Page 140 of The Way I Hate Him
Understanding falls over her face as she says, “You know, sometimes when you’re trying to stay afloat, you put blinders on to keep you from getting distracted. Ryland just helped me lift those blinders.” She offers a soft smile. “Sorry if I made you feel like you didn’t belong.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I can’t imagine the kind of stress you and Ryland have beenandare going through. I just wish you would let me help more.”
“You will,” she says. “In good time, but for now, you fix you. That’s what Cassidy would want the most.” I know she’s right. “Now get out of here. I have a call with a lawyer, and I don’t need you distracting me.”
“A lawyer?” I ask. “Everything okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, just some semantics to work out. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Okay,” I say. “But you would tell me if something was wrong.”
“Always. And nothing is wrong, okay? Don’t come back here unless you have a story to tell about Hayes.”I can only hope it’s a good story and not another one where I feel like I’ve failed you and Ryland.
* * *
I glanceover at the Adirondack chair on Hayes’s porch out of habit. Once you’re scared twice, you don’t forget it. During the whole drive over here, I was a ball of nerves.
Do I want to see Hayes? Of course. My heart has wings whenever he’s around, and I feel it takes off with just one glance from him. But he’s also turned me down so many times at this point that it’s easy to fall under the impression he would do the same thing all over again.
With a very unsteady breath, I raise my hand to his door and knock loudly in case he’s in his studio. From the living room, I hear him say, “Come in.”
Was he expecting me?
That would be weird if he was unless Aubree told him.
Either way, I open his door and walk in only to find him sitting on his couch, guitar on his lap, his head turned down toward the strings, and the stacks of paper I made look untouched.
“Hey,” I say softly, causing him to whip his head to the side in surprise.
“Hattie,” he says, straightening up.
Okay, so he wasn’t expecting me.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes, of course.” He sets his guitar to the side and goes to stand, but I wave him off.
I move around the piles and approach him, taking in the soft waves of his hair on top of his head, the sharpness of his beard, and the surprise and awe in his eyes.Hell, I’ve missed this man.I’m not sure how it happened, but I grew attached to him over the small amount of time we spent together. And now that I’m near him again, I feel my pulse pick up and my mind begin to hope all over again.
Maybe this time will be different . . .
“How are you?” he asks as I stand in front of him, nervous.
I push my hair behind my ear. “Did you redo the apartment?”
He shifts uncomfortably but lightly nods. “I did.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I ruined it, and I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t return. I wanted it to be a place for you to feel comfortable to stay.”
“You didn’t do it for any other reason?” I ask, still standing in front of him.
He pushes his hand through his hair. “What reason would that be?” he asks.
Taking one last chance, I push him back on the couch and straddle his lap so I’m facing him. I rest my hand on his chest, and his hands immediately fall to my legs.
“Did you do it because maybe you were trying to impress me?”
