When It Hits You (The It Series Book 1)

by Nicki Elson

  “Want to grab a drink in the terminal to toast this last trip?”

  She turned back to him. “I would, but I’ve got to get my notes typed up on today’s meetings so I can spend all day tomorrow refreshing myself on my old clients.”

  “I guess an airport bar is kind of a pathetic place for a celebration anyhow. We should do something better. Dinner. You have plans Friday night?”

  “Nope.”

  “Great. Trust me to pick the place?”

  “Always. You haven’t failed me yet.”

  “Okay, let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you on the when and where.”

  The plane made a smooth landing, and the pilot stood outside the door of the cockpit as the passengers exited. He was youngish with an engaging smile and sparkling eyes. Lyssa typically walked past with a mere nod of gratitude, but this time she slowed her step and thanked him. “You made great time.”

  “I aim to please,” he said, holding out his hand. Lyssa reached to shake it, but she was bumped from behind and lunged forward, away from the pilot. She half turned to see Hayden shake the pilot’s outstretched hand before rushing her along to the jet bridge.

  “Um, excuse you,” Lyssa said when he pulled alongside her on the ramp. “What was that about?”

  “What?”

  “You bumping into me when I was making eyes with the cute pilot.”

  “Were you? And was he? Sorry, I must’ve hit you with my bag. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No. But he could’ve been my future sperm donor. Now we’ll never know.”

  On Friday afternoon, Lyssa got a text inviting her to dine at Chez Hayden. He also asked if she’d like to stay to watch a movie after. He hinted at a theme to the evening.

  She arrived at his apartment to find him chopping vegetables in his small kitchen. “So what’s this mysterious theme?” she asked.

  “Go look by the TV.”

  She set the wine she’d brought on the table and walked over, seeing a case for a movie. “Karate Kid,” she read aloud and laughed.

  “It’s about time we filled that heinous gap in your pop-cultural background. I’m making Japanese stir fry to go with it.”

  She wandered into the kitchen and offered to help, so he asked her to finish chopping the vegetables while he heated oil in the wok and brought out the beef he’d already sliced and marinated. He also produced a small tray of sushi for them to munch on while they worked. After pouring them each a glass of Malbec, Lyssa set to work, finding that the easy rhythm of their teamwork in the field transitioned into the kitchen. They concocted the meal like an elegant dance, talking and laughing all the way through. By the time they filled their plates with the steaming beef and vegetables and brought them to the glass-top dining table, the conversation had turned to family.

  “Being an only child of a divorced couple puts a lot of pressure on a kid,” Hayden said. “They’re in a constant competition for my affections, but at the same time, I’ve always had this thing at the back of my mind telling me I’d better not mess up; I’d better keep doing things to impress them or they might drop me the way they dropped the marriage. A psychotherapist I once dated helped me figure out that last bit.”

  Lyssa nodded. “So that’s why you’re such an overachiever.”

  “Probably. What’s your story? In what way did your parents screw up to make you the woman you are today?”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t ever thought about it.” She bit into a warm slice of savory beef, nearly purring as its juices ran over her tongue.

  “Glad you approve.” Hayden smiled. “Now let’s figure out this family thing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s fun. Tell me in one word how you feel when you’re with them. Don’t overthink it, first word that comes to mind.”

  “Invisible.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “Well, because I’m the biggest nothing in my family. The fact that they all moved away from me without a backward glance proves that. My sister is the power-homemaker slash grandchildren-provider, and Doug’s the only boy and has an impressive law career that my parents can brag about. I’m just Lyssa. I’m expected to fade into the background and not cause any problems.”

  “Just Lyssa is a pretty great thing to be.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t do that. I’m not in need of ego boosting; my self-esteem is fine. Feeling invisible around my family means I get my validation in other ways. Like with these vegetables, for example.” She lifted an oil-seared, snappy red pepper on the tips of her tines. “Have you ever seen such an exquisitely cut vegetable?”

  “Aha,” Hayden said, taking a sip of wine and examining her over the glass’s rim.

  “There’s no aha. Admiring a masterful cut is all that’s going on here.”

  “Diverting attention with humor is what’s going on here. You’re not comfortable with a spotlight shining on you. You like being in the background.”

  She shrugged. “I’m used to it. Not to mention, I’m really good at it, so can we please play to my strengths here and talk about something besides me?”

  “After I say this—you’re a smart, capable woman. Your self-esteem might be fine, but it could be better. I see how you hold yourself back by clinging to the shadows. Project Pineapple was supposed to be a boost for your career, for all of ours, and what are you doing? Settling back into the comfort zone of your old client load. You should be demanding top tier clients, Bates.”

  “But I’m fine with how things are. It’s all good.”

  “There’s fine again. You ought to aim higher for yourself than that.”

  “I’m not like you, Hayden. I don’t see anything wrong with fine. Were you lying when you said ‘just Lyssa is a great thing to be?’ ’Cause it sure seems like you want to make an improvement project out of me.”

  He was lifting his chopsticks toward his mouth, but instead of biting into the food caught between them, he tapped the sticks back onto his plate. “I’m sorry. That’s not how I meant it. I do think you’re great as you are, but I don’t want you to sell yourself short.”

