Mr. Beast

by Nicole Elliot

  “Call me ‘Hayden’ from now on.”

  He turned and started wheeling himself down the hallway. I felt my heart sink to my toes as I watched him disappear. He rolled himself into his bedroom and I slumped onto the couch with my head in my hands. I had been so close. So close to taking another step with him that was absolutely imperative to his mental well-being. The consult for his hip surgery was in less than a week, and he was in no mental state of being opened up again on an operating table.

  “Well?” Hayden asked.

  “What is it?” I asked with a groan.

  “You’re going to need your purse if you’re paying for a movie.”

  I whipped my head up towards the hallway and saw him sitting there in his chair.

  “You’re going?” I asked.

  “Seems like I don’t enjoy disappointing women,” he said with a grin.

  I smiled at him before I jumped up off the couch.

  Assisting someone in a wheelchair at the theater was harder than I figured it would be. The ramps were steeper than they should’ve been and I had to open both doors to get Hayden into the theater. I was glad I was the one paying for the movie, because Hayden’s face almost couldn’t see over the counter and into the ticket kiosk. We bypassed snacks simply so he wouldn’t have to sit in line only to be eye-level with another counter, and I couldn’t blame him.

  But none of that compared to the people that were staring at him.

  I knew his family was known, but I didn’t know they were famous. People were staring at him and children were pointing. Some parents were gawking and others were scoffing. Hayden was jumpy. Nervous. His head was on a constant swivel, probably looking for cameras or something of the sort. But what didn’t make it any better was the fact that he looked drastically different than before. His hair was longer and his beard had fully grown out. His eyes were sunken in a bit and his body was now disproportionate to the rest of him. His legs were slowly losing muscle while his arms were slowly gaining it, and it made him look like somewhat of a cartoon character.

  “Believe me now?” Hayden asked bitterly.

  But I kept my mouth shut.

  I wheeled him into the movie theater and pushed him into the level row where the handicapped signs were. I sat in the one lone chair after rolling him into the space, but his eyes weren’t focused on the screen. All around him, people were trying to turn their heads and see him. Get a glimpse of the billionaire in the wheelchair. And while the lawsuit against both the driver and the city weren’t helping his reputation at all, there was no reason for people to be acting this way.

  So, I did the only thing I knew I could do to settle him down.

  I held my hand out for him as the movie started up. The sound was loud and the chair underneath me was rumbling with the opening credits. I could feel Hayden’s eyes staring down into my palm, and I was hoping I wasn’t crossing a line. I wiggled my fingers playfully to signal what I was trying to do in case he was second-guessing himself, then I looked over at him and found his eyes staring back at me.

  Holding my gaze.

  Sizing me up again.

  I felt the warmth of his hand slid into mine and he laced our fingers together. Not an action I expected, but I could feel how much his hand was trembling. My thumb stroked his skin as the beginning of the movie started up and I turned my attention to the screen in front of me.

  But Hayden’s eyes were still locked onto my face.

  Slowly but surely, the shaking in his hands died down. I squeezed him gently and went to remove my hand, but he clamped down onto it. He didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to disconnect.

  And honestly?

  I didn’t either.

  We sat there for the entire movie and not another thought was given to the people around us. There were a couple of parts that even made Hayden laugh. I whipped my head over to him and watched his smile light up his beautiful blue eyes. I watched his cheeks pucker up and his entire demeanor change. That was what I was looking for. What I was gunning for. Smiles and laughter held the power of a thousand different medications all at once, and the broader he smiled the healthier he looked.

  Pretty soon it was me the one staring. Trying to get another glimpse of that intoxicating smile.

  The movie ended and I stood up from the chair. I wrapped around Hayden and began to push him out, trying to get ahead of the crowd. I was happy that getting out was exponentially easier than getting in, and a few minutes later I was loading us into his car. I folded up his wheelchair and stuck it in the backseat, then together the two of us sped out of the parking lot and hit the main road.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “Depends on what you’re offering,” Hayden said.

  “I’ve got McDonalds, Taco Bell, Wendy’s, and Five Guys.”

  “Given up on me already?”

  I looked over at Hayden and saw a cheeky grin crossing his cheeks.

  “Not at all. But you did what I asked. You went to see a movie, so I figured we could drive through somewhere, get some food, and go back home,” I said.

  “You know, before you? I never would’ve considered being caught dead in the drive-thru of those places.”

  “So is that a yes? Or are you saying I’m bad for your health.”

  “You better not be bad for my health. I’m counting on you to help me live through this hellhole.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” I said.

  “Nope. It’s only as bad as walking across a bed of fiery coals.”

  “Is your humor always this dark?” I asked with a giggle.

  “If it makes you laugh, then yes,” he said.

  I chanced a glance at him and I found his eyes staring at me. There was a small grin playing on his lips and it was hard to take my eyes off him. I settled for Wendy’s and pulled into the drive-thru, then Hayden did something I didn’t expect.

  He leaned over my body to look at the menu.

