My heart sinks. He knows . . . he knows what I want, and he knows he can’t give it to me.
My affection is one sided, just like I thought it was.
Ouch . . .
I pushed for a definite answer to where we stand, and I got it.
Move on.
“I’m tired.” I fake a smile. “Let’s get going.”
CHRISTOPHER
The walk back to the hostel is made in silence. Hayden’s arm is linked through mine, and we are walking along like we always do . . . except I’m not in comfortable silence like normal with her. There are a million questions running through my head at the speed of light.
You just don’t have the emotional intelligence that I’m looking for.
Everyone keeps telling me that I don’t have emotional intelligence, but why?
What is the point that I’m clearly missing?
What the fuck does an emotionally intelligent man do? Because I literally have no idea what I’m doing wrong here.
We get to the hostel, and as she goes to walk up the stairs, I pull her back and turn her toward me. “Hayden . . . wait.”
“What?”
I swallow a nervous lump in my throat. “I know I’m not the romantic kind of guy you want.”
Her eyes hold mine.
“But can you do something for me?”
“What?”
“Kiss me goodbye.”
“Chris . . .”
“Just once.”
I need to know.
“That’s all I’m asking, and then we’ll just be friends, and everything will return to normal.”
She goes to say something, and I cut her off as I kiss her softly. She tastes sweet and . . .
Delicious.
I slide my arms around her and kiss her properly this time, my tongue sliding between her parted lips. She kisses me back, and unexpected goose bumps scatter up my arms.
My cock begins to thump.
Oh . . .
Her body fits perfectly up against mine, and we kiss again. She’s measured, slow, and seductive . . . not at all what I was expecting. My eyes flutter closed.
What the fuck is this?
She jerks out of the kiss and steps back from me. Her eyes hold mine. “Goodbye, Christopher.”
She turns and bounces up the stairs and disappears into the building. I watch her, shocked, aroused, and confused.
Hmm . . . interesting.
I look down at the erection tenting my pants. “What are you fucking looking at?” I whisper angrily at him. I drag my hands through my hair in disgust. “Forget it. You can’t have her.”
I lie propped on my elbow and stare over at the seductress in her pure little pink pajamas, and under the covers she looks comfortable and relaxed.
Completely fuckable.
Hayden Whitmore.
Has there ever been a more annoying, infuriating temptation in the history of life?
I don’t think so.
It’s been a week since she casually kissed me, a week of imagining bending her over, a week of wanking in the shower until I nearly draw blood. And a very long week of following her around like a fucking puppy.
Not that she’d notice. She’s completely self-absorbed and most definitely not into me.