Why is it that I’ve never been able to fight this attraction between us?
Eighteen
Blaire
“Do you want to go to my brother’s apartment?” Carter asks, as we walk back to our dorm after chem lab. “He has food, cable, and beer.”
I haven’t spoken to Hayes since our stargazing dinner, exactly a week ago. Though, I’ve seen him around at times, and when he notices me, he waves from afar and walks away.
Do I want to see him?
My heart thumps fast just thinking about him. I’ve been fantasizing about kissing him all week long. Each time I see him, I hope he’d walk toward me and kiss me in the middle of the quad. If only... He’s hot, sexy, and super smart. His presence melts me into a puddle of goo.
I’m not sure if I want to see him because it’s clear that I have a big crush on him, and he… well, he said a few heart stopping lines, but I doubt he’s interested in me. He hasn’t attempted to speak to me all week, and he’s had the chance.
“Will he let us drink his beer?” I ask, wondering, because I’ve never tried beer in my life, and what if I get drunk at Hayes’ apartment.
“Nah, he’s fucking lame,” he says. “But if he’s in class or with his girlfriend, maybe we can steal a couple of them.”
My stomach drops with the news that he has a girlfriend. Then what was last week? He seemed … interested in me. At least I thought so. He was friendly, and I assumed … but it’s obvious that I misunderstood his intentions.
And here I’ve been thinking about his lips and wondering if he’s a good kisser. I wanted him to be my first kiss, but…
He has a girlfriend.
I hear a crack inside my chest, but I try not to fixate on it. He’s older. I’m just … me.
“So, he’s not there?”
Carter shakes his head. “I hope not, and if that’s the case, we have the place to ourselves.”
“Okay, let’s raid his apartment.” I try to joke, but sound more like a wounded animal.
He’s not single and led me to believe we were soulmates. I swear that’s what he said.
“That’s the spirit,” Carter says sarcastically. “You sound like you’re going to the dentist.”
“Ha! I’m just tired, okay?”
“Look, if you’re concerned about us hooking up, I can tell you that you’re not my type.”
“Wow, way to let a girl down,” I say and wink at him. “Listen, I know your type, and you're definitely not mine. I saw you flirting with Tiffany during Chem. And then making out with Darcy in the cafeteria—then there was the girl coming out of your bedroom last night fixing her clothes.”
“Hey, I’m young. Remember, Carpe Diem.”
“That’s so nineties,” I tell him with disdain. “As long as you use condoms, I won’t judge you.”
We walk across campus. This place is a maze of narrow winding streets and large groups of college students walking in different directions. Hayes’ apartment is almost at the edge of town. It’s a modern four-story building made of glass and steel. Carter unlocks the front door, and as we climb up the stairs, my hands begin to sweat. What if Hayes is in his apartment, with his girlfriend?
With every step, I regret accepting the invitation. I could be across town at the crepe place, ordering dessert before I buy a salad at the sandwich place. Instead, my heart thumps as Carter turns the door handle to the right and pushes open the door to the apartment.
When we enter, I spot Hayes, right away, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Liquid adrenaline runs through my bloodstream. My skin tingles, and I know I have to look away, but my eyes stay locked on him.
His chest is cut, layered with slabs of lean muscle. My eyes dart to his hips, remembering all the books I’ve read describing the defined v between them. His is well-defined, if not perfect, just as his chest and face. I itch to touch him. I want to feel him.
He has a girlfriend, I remind myself.
“Fuck, did we catch you with your girl?” Carter asks, and I feel as if all the air has been sucked out of my lungs.
Hayes looks at me and then at his brother, shaking his head. “No, I’m alone.”
“We should go,” I suggest. “You have a date, or something.”
“Stay,” Hayes orders with a bark. “I was planning on picking up some food and visiting you.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking to Carter or me.
“But your girlfriend,” I say, and I’m not sure why I’m upset.
He grabs his wallet from the counter and throws it at Carter. “Go pick up some food while I get dressed.”
“Seriously?” Carter asks, glaring at him. “I’m not your butler.”
“Dude, you’ve been freeloading from me. Yesterday, I caught you fucking a girl on my couch. The least you can do is pick up the food if you’re going to be a mooch.”
Carter sighs, turns around but before he leaves, Hayes says, “Bring strawberry ice cream too.”
“You only like chocolate,” Carter points out.
“Just do what I asked, Cart!”
As I’m about to follow behind Carter, Hayes orders, “Stop, Blaire!”
I turn around and glare at him. “You’re bossy today.”
“Rough week,” he exhales. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Okay,” I say and shrug. “Still is none of my business.”
“It is your business,” he presses, and his tone is less bossy when he says, “Please don’t tell my brother.”
“I’m confused. You don’t have a girlfriend, but you want him to think you do? Or you do, and you want me to think you don’t?”
“I. Don’t. Have. A. Girlfriend,” he repeats. “It’s an excuse to avoid family reunions, holidays, and any other thing my mother wants me to attend. I want you to know the truth.”
“Why?” I ask, without adding a snarky comment like I don’t care, because then I’d be lying, and I don’t like to lie.