  He was pressed against me. Tightly. I could feel the chiseled features of his body as his hand rested between my legs to prop himself up. I felt my cheeks flushing furiously. I could feel his body heat radiating against my skin. His other hand settled on the chair behind my head, and I was eye-level with the sculpted muscles of his arm.

  I resisted the urge to lean my cheek on it.

  “For someone who wants me to eat well, this is a hell of a menu to offer,” Hayden said.

  “Then order a salad,” I said breathlessly.

  He slowly turned his head to meet my eyes and I could see a playfulness in them. Something I hadn’t ever seen before. A life in his eyes that made him even more beautiful than usual. I wanted to smile. To acknowledge that I saw it and that it was a good thing.

  But I was too busy focused on his hand planted on the seat between my legs. Because if he moved it— even a little bit— we were in trouble.

  “Welcome to Wendy’s, can I take your order?”

  “Ah, yes,” Hayden said. “I would like two spicy Caesar salads, two medium French fries, and two small chocolate frosties.”

  “Will that complete your order?”

  “Is there anything else you want?” he asked.

  I panned my gaze over to the menu as my palms began to sweat.

  “Nope. Nope, I’m uh… I’m good,” I said.

  “I’d like you to be great if we’re going to end this night with a game of Russian Roulette with my health,” Hayden said.

  I just needed him to back away. To move and get out of my personal space. Because every time he talked, his lips moved. And every time his lips moved, I thought about all the places he could put them.

  And that was wholly unprofessional.

  “Then I’m great. Outstanding. Absolutely wonderful.”

  “Yes,” Hayden said as his face grew closer to mine. “Yes you are, Grace.”

  My eyes snapped over to him. My name. The sound of my name and how it dripped from his lips. I felt myself weakening to him. I felt myself leaning
into him. My body was shifting and I felt my thighs grace the side of his arm. Our eyes were hovering. Holding one another in the damn drive-thru of a Wendy’s.

  “That’ll be $17.42. Drive around, please.”

  The voice from the box pierced the moment and Hayden settled back down into his seat. I cleared my throat and smoothed my hair from my face, then drove around to pay. I handed our food to him and he sat it all in his lap, and the rest of the ride back to his place was silent.

  Which was fine with me.

  Because my mind was screaming.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hayden

  It was easy to open up to Grace. And ever since that movie we went to, I found myself wanting to do it more. Instead of cooping myself up in my room, I started enjoying more routine things with her. Quiet banter over morning coffee. Topical banter over lunch. And while her dinners were growing more and more terrible, I enjoyed winding down my days with her at the table. She really must’ve put her all into that first dinner she cooked for me, though. Because that meal had been spectacular.

  My arm had finally healed and I was able to wheel myself around without pain. We had stopped the physical therapy on my arm completely and it was nice to feel a little more human. But the physical therapy in my hip was almost unbearable. I knew I had to prepare for my upcoming surgery, but it was rough. Thirty minutes of physical therapy and the pain alone had me sweating through my clothes.

  Grace was an angel. Though that was something I wouldn’t admit to her. Didn’t want to fluff up that ego and kick up that attitude she had anymore than I already was. I took over cooking dinners from her so we could eat something a little more palatable, and she seemed to be grateful for it. The first night I cooked I whipped up steak and potatoes. The second night was a seafood linguini with a homemade white sauce, and the third night was a nice, juicy roast.

  After that, she started assuming I was cooking dinner.

  And the routine was nice.

  We fell into a distinct dance. One that became more familiar and more enjoyed as the days rolled on. We woke up and had coffee before I would go clean myself up, then the two of us would sit together and read in the library until it was time for lunch. She’d pull out some things for sandwiches and I would grab some sides, then we would sit down and talk about the books we were reading. I found that she was a fan of old-school love stories. The kind where the man was a man and the woman was beautiful and succulent. The kind where a man knew exactly how to sweep her off her feet and the woman had no problems falling into his arms.

  Her eyes lit up whenever she talked about them.

  After lunch was an episode of NCIS to allow my food to digest, and then physical therapy was upon us. It was an hour of absolute torture, but I tried to focus on Grace’s hands. How they meandered up my leg and steadied my body as she rotated my hip joint. How her fingertips would slide into the band of my sweatpants and slowly pull them down my body. If I was lucky, her skin would graze mine, and that healthy flush her cheeks sometimes held would kick into overdrive.

  Little by little, Grace was chipping away at the hard outer material I’d covered myself in after the accident.

  After physical therapy was another clean-up session, only that one she would help me with. She would pull my shirt over my head and help me into a bath, and then I would discard my boxers once the water and the bubbles were covering my body. I wanted to pull her in with me. Strip her of her clothes and hold her against my body. I wanted to stroke my fingers down her neck and flutter them down her spine. I wanted to feel the curves of her body fill the crevices of my defunct one.

  Just once.

  Just one time to feel as if I was a man again.

  I started dreaming about her at night. I’d see her innocent smile and her twinkling eyes and I’d wake up in a cold sweat. I’d reach for her in my dreams and end up pulling my pillow next to my body. She was permeating my entire existence, and it all started with that one damn dinner.

