brow, sweat slowly beading at the crown of her head as her lip shakes. I watch her intently, a wet streak forming along the mound of the pillow as Cam fucks it desperately. I pull the vibrator out of me and run it along my clit.
"Look at the wall," I command. Cam's chin tilts up, looking directly into the full-length mirror mounted next to my closet door. She whimpers. "Do you see what a mess you are, fucking that pillow like that?"
She nods, a tiny moan leaving her mouth that I don't think she meant to let escape. A heavy sigh slips through my lips, my stomach tightening as the pressure inside me builds.
"I'm getting close," I warn. Cam thrusts against the pillow harder, lustful tears filling her eyes. "Are you going to do it, or do I have to do it myself?"
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't stop riding the wet white pillow.
"Can I?" she asks with a pleading gaze. My hand slides over to her, the vibrator gripped in my palm rubbing roughly against her swollen clit. She gasps.
"Come here."
She obeys, sliding her body between my legs before lowering her face. I shake my head.
"Turn around. I want to see that perfect ass of yours."
Cam hesitates, but turns around slowly, her supple round ass on display just for me.
Fuck, she's perfect.
I buck my hips, dragging my swollen clit along it just once. Then, I grip her waist and pull her on top of me, so her pussy is lined up with my mouth.
"God, baby. The pillow was that good?" I ask, sliding a finger up her center. My finger returns, slick and shiny from her mess.
Cam whines.
"You have to earn this one," I say.
She doesn't hesitate any longer. Her mouth presses against my aching clit, her tongue dancing circles around it. My body jolts from the contact, my back arching as I let out a moan. She scoots back, pushing that perfect pink pussy into my mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, pulling her in tight while I press my own tongue into her.
"Oh fuck," she whimpers, and I take it as my cue to keep going. Cam takes me apart quickly, her fingers moving fast but her tongue moving faster. My fingers dig into her soft luscious thighs as she rocks her heat into me, my tongue pushing in and out of her firmly. My thumb dances over her clit in tight wet circles.
"Shit," I mumble, bucking my hips. The pressure inside of me builds, Cam's thighs shaking within my grasp. God, she feels heavenly.
"Violet, I have to—"
"I know, baby. Me too."
She lets out a high-pitched moan, when my thumb hits her clit for one last time. Her hips rock, my tongue curling inside of her, and my own hips thrust into her. Moans force their way out of me, some of her name, some of curse words, some of nothing but pure bliss and pleasure. My body tenses against the friction, and just as I'm about to unravel, my mouth fills with sweet, warm liquid, and Cam lets out a moan that is closer to a squeal.
Holy fuck.
She collapses onto me, my own orgasm forcing its way out just from the sheer arousal of Cam coming inside of my mouth. I swallow, letting my tongue travel along my lower lip and she rolls onto the bed on her back.
Her cheeks are dark red, and her hands are covering her face, embarrassed. I sit up, wiping the sides of my mouth with a smile.
"Fuck, Cam," I groan. "Has that ever happened before?"
She shakes her head, still hiding her face. I grab her wrist, pulling her hand down to look at her earnestly.
"Cam, you are fucking perfect."*
"Will he ever stop growing?" I lean against the paint-chipped barn door, muddy snow caked on my brand-new boots. Major's sprawled out on his back in front of Hayden and I, wriggling in the cold sludge. Our regular meetup was moved to Ayers' Acres, the farm Hayden's parents own because, and I quote, "farming never stops and the cows don't give a flying fuck how cold it is."
"I think he might have been mixed with giraffe," Hayden answers with a gleaming grin. He shovels a mound of dirty snow-covered hay onto the pitchfork gripped in his hands and tosses it into the pile beside me. "How's Reese doing?"
My stomach tenses for a second, flashbacks from that night racing through my mind. Reese is totally fine. He's great, actually, almost healed entirely. I, on the other hand, can't bear the thought of him ever interacting with another dog again. Sure, he sees Dawson pretty often, but like his mother, Dawson's predictable. I don't have to worry about what damage he might cause.
"He's good. He got his stitches out on Friday."
"That's great!" Hayden smiles, leaning the pitchfork against the barn. "I'm sure it's a bit easier, seeing as Cam went through the same thing."
"What?" My head snaps up, a valley forming between my knitted brows. Hayden furrows his own brows, his eyes pooling with bewilderment.
"Yeah. Cody's dog went after Dawson once. It wasn't as bad as Reese's attack, though. All his injuries were superficial. She didn't tell you?"