I care if he has a girlfriend because I like him, a lot. Also, I’m curious about his confession. “Why would you care what I know or think?”
“Fuck if I know. I just know it’s important to be frank with you,” he says with earnest honesty, as he combs his wet hair with one hand. “I’m going to put some clothes on. I’ll be right back.”
I stare at his strong legs, firm ass and muscly back, as he walks away.
“Stop ogling me, Blaire,” he reprimands, with a playful voice. He’s not even turning around, so how does he know? “At least buy me dinner before you eye fuck me, Babe.”
I laugh loudly and set my backpack down, looking around his apartment. It’s not as small as I imagined. The living area has a large leather couch and a loveseat. There’s a large television decorating the wall. He has a few frames on the bookcase. There’s one of him with a woman, who I assume is his mother. There’s a second one with Carter. Others with his brothers. The one that I love the most is the portrait of a young kid with a guy who looks a lot like Hayes but is at least 20 years older. Is this his father?
I want to know everything about him, his family, what he wants to do once he’s done with med school.
“You haven’t called me,” he says with a loud, commanding voice. I like it, and I’m not one to take orders. He’s dressed in a simple dark t-shirt and jeans. No shoes or socks. Why do I find even his feet attractive?
“You said, ‘If you need me, call me,’” I reply, setting back the frame I hold.
He smirks, and I melt a little more.
“Why don’t you give me your phone number?” he asks.
“So you can call me in case you need me?”
He winks at me. “Expect at least two calls a day and maybe a few texts to remind you of me.”
After a moment of silence, I ask, “Are you flirting with me?”
“You’re a very strange person, Blaire Wilson.”
“You’re a nerd, and I don’t complain,” I answer, and then add, “I don’t do socializing or flirting very
well. I was homeschooled for the past four years.”
He examines my face and smiles. “Hey, I like to label myself as a science aficionado.”
“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I confirm.
“That's right,” he answers. “The position is open in case you’re interested.”
“Why would you lie to your family?” I ask, because I’ve no idea how to flirt back. I feel like I’ll say something stupid, and he’ll lose interest.
Would he? Is he even interested?
“It’s easier to say I’m going to Tahoe with my girlfriend than I’m ditching you for my friends because I hate dealing with family drama,” he explains.
“It’s still a lie.”
“I never said I wasn’t lying. How about you? Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you in San Francisco?” He’s genuinely curious about my dating life. I’m sure I told him last week that I haven’t dated. Maybe I just thought about it. That’s right, I was daydreaming. “Your high school sweetheart is on the other side of the country, emailing you daily and telling you how much he misses you?”
“No,” I say, looking at my hands, covered in small scars from the poking I’ve dealt with during my hospital stays and treatments.
He takes my hands and touches them. “What was it?” He sprinkles kisses on both hands. “Cancer?”
Trying to reclaim my hands, I say, “We don’t talk about it, okay?”
I’m almost out of breath because no one has ever been so gentle with my scars or paid attention to them. I’ve never felt so much electricity flowing through my body because of such tender touches.
“Then tell me about your last boyfriend,” he insists.
I swallow. “I was too busy doing other stuff to have one…” Or friends.
Most of the friends I made in the hospital moved on or … died. My best friend from middle school stopped talking to me after she started high school. Everyone forgot me.
“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?” he confirms.
“Nope, or crushes, or … anything really. Ever. I was too busy being sick,” I respond.
“Ever?” His green penetrating gaze holds mine. “Well then, we’ll take this slow.”
He bends and kisses my cheek, moving his mouth close to the corner of my lips, sending an electric surge that makes my entire body vibrate.
“Would you let me be your first kiss, Blaire?”
I can’t speak, but I nod slightly, trying to control the fluttering happening inside me. I’m so excited, and the anticipation is killing me. The oxygen around me disappears.
His lips brush my forehead, his arm wraps around my waist, as he bends closer to me. Tenderly, he feathers some kisses along my face until he reaches my mouth. He teases my lips with his tongue, and my mouth parts for him. I shiver at the feel of his hand on the back of my neck.
When he brings his lips to mine, he presses them lightly, his tongue teasing me, and when I part my mouth to let him in, he moves slowly. He laps me, slowly. I follow his moves, tasting him. I melt in his arms as I feel the warmth of his body. I don’t want this kiss to end, but after a long, breathtaking kiss, it does.
His eyes meet mine. “You taste better than I thought. I doubt I’ll ever get enough of you.”
I touch my lips and stare at him because I might not be in love, but I’m surely falling fast for him.
“Can we keep this between us?” he requests.
“What?”
“Us, dating. I want it to be our secret for now.”
“Why?” I frown.
“Because I need to break up with my fake girlfriend before I get serious with you. I don’t want to…” he shakes his head, “set a bad example for my brothers. Even though I’m really single. My father had a lot of affairs, and I don’t want them to think it’s right.”
“I don’t want to be your dirty secret.”
“Give me a couple of weeks, okay?” His voice is low, and he takes me by the waist and kisses me. “It’s going to be harder for me. I don’t think I’ll be able to live without your mouth after today.”
