12. Ian

Chapter 12

Ian

H azel bit her lip as she contemplated it. I watched as her tooth sunk into the shine of her lip gloss and my mind produced a plethora of images that I had no business thinking of. I decided to focus on the empty cup in front of me but before long my eyes were back on her lips.

Thankfully, she spoke again which finally helped me snap out of it. “All right. Let’s go then.”

We walked out of the bakery together after bidding a quick goodbye to Stacey. “You made it through the morning after all. I really did expect her to chew your head off,” she joked. “I know I promised you chocolate cake but I’m super busy right now. I owe you!” She darted back into the kitchen.

Once outside, I walked straight to my car and opened the passenger door for Hazel. “We should take my car.”

“Why? You don’t even know the way,” she argued, folding her arms.

“Just let me drive you.”

We stared at each other for a long time before Hazel finally got into the car. I didn’t expect her to comply. I was certain she would rather walk the entire way than share a car with me. I closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat. Hazel was adjusting her seat belt when I got in. I reached over to help her, but she held up her hand.

“I can do it.”

I laughed. Even though she agreed to take my car she was still the same Hazel. The one who never wanted help from anyone and always wanted to handle her problems on her own. She was a lot like my sister in that regard. Maybe that was why they made such good friends.

The scent of vanilla hit me unexpectedly. In the enclosed space of the car, I started to feel even more unusual things. I was reminded of the moment I had with Hazel in the supply closet. Her vanilla scent had also hit me like a train then, making me question everything I've always known about myself. I was not attracted to Hazel Jones.

I couldn’t be.

I repeated that thought as I pulled out of the driveway. I did my best to push all thoughts of Hazel out of my mind but it was a difficult task when the woman sat right beside me. I kept thinking about the supply closet and everything that happened between us. That was the moment I started feeling strangely towards her.

From the moment I had her pressed up against that wall, I haven't been able to think straight. I kept picturing her lips and reliving the moment when they came in contact with my arm. I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to taste them.

I brought the car to a halt at a red light. When I turned to Hazel her eyes were already on me. I was almost certain we were thinking about the same thing. Both of us had been transported back to that supply closet. I released a labored breath as I stared at her lips. I felt consumed by thoughts of kissing her. They were so powerful that I couldn’t look anywhere else but at her.

Hazel gulped, and I lifted my gaze again. Our eyes collided and my breathing intensified. I didn’t understand what was going on and a part of me didn’t want to understand. All that mattered was what I was feeling in that moment, what we were both feeling.

The blaring of a car horn sounded behind us, jolting us out of whatever force was holding both of us in place. I looked forward, and I saw the traffic light had changed from red to green. I was so focused on Hazel that I hadn't noticed when that happened.

How was this possible? Since when did I get distracted by Hazel?

I looked at her again, but she didn’t meet my gaze. What happened clearly shocked her just as much as it shocked me. We didn’t get a chance to talk about it because the car behind us blared its horn again. I shifted the gear stick into drive and took off. I spent the rest of the drive to the hotel looking straight ahead. Thankfully I knew where the hotel was, so I didn’t need to ask Hazel for directions. Things were awkward enough already.

I parked my car in the driveway. Hazel and I stepped out at the same time, as if we were both in a hurry to get out of there. We avoided eye contact as we made our way into the hotel. The man at the front desk straightened the moment he heard us enter. I took a moment to gaze around the room, admiring the hotel’s modern design, the lovely artwork in the lobby, and the pristine marble tiles beneath us. When I looked at the hotel receptionist again, his eyes were wider than earlier.

“Ian Carter?” he asked excitedly, his eyes widening even further. I didn’t even know that was possible. “You’re Ian Carter!”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh my gosh! This is so… This is so unbelievable. The Ian Carter is here, in the hotel where I work. Ian Carter is here! This is awesome. I’m your biggest fan.”

“Thank you,” I said with a forced smile.

“I know this is totally inappropriate, but could I get your autograph?” he asked.

“Sure. On a piece of paper or…”

“On my knee pads.”

“Your knee pads?” Hazel asked incredulously. It was the first time she’d spoken since she told me she could fasten her seat belt by herself.

“Yeah. I have them right here.” He reached under the table and brought out a pair of light blue knee pads and a marker. “Just make that to Kevin.”

