I glance around to make sure Frosty didn’t hear me say that, even though I’m pretty sure I said it in my head. Come to think of it, why should I care if he did hear me? I’m supposed to be pissing him off, and using the wrong word generally has great results.
The mental image of his pursed lips and dagger sharp glare has me fighting a smile, until I realize I’m looking at it in the flesh.
“I thought you said you weren’t an alcoholic.” Hayden’s brown eyes narrow to little slits, and I’m pretty sure if he could shoot fire out of them, he would. I’m torn between feeling proud and ashamed I can make this normally docile guy so pissed.
Proud, Ryder. You’re feeling proud. Pissing him off is the goal.
I paste a blank look on my face. “I’m not.”
“And yet you’ve been drinking, enough that I can smell it from here.”
It took more shots than I was planning on to find some measure of sleep last night, but I didn’t technically cross the line into drunk territory. And if he can smell that on me…again, that was the idea.
“Sleep deprived or hungover, Frosty, take your pick.” I give him my best photoshoot smile, no teeth with a hint of smug satisfaction. Photographers love it. It also usually works for an invitation to bed—not that I’m looking for one of those—I just want to knock him offbalance.
He crosses his arms in front of his slim yet firm chest, puffing it up just enough to confirm he’s solid despite being on the slender side.Huh, can’t complain about that view.
“Are you saying you can’t sleep unless you’re drunk?” Somehow his brows pull even closer. “How does that not make you an alcoholic?”
Damn his cheeks are pink, and not in the way that says he’s thinking dirty thoughts. No way he’ll put me