Nineteen
Hayes
It’s obvious I can’t try to act aloof with Blaire and pretend that I’m not interested in her. Ever since I met her, I’ve been clear about my intentions toward her. There’s something about Blaire that disarms me and makes me act like myself.
The guy who compared everything with science, watched the Discovery Channel instead of cartoons, and read fantasy and sci-fi books instead of playing video games. She’s known that guy since day one. I’ve never hidden myself or the way I felt about her.
Before, it wasn’t a problem because she felt the same, but now… I hurt her, and I have to be cautious.
It’s obvious that I pushed her too hard with that almost kiss. I have to keep my mouth away from her.
Fuck, what is wrong with me?
I’ll tell you what is wrong. When I met her, it was so easy to fall in love with her. Falling for her was like entering into an amazing world that I could finally call home. Even when I stepped out of that world by breaking up with her, my mind still travels back to it and yearns to be let in again.
Every single day, I crave the closeness Blaire and I shared. The intimacy, our long talks and also, I’m starving for her. She’s right here, and I can’t reach, touch, or even taste her.
So far, I’ve said all the wrong things. I have to take a step back and rethink my strategy. This Blaire doubts my intentions. She doesn’t trust me, and I have to convince her that, this time, I won’t hurt her. I learned my lesson. But what should I do next?
She’s clearly pissed at me because, as we walk to the doctor’s office, she’s quiet.
Too quiet.
That’s never a good sign because she’s most likely thinking about how to retaliate. As we walk side by side, my attention keeps moving to her lips. What would she have done if I hadn’t stopped?
I shouldn’t have gotten so close to her, but when I arrived at the bakery, she looked upset, and I hate when people bother her. I had to fix it, but just leaning closer and whispering in her ear had me wanting to grab her. Which I did when she almost laughed at the Tattle lady. Having her in my arms … I came undone. It was impossible not to lose my mind and try to devour her with just one kiss.
“What’s the plan?” She finally speaks, right before we’re in front of the building.
“We buy him out, and we figure out how to run the practice. I researched where to get equipment, and maybe we hire a couple of new doctors,” I explain. “We might need to hire more people. You’re good with general medicine, and down the road, we can set up a clinic—maybe a hospital. It’s part of what you do, right?”
“You don’t know if I’m a good doctor. After all, I’m just a physician’s assistant,” she says, and there’s a challenging tone in her voice.
“You’re full of shit,” I smirk, “Google told me everything you refuse to share, Blaire.”
“Really? You cyberstalked me?” She crosses her arms, but there’s humor in her eyes.
“You’re going to tell me that you haven’t googled me?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, it didn’t even occur to me,” she answers honestly. “I’m still recovering from my last trip, and I didn’t even finish it. Thankfully, it was my third trip in less than a year to the same town, so I was there, mostly, to deliver medicines, to make sure my kids are doing well, and to check on the orphanage that we’re building. Leaving didn’t affect them—or me. But still, I’m tired.”
“Maybe staying put will be good for you,” I conclude, brushing a loose strand of her hair around her ear. “So, what do you say? We buy this place and run the practice together as partners.”
“Aren’t we going a little too fast, Mr. Aldridge?” she says in a flirtatious tone. “Partnership sounds like a big commitment.”
“I can commit,” I argue, wondering if she still has the pendant I gave her when I promised we’d be together forever. “But then I fuc
ked everything up because I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to follow through, that I’d be a shitty … everything, like William.”
“Trying not to be William, you followed his pattern,” she says.
This feels like the conversation we avoided so many years ago, the one we need to have now in order to start anew. “It’s okay. I just hope you stopped that pattern, and that you’re happy.”
I scratch my neck, looking at her. “What pattern?”
“Avoiding emotional entanglements,” she says. “Have you fallen in love lately?”
“Have you?” I answer her question with my own, and my gut tightens, scared of the answer.
“Of course, with all my kids. It’s hard not to love them, even when I know I might not see them often—if ever,” she answers.
“How about another man?”
“You have no right to ask. You told me you didn’t want to see me, hear from me, or even think about me again.” Her voice is cracking. “My best friend had just died. I barely had the strength to keep it together, and you…”
Her words slam through me like a physical blow. My heart aches for her, for my brother, for myself.
“I was a cruel bastard.” I admit my callousness. “I became emotionless and didn’t think about my behavior toward anyone—not even you—the one person I’ve loved with all my being. My brother died, Blaire. I was in London, ignoring his calls, because I had a plan, and nothing could interrupt it. Not you, not him.”
“Your priorities were pretty screwed up,” she concludes. “It was a long time ago, Hayes. Carter loved you no matter what, and he was happy during his last days. I hope you moved on—just like I did.”
“Moved on?” I ask, almost in shock and definitely hurt.
She doesn’t love me anymore. It’s expected, but painful, nonetheless. Is there someone else? She evaded the question, and I’m unsure where I stand. That doesn’t deter me from continuing the conversation. She might be pissed, or even hate me, but she still has feelings for me. I have to hold onto that sliver of hope. I’m determined to see this through because, even if I’m not successful, at least this time, I’ll know I did all I could to win her back and keep her forever. “As in stopped loving you?”
Loved You Once Page 14