I was tempted to ask if he just kept those around in case some famous athlete swung by here but I chose not to. Hazel stared at the knee pads in shock. I almost laughed at the look of utter bewilderment on her face. Kevin’s knee pads didn’t faze me much. I’d been asked to sign much stranger things over the years so this was nothing.

I picked up the marker and scribbled my signature onto each knee pad. Kevin picked them up and raised them to the sky like they were a gift from God. “Thank you,” he said, and I could actually hear a shake in his voice.

Hazel scoffed under her breath and when I turned to look at her, she rolled her eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh a little, but I did my best not to let Kevin hear it. When I looked at him again, I put on a solemn face and leaned slightly across the counter.

“There’s actually a favor I need to ask of you, Kevin.”

He held the knee pads close to his chest as he said, “anything.”

“A woman went missing from this hotel about a week ago. Her name was Emily.”

“Yes, I know. It’s such a tragic story.”

“It really is,” I agreed.

“I read that she was also a huge fan of yours.”

“She is.” I made sure to use the present tense when I spoke about Emily. Her body hadn't been found yet so she could still be alive. That was the hope I was clinging to right now. “I’m trying to find her and it would really help if I could take a look at the room she stayed in before she went missing.”

“I understand.”

“So what do you say? Can I check out the room?”

“Of course, Mr. Carter. Here’s the key.” Kevin handed the room key to me with a smile. “It’s room one-oh-two. Second floor, third door on your right.”

“Thank you, Kevin. You’re a lifesaver. Really.”

“I’m happy to help.”

I took the key and walked to the elevator with Hazel behind me. Once the door slid closed, the ranting began.

“Happy to help? Happy to help? More like happy to help Ian Carter. I’ve been here several times to ask if I could see Emily’s room and guess who told me no all those times?” She continued when I didn’t answer. “None other than Kevin, Ian Carter’s biggest fan. I cannot believe he only let us in because you’re here. So what I was doing didn’t matter because you weren't with me? How dare he say he’s happy to help when he had every opportunity to do that earlier and he didn’t?”

“Maybe we should just be grateful we get to see the room.” I tried to calm her down but I might as well not have spoken.

Hazel’s rant went on for the duration of our elevator ride and after. “You know this is the problem with the world, right? No one really wants to help anyone. He only helped because you’re famous and because you signed his damn knee pads. Who the hell asks someone to sign their knee pads, anyway? That’s absurd! Why did the guy knee pads with him at work to begin with? Who does that?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that isn't the most absurd thing someone has asked me to sign?”

That question was enough to get Hazel to stop talking for a moment. We were walking down the hallway of the second floor and she paused right outside room one-oh-two. “What’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever signed?” she asked.

“Someone once asked me to sign their underwear.”

Hazel's eyes widened, and she stared at me for a long time. She was so frozen in shock that I wondered if she was breathing. And then, to my absolute surprise, she started laughing. It was long and drawn out and poured out of her as if it had been trapped inside her for a while. She placed a hand on her mouth to stop but the laughter bubbled out of her with more force.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s true.”

She continued to laugh, the sound becoming so loud I was worried one of the hotel’s guests would file a complaint or something. “Did you do it?”

I waited before I gave her an answer, savoring the look of amusement and anticipation on her face. Her eyes were bright with moisture and a wide smile played on her lips. “I always give my fans what they want.”

Hazel laughed again. This time she was loud enough to attract attention. One of the doors beside us opened and an angry guest stepped out. The old man glared at us with bush brows pulled to the center above his nose. Somehow the sight of him made Hazel laugh even more.

“Sorry about her,” I said as I unlocked the door and pulled Hazel into the hotel room.

I watched as she continued to laugh, and I realized I loved to be the one making her laugh. It left an oddly nice feeling in my chest to know I was the one who made her laugh like this, every inhibition long forgotten leaving only pure joy behind.

She was beautiful when she laughed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Her curly hair bounced around her as she laughed and I found myself tempted to run my fingers through her curls, tempted to test their softness.

Hazel stared at me as her laughter died down. A smile still graced her lips and her chest heaved rapidly with each breath she took. She looked so perfectly happy, more so than I’d ever seen her. I felt a deep need within me to always give her that feeling. It was as if I wanted to devote myself to making her happy.

Why on earth would you do that? A voice in my head asked.

I realized I didn’t have the answer to that question or to the other questions that were plaguing me lately.

Why was I feeling this way towards Hazel? What did it mean? And how would it affect our relationship going forward?