I’d definitely put Ron in a tough spot.
But I was also trying to figure out who the mysterious boss was.
Even though deep down I didn’t think it could be Hayden–he always seemed way too broke to be
loaded- something about Ron’s hints made me wonder if Hayden had more inmon with this
boss than I thought.
I didn’t have much going on that afternoon, so after a meeting, I opened my social media app.
I checked my new friend request from Cole. Our chat was empty except for the notification saying
we were now friends–no messages at all.
He’d definitely seen that I epted, but he hadn’t replied.
It was obvious he was ignoring me on purpose, his way of getting back at me for not epting his
requestst night..
This guy seriously held grudges. It was clear, even over something so small, that he was the type
revenge.
I guess that’s why both Hayden and Jace had warned me to stay away from him.
to
plot
But it was toote, we’d already crossed paths. Pretending I didn’t know him wasn’t an option
anymore.
Even if Cole was acting all cool and distant now, he had something up his sleeve. I didn’t need to do
anything–just keep my cool and wait for his next move.
By five, I was on my way back home.
Around this time, most of the neighbors were either out ying with their kids or hanging out, not
quite busy with dinner yet.
“Keira, you’re back?”
Mrs. Lowrey, my downstairs neighbor, waved at me with a big smile. We’d gotten pretty chummy
over time.
“Yeah, Mrs. Lowrey. Not cooking yet?” I asked, making small talk.
It might seem pointless, but these little chats really brought people closer.
“I just got back from grocery shopping,” she said, holding up her bags. “Haven’t started yet. Sigh,
I’m not as lucky as you, with such a wonderful boyfriend who cooks,” she added, nodding toward
my ce upstairs
? 2024 N?v/el/Dram/a.Org.
So, Hayden was home already.
I headed upstairs and knocked on Hayden’s door. His voice called out from inside, “It’s open.”
I pushed the door open a bit, and the delicious smell of food hit me, making my stomach growl–it
definitely noticed I’d skipped lunch.
The kitchen fan was going. I walked over and leaned against the doorway. “Whatever you’re
cooking
smells amazing. Even Mrs. Lowrey downstairs is jealous.”
Hayden nced over his shoulder at me. “Go wash your hands. There’s fresh watermelon juice in
the fridge.”
It was like he had a camera in my brain. He knew me too well.
On
my way home, I’d passed by a watermelon vendor and really wanted some. Now, here he was,
telling me he’d already made juice.
“Hayden, are you trying to win me over with good looks and good food?” I teased.
He didn’t answer. I shrugged, went to wash my hands, and then headed to the kitchen to grab the
watermelon juice from the fridge.
The kitchen in this old apartment was tiny. To get to the fridge, I had to squeeze past Hayden, who
was busy chopping veggies.
“Can you move a little? I need to grab something,” I said, motioning for him to scoot over.
He shifted closer to the stove, and I carefully squeezed by, opening the fridge to grab the juice. Just
as I was about to step back, his phone started buzzing in his pocket.
“Can you get that for me?” Hayden asked casually.
I didn’t think twice as I reached into his pocket, but the second my fingers brushed against the
fabric, Hayden’s whole body went rigid.
The warmth of his skin burned through the thin material, and I hesitated, my fingers faltering.
When I tried to pull back, he stiffened even more.
The weird sensation made me clumsy, and using my left hand wasn’t helping–it was nowhere near
as coordinated as my right. The phone, as if mocking me, stayed stuck in his pocket.
The ringtone kept ring, and with the heat from the stove, I could feel sweat starting to bead on
my neck.
?????
‘T’ll get it,” Hayden said, noticing my struggle. He wiped his hands quickly and reached down. But
just as he did, I managed to grip the phone, and his hand covered mine.
In the cramped kitchen, our bodies were already practically pressed together. Now, with his hand
over mine, the closeness made my whole body flush with heat.