Page 27 of Roses & Ruin

“How much have you had?” he demands.

“Not enough,” I snap. “Why do you even care? Don’t you have Lotus Leaves to suck?”

The furrow between his dark brows deepens. “Lotus leaves? What are you—”

“Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to clean my mess up, thank you.” I try and shake his grip off my arm. It doesn’t budge. Not even a little.

Hayden raises a brow at me. “You done?”

“No.” I try shaking him off again, but Hayden’s already moving.

“Too bad.” He stands us both up in a graceful sweep.

I blink up at him. “My god, you’re tall,” I mutter. “Have you always been this tall?” Something passes over Hayden’s face, his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” he says in a low voice. “Yeah, I have.”

In that impossible way of his, he gently and swiftly maneuvers me so I’m sitting on a high-top chair. He leans over me, his dark hair sweeping over his brow. This close, in the dim red lighting, his eyes shift to violet. “Don’t move. I’m going to clean this up.”

“Were you watching me?” I whisper. “You acted like you didn’t even know I was here. And then all of a sudden, bam. Here you are.”

Hayden’s eyes roam my face. That alone is enough to get my entire body to erupt in goosebumps.

“Let me walk you home,” he murmurs. The way Hayden says it doesn’t sound like a request. He puts one arm on the bar and the other on the back of the chair, caging me in. I can barely breathe. It’s terrifying how this boy could do anything to me right this very moment, and I would let him. God, I would beg for it.

“Okay,” I whisper, and he’s immediately gone from my wake, heading across the bar to grab a rag, leaving me swaying and tingly. When he returns, he sets a full glass of water down in front of me.

“Drink,” he snaps before dropping to the ground with the dirty rag. I blink down at the back of his head.

“You,” I say, “can be very not nice.” Hayden pauses in the middle of scooping up a small pile of glass shards. He glances up at me, and for a very brief moment, there’s that strange expression again. He sits back on his knees and sweeps out a hand.

“Drink, please.” He cocks his head a tiny bit. “Better?”

“It’s a start,” I say, smiling into the water.

By the time he’s cleaned up the shattered glass and my spilled Long Island, I’ve finished half my water and am feeling a touch more in control of myself and steadier on my feet, even in the heels.

I shoot Delia and the others a text saying I’m walking home with someone from class, and Hayden walks me out.

The night air is damp, cold, cleansing. I fill my lungs with it, the cool, crisp fall smell. It clears my head, which is exactly what I need. I eye him as we walk side by side, his hands in his jacket pockets, his face tilted up at the fog-smothered moon.

“Thank you very much for helping me clean up the glass,” I say.

“So polite.” Amusement warms the edge of his voice. “You’re welcome.”

“And I don’t know if I ever really thanked you for your help with that”—I consider my word choice, wondering if I can rile him up—“pushy boy at the club.”

“Pushy?” Hayden sounds murderous. He looks murderous. “I can’t believe you’d say— I should have—” He breaks off in a sort of snarl, and it really shouldn’t be hot. He clenches his teeth. “Thank me by gaining even an inkling of a survival instinct. Okay?” I ignore the barb, hoping I’ve got him off-kilter enough now.

“But most of all,” I continue over his outburst, “thank you for saving my life from that truck last year. I would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

Hayden stops walking. His perfect face goes blank. He doesn’t look at me.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he finally says as he starts walking again. Something snaps inside me.

“No,” I say. I block his path and jut my chin up at him. “No, you don’t get to do this to me. Everyone else in my life already has, but not you.” Hayden meets my eyes, but his face stays smooth and expressionless. “Irvine, California. About a year ago. I was walking on a bridge and a truck lost control. I was seconds from being crushed. You were there. You saved me.”

“Sounds like a hero.” He shoves his hands back into his pockets and keeps walking. “Still wasn’t me.”