I shake my head, still stunned. Why wouldn't Cam tell me this? Why is she always protecting Cody?
"Well," I say, buying time to make up an excuse that sounds valid but feels inaccurate. "It was kind of an unforeseen circumstance, so maybe she forgot."
Hayden shoots me an unconvinced glance, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips.
"What?" I frown. He shakes his head.
"Well,you know Cam," he says, crossing his arms. "She doesn't ‘forget' anything."
I look down, gently kicking at the snow underneath me. "Yeah, but I don't know her, know her. Not like you. It's all contract for us. With you, it was natural."
A short, loud laugh bursts out of Hayden, and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth.
"Sorry," he murmurs, shaking with mirth. I roll my eyes.
"Now what, cowboy?" I ask, trying my hardest to shoot him a Cam-like scowl. He shakes his head.
"Nothing."
I glower, my newfound power thanks to the Ice Princess herself. Hayden breaks.
"Well firstly," he says, adjusting the cowboy hat on his head, which is pointless given the twenty-three-degree overcast weather. "Nobody knows Cam like I do. Secondly, that contract bullshit might work on Cam, but it doesn't on me."
My stomach twists, the pure coldness of the air around me suddenly flooding my body.
22"What do you mean?"
Hayden cocks a brow, until he realizes I'm genuinely serious. I have no idea what he's talking about.
"Violet," he says, patting my shoulder almost condescendingly, "You do realize that you and Cam are essentially dating, right?"
My stomach flips, an unbridled laugh slipping through my lips.
"What? No we aren't. That's like—"
Hayden promptly puts his hand up.
"Sorry," he says, lifting up the brim of his hat so he can look me in the eye. "But whatever you're about to say is bullshit. You spend seventy percent of your time together, and when you're apart, you talk about each other non-stop. You can say it's ‘just sex' all you want, but people who are just hooking up for fun don't memorize each other's favorite colors or show up on each other's doorsteps in the middle of crises."
I open my mouth to speak, but he just continues.
"You're like, totally in love with Cam."
Heat rushes to my cheeks, stinging against the cold sensation of the crisp winter air. I scoff, shaking my head.
"I'm not in love with Cam," I say defensively, crossing my arms over my chest like that will make it true. It's not like I haven't thought about it. I like being around Cam, even though she makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes. I like the way she laughs and how candid she always is. How that dimple stays hidden until I've truly earned it, and how, sometimes, it's as if she can read my mind. Whether or not that has anything to do with "love" doesn't matter, because all of it violates one of the only rules left in that stupid contract.
Hayden doesn't pay my declaration any attention.
"And I think," he continues, staring out into the vast fields in front of us. "I think she likes you too."
"What?!" I don't mean to shout, it just kind of forces its way out of me. Hayden is completely delusional if he thinks Cam has any sort of feelings for me past lustful annoyance, which is a lot better than where we were in the beginning. It would be out of character for him to be playing some strange joke on me to get me to admit to my feelings for her, but that's the only reason I can think of that he'd say something so preposterous. "Do you even hear yourself?"
His shimmering blue eyes meet mine, not even the slightest hint of deception mixed in his expression.
"Do you?" he shoots back with a soft smile. I scoff loudly.
"Did she say that? That she has feelings for me?"
I analyze Hayden's expression, waiting for defeat to take over, but it never does. In fact, he only grows more assertive.
"She doesn't have to," he says confidently. "I just know."
"You just… know?" I ask, unconvinced. Hayden looks back to fields in front of us, the rolling hills shaded by the thick clouds above. A steady stream of air hisses through his lips, like a long, controlled sigh. He stares out for a minute, his throat bobbing as he swallows. I can see his cheeks sucking in as he chews on them, and my stomach twists in discomfort.
"I'm going to say something," he says finally. His voice is quiet but strong, and he keeps looking into the distance. "And you're not going to freak out."
I furrow my brows, but he doesn't glance in my direction. Hayden's been there for me through my divorce, through the contract, all of it. The least I can do is give him this.
"Okay," I say. "I won't."
I look up at him, his body towering over me, his aura sinking beneath the earth. He sighs.
"Violet, I've loved Cam for like, forever. I know her. So when I say she has feelings for you, I mean it. She didn't say anything to me, and she won't. Not for a while, but it's obvious. And I know you don't want me to, but I know you too." He pauses, then glances at me, shooting me a convincing, genuine smile. "And you two? Well, you might as well get down on one knee right now."