  “I appreciate that, really. I promise to be all that I can be. Will ya get off my case now?”

  “You mean remove the spotlight?”

  “Whatever you want to call it. How ’bout those Bears, eh?”

  “Football season ended weeks ago.”

  “Oh. How did the Bears do?”

  “Not great.” Hayden let the conversation turn to less personal areas for the rest of dinner. When they finished, they cleared the dishes and cracked open a second bottle of wine for the movie.

  As they settled onto the sofa, Lyssa said, “Seems like years ago that I slept here, doesn’t it?”

  “The night before our first official presentation to DH. Hey, we haven’t toasted yet.” They raised their glasses. “To a job well done and a friendship well formed.”

  “And to bar bitches, evasive farmers, and unauthorized luau kisses survived,” Lyssa added.

  They clinked, sipped, and then started the movie. After sniggering over the eighties fashions, Lyssa became fully engaged in bullied Daniel LaRusso’s plight.

  “Timeless, isn’t it?” Hayden murmured.

  “Hai, sensei.”

  A bit further into the film, Lyssa sat forward to stretch her back and rub the crick in her neck.

  “You okay?” Hayden asked. “Is the couch uncomfortable?”

  “Couch is great. Sometimes I get like this a few days after a flight.”

  “Come here.” He patted the cushion next to him, and she slid over so he could mold his palm and fingers to the base of her neck and start kneading. “Here?”

  “Up a smidge and…oh, yeah, that’s it.” His fingers worked at her tense muscle, loosening it, and then climbed up the back of her neck. She moaned. “Do you have to be amazing at everything you do?”

  “Are you complaining?” His fingers stilled.

  “Hell no. And
don’t stop!”

  He let out a low chuckle and began massaging again, giving a slight nod toward the TV. “This is a classic scene.”

  They quieted to watch, and eventually, his rubbing tapered off. Lyssa wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened, but she found herself reclining against his chest with his arm slung over her shoulder, his fingertips absently playing with the ends of her hair. Once conscious of their intimate position, she considered repositioning, but she’d grown drowsy with the wine and had no inclination to move away from Hayden’s warmth.

  They got to the final scene with a badly beaten Danielson on the wrestling mat and his coach, Mr. Miyagi, entreating him to not give in to fear. When the Karate Kid took the bully down, Lyssa’s eyes misted. When he held up his instructor’s hand along with his own, the tears spilled out, right onto Hayden’s shirt, making darkened splotches on the cotton weave.

  “Sorry.” She wiped at his stomach, as if that would do any good.

  “It’s okay.” She heard the emotion in his voice and propped her hand on his abs, lifting herself slightly away so she could look at him. His eyes shined, and a thin line of wetness trailed down his face. He met her gaze, confidently owning his tears.

  She stayed wrapped in him a moment longer than she should have—long enough for the memory of their kiss in Texas to flit through her mind. He hadn’t had a beard then, and she wondered how his whiskers would feel brushing against her face.

  “I should go.” She started to push away but stopped when he touched his fingertips to her forearm. Her hand still pressed into stomach, which felt too much like the abs of a chiseled god. In the background, the ending credits rolled as “Listen to Your Heart” wailed along with them.

  “You can stay,” he said softly.

  “I don’t think my neck would appreciate a night on the couch.” Despite her quiet words, should couldn’t make herself move. Her wide eyes remained locked on his as her heartbeat thumped inside her throat.

  “Doesn’t have to be on the couch.” He tickled his fingers up to her elbow and tilted his head slightly forward, drawing her further into the stormy blue sea of his gaze. “You’re familiar with the term friends with benefits?”

  Swallowing a cold breath, Lyssa yanked herself out of his trance, pushing all the way away of him. “Are you familiar with the term not a chance in hell?”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, Hayden, so many reasons. The best one being that I’ve seen these things in action, and they rarely end well.”

  With a rough sigh, he let the back of his head fall to rest on the ridge of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “You’re probably right.” He arched his face all the way forward until it was aimed at his crotch. “Down boy.”

  When he stood and stretched, Lyssa felt a prickle of disappointment that he’d recovered so quickly. But she knew stopping things right there was best for both of them.

  “Let’s take a cab,” he said.

  “Let’sss as in usss?”

  “Yesss.”

  “I told you there’ll be no benefits.”

  “I’m just making sure you get home safe.”

  “I’ve been getting home safe without you for many, many years.”

  “At least let me call you a car so you’ll get door-to-door service, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “There’s that word again.”

  “Don’t start.”

  He called the car and walked her downstairs to it. Opening the passenger door, he handed the driver a bill, saying, “That should cover it.”

  “Hayden! You don’t have to pay.”

  “Hush. I already did.” He was separated from Lyssa by the open back door as he held it open for her. While she slid in, he stood silent, studying her with a small smile playing on his lips.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, just…I was an idiot to have never noticed you before.”

  Back home and in her jammies, Lyssa instinctively reached for Vibrizzio. But a funny thing happened on the device’s way to her bed—she decided she didn’t feel like escaping into her imagination. She preferred to fall asleep with the memory of her perfect evening with Hayden warming her mind. For once, reality trumped fantasy.

  Chapter 18

  “YOU GUYS ARE TOTALLY DATING,” Trish said to Lyssa the next afternoon as they walked the treadmill side-by-side. Lyssa had told just finished telling her about the dinner at Hayden’s.

  “Which part of friends did you miss?”

  “Most of the early seasons, but I saw Monica and Chandler get married and Rachel go out with both Ross and Joey.”

  “Sorry that my life isn’t as exciting as a TV show.”

  “It could be.”

  “You and I have sushi and watch movies together all the time, and we’re not dating.” Of course, she and Trish had never snuggled while doing it, but that didn’t seem like an important fact to point out. “Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean he and I can’t be just friends.”

  “And just because you don’t have to insert batteries into him doesn’t mean you can’t be more. It was a date.”

  “Not.”

  “Too.”

  “A date would’ve ended with a kiss and that didn’t happen.”

  “Did you want it to?”

  “No.” By the end of the not-date, she’d been technically past that urge.

  “Well, how did it end? What was the last thing he said to you?”

  Lyssa forgot to take a step and had to do a mini jog to catch up with the machine.

  Trish gasped. “Aha!”

  “There’s no aha! Why do people keep saying that?”

  “Tell me exactly what he said, and don’t you even try to lie to me or I’ll call him at work on Monday and ask him myself.”

  “He said he was an idiot to never have noticed me before. And no more aha. He notices me now as a friend. Period.”

  The girls walked in silence for a while, looking at the TV. Lyssa slowly brought her mind around to focus on what the quasi-newsperson was saying—just in time for Trish to ask, “If you’re just friends, you won’t have an issue with him dating someone else, right?”

  “Of course not. I even set him up with his last girlfriend, remember?”

  “That’s right. So this will be perfect.”

  “What will be perfect?”

  “He already trusts your matchmaking skills, so you should set him up with another friend.”

  Lyssa concentrated on keeping her steps at a steady pace. “Who?”

  Trish nudged her machine up a few notches and slipped into a slow jog, turning her head to face Lyssa full on. “Me.”

  Step, glide, step, glide, step, glide…

  “What’s wrong?” Trish asked when Lyssa didn’t answer. “Do you have a problem with that idea?”

  “I can’t say that the thought of my two good friends dating each other is appealing. Whose side am I supposed to take when something goes wrong? And something will go wrong—he’s not a one-girl kinda guy, you know.”

  “I’m not looking for anything serious—just a fling till Kurt pulls his head out of his arse and we get back together. From what I saw at that Christmas party, your Mister King is utterly fling worthy.”

  “That’s even worse! I can’t set Hayden up with someone else who’s going to treat him like a man-ho. He might be a prolific dater, but he’s still a really great guy who deserves a chance at being taken seriously.”

  “Oh, really?” Trish dragged out the “really” and turned to stare innocently at the control panel of her treadmill.

  Lyssa narrowed her eyes until they were barely more than slits. She knew exactly what was going on. Her friend was trying to manipulate her into admitting romantic feelings for Hayden. It didn’t matter that Lyssa would never say it out loud—Trish would take Lyssa’s refusal to set her up with him as proof. There was only one way to respond to such a challenge.

  Lyssa had to talk to Hayden. Normally, this would simply entail sending h
im a text or plopping into a chair in his office, but a dozen small tasks prevented her from doing either of those all Monday morning long. At eleven thirty, she finished calculating a series of statistics and felt ready for a break. It would’ve been the perfect time to buzz her partner to see if he was available. Instead, she decided to refill her coffee mug.

  As soon as she stepped into the employee lunchroom, she noted a nicely shaped bum pressing against charcoal gray suit pants as its owner rifled through one of the lower cabinets. Lyssa wasn’t one to note the relative attributes of the bums that sat on the desk chairs all around her every day, but this one was special—delicious curve, not too skinny, not too wide. Perfect. It could only belong to…

  “Hayden!” she said, flicking her eyes upward as he straightened and turned toward her.

  “Get a good look?”

  “Please tell me you weren’t standing there like that all morning, waiting for an unsuspecting female to ogle you.”

  “I don’t need to pose to get ogled.”

  “Then what were you looking for down there?” Lyssa went to the half-filled coffee carafe.

  “My watering can has gone missing.”

  Lyssa snickered as she poured coffee. “You’ve got to be the only guy at F and K who keeps a watering can in his office.”

  “Well, I’m not going to dump a Styrofoam cup-load of water onto my plants like the Neanderthals around here.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but you’re probably the only employee period with live plants in your office.” She loaded on the powdered creamer.

  “Beecher’s got a ficus.”

  “It’s fake.”

  “Really? It looks so real. Are you sure?”

  “Yep. It was a group gift a couple of years ago after he kept killing his live ones.”

  “Huh. Ya think you know a guy…”

  Lyssa knew it was time to quit stalling and do what she’d been putting off. “Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  “I’ve got something slightly more riveting than houseplants to talk to you about.”

  “Oh? Is everything on track for the draft review on Wednesday?”