  Why had I come out for that dinner?

  It wasn’t like me to be this captivated by a person. I made it a point to keep women at arm’s length for this exact reason. Women were distractions. And I couldn’t afford distractions with the company I was running. I finally had things back on track with the build in the Caribbean and my COO, Mike, had gone down there to set the record straight with that contracting company. I’d finally gotten Alicia promoted to Project Manager and I had just hired another receptionist that was being trained.

  Things were finally looking up, and the last thing I needed was a distraction like Grace.

  But every time I tried to push her away again, it didn’t work.

  Suddenly, my mind was wandering to all sorts of things. We’d be sitting in the library and I’d look up and wonder if she’d let me sit beside her. We’d been doing physical therapy and I’d wonder if she would allow her hand to travel just a little to the left. To fall into the dip of my thigh. Whenever we were drinking coffee in the morning and she was staring off into space, I’d wonder if she would want this.

  If a life in my penthouse apartment was something she would accept if offered to her.

  She could wake up every morning and stare at the sun rising over the city like she did. She could fall asleep in my arms every night after I carried her to the bed myself. She could experience the feeling of being the woman she wanted to be instead of having to lose herself in those books simply to experience it.

  I could give her the man she wanted.

  The man she needed.

  The man she craved.

  But when I was back to being a billionaire with a company to run and constantly on-call and taking business trips, would she want all that? Would those kinds of moments be enough when I was called away during dinner dates or personal vacations or in the middle of arguments?

  Would it be enough for a woman like her?

  I saw the stolen glances. The moments where I thought she wasn’t paying attention. I knew she had her eyes on me. She played a good hand in trying to keep it concealed, but there were moments where she simply couldn’t. Moments where her hands would tremble as they massaged my bare thigh and moments where she would help me into the bath and I could feel her holding me a little longer than usual before putting me into the water.

  She craved me. And I her.

  Then, it changed. One morning I woke up and Grace wasn’t out there making coffee. In fact, the coffee pot looked like it hadn’t been touched. No mugs were out and no lights were on. Her favorite part of the morning was already beginning to wane and she was nowhere in sight.

  And the panic that gripped my stomach was unbearable.

  I wheeled through the house, throwing open every door to try and find her. The laundry room. Her bedroom. Her bathroom. My bathroom. I checked the library and behind the couches. I checked underneath the breakfast table and around the bend that separated the living room from the bedrooms.

  Then I rolled myself to the bottom of the stairs and prepared to throw myself onto them.

  If Grace was upstairs and she was hurt, I was going to get to her. Whether or not my fucking leg worked.

  But before I could, I heard a key slip into the front door. I whipped around in my chair as my eyes hooked onto the door swinging open. And there, with her hair piled high and her makeup running underneath her eyes and her baggy clothes wrapped tightly around her body… was Grace.

  Holding two cups of coffee.

  “Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “We’re out of coffee and I didn’t know. I hope that place up the street is good because that’s where I went.”

  My heart slammed heavily against my chest as the panic began to recede.

  Grace was okay.

  She wasn’t hurt.

  And I was way too attached.

  “Hayden? You okay?”

  Her voice snapped me out of it and I began rolling myself into the kitchen.

  “We can go to the store later and get some more,” I said.

 
“Hayden, you seem upset.”

  “Does the coffee have cream and sugar?” I asked.

  I whipped my head around and saw Grace cock hers at me.

  “Not yours, no,” she said.

  “Good. Come sit. I’ll get us some fruit.”

  “Hayden, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

  “I never said I was or wasn’t. Come and sit, Grace.”

  “I didn’t mean to worry you if I did.”

  “You didn’t,” I said quickly.

  I drew in a deep breath as my eyes closed tightly.

  “You didn’t,” I said as I let out a sigh.

  “Okay,” Grace said meekly.

  And it was the truth. She hadn’t worried me. She scared me. Frightened me.

  Made me vulnerable.

  And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Grace

  The consultation appointment for Hayden’s surgery was today and I was a nervous wreck. And I wasn’t really sure why. It was just a consultation appointment for a hip surgery. Probably a replacement would be necessary to regain his full mobility. It wasn’t that big of a deal and Hayden seemed to be in great spirits, so why was my mind flying out of control? The nurse in me was taking over. Fumbling through every hiccup that could go wrong on the table. From fat embolisms that produce fatal heart attacks all the way down to nicked arteries that force him to slowly bleed out over the course of forty-eight hours.

  It was all tumbling around in my head as we drove to the hospital.

  The car ride was silent, and I was glad it was. I knew Hayden had a lot on his mind, and I had a lot on mine. I white-knuckled the steering wheel as we pulled into the parking lot, my nerves getting the best of me.

  “Grace?”

  “Yes?” I asked.

  Yikes. I’d said that a bit too loudly.

  “Are you all right?” Hayden asked.

  “I’m fine. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  “Keep yourself up all night worrying about me?”

  I looked over and saw the shit-eating grin on his face and felt my cheeks flush.

  “Not necessarily,” I said.