My heart pounds rapidly against the inside of my chest, my stomach tightening and sinking in one swift motion.
"She doesn't know it yet, how she feels," he says, trying to steer away from the giant-ass elephant he just put in the space between us. "But I think you do."
I shake my head, unsatisfied. If I've been standing in the way of these two this entire time, I'm going to be sick.
"Hayden, I didn't know you two—"
"We're not," he interjects, his chin jolting up quickly. "We never were. I asked her out once, but Cam has never felt that way about me. And that's okay. It isn't a thing. But you?" A soft laugh slips through his lips, his perfect white smile glimmering. "She's head over heels for you. She just hasn't figured it out."
My stomach crawls into my throat.
"Have you..." I swallow, a dry lump forming. "I mean… does she know?"
Hayden shakes his head.
"No," he says plainly. Not sadly, not painfully. Just a regular old "no."
"Then how do you know?" I ask, knowing that I'm more so asking this question for myself than for him. "I mean, if you haven't told her then—"
"Violet," he says, grabbing my hand. His eyes lock onto mine, and I have never seen Hayden more serious in my life. "I know. Trust me, okay?"
I nod, recognizing the desperation in his plea. I see it now, all of it. The way he talks about her, how he glowed at the bowling alley when their fingers were intertwined. I don't know how something so obvious could also be so hidden.
"I just know too then," I say with completely fake confidence. Hayden cocks a brow.
"You just know what?"
"That Cam doesn't feel that way about me either."
Hayden chuckles, shaking his head. "False."
A frown creeps over my face. "True."
He grabs my hand again and squeezes it, a gesture that gives me no choice but to look into his eyes.
"Violet, you believe in crystals," he says flatly. A crease forms on my brow as I stare at him.
"Well, yeah. So?"
"You believe in divine intervention, and that everything happens for a reason."
I cross my arms, tapping my finger on my bicep, feeling slightly attacked by this whole interaction.
"And?"
He sighs, louder than he needs to for dramatic effect. As if, like his feelings, the answer is hidden in plain sight.
"You believe in everything except your ability to be loved."
My stomach sinks, a dry lump forming in my throat. The inside of my cheek grows raw as I chew it furiously, my nose tingling, but I don't think it's from the cold air. His large hand presses against my shoulder, squeezing softly.
"She doesn't love me, not like that," he says. "But you, she's fond of."
The tingling sensation begins to spread over my cheeks now, a glossy coat forming over my eyes. I stare briefly, forcing them to dry before clearing my throat.
"Hayden, I had no idea you felt that way about her," I say, pinching the corners of my eyes. "I feel like such an asshole."
I really, really don't feel good. Hayden squeezes my shoulder again, and I glance up at him, a wide smile sewn into his face.
"I knew it!" he sings happily. My brows weave together in confusion.
"What?"
"I knew you loved her!" he says excitedly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't feel like an asshole."
"I don't—"
Hayden clicks his tongue, shaking his head.
"Uh-uh. I did not confess my love for her to you just to have you deny your feelings. I want to know everything."
I shake my head.
"If you're so in love with her, why would you want to hear me talk about it?" I ask. Maybe Hayden doesn't actually know what he's asking for.
"Violet," he says, leaning in closely. His eyes are meaningful, locked onto mine like we're both holding the same secret. "You think that is the hardest pill I've had to swallow?" He chuckles, a soft parenthesis forming on the sides of his lips. "My heart is physically broken. I was born into the wrong body and lived in it for years. So, seeing my best friend receive the love she deserves wouldn't exactly be a hardship for me."
Heat fills my cheeks every time he says the word "love," and I want to correct him, to say that I don't love Cam, I only just learned I liked her. But Hayden isn't finished, and I can tell by the look in his eye that he needs me to hear this.
"The only hardship comes when you decide not to love her anymore. When her anxiety becomes a chore, and her depression consumes her, and she refuses to breathe fucking air if it isn't purified first. And if that happens, if you go through with it and then later decide she is too much for you, I'll be there to pick up every single piece. I will help put her back together, knowing she'll find someone new. But please, Violet, I'm begging you." His eyes lock onto mine. "Please don't make me."
Hayden's eyes glow under the dull barn lights, a glossy coat formed over them from unfallen tears. My head tilts, leaning against his bicep, and I squeeze his hand just as he had squeezed mine.
"I won't, Hayden," I say softly, feeling every word of it in my chest. "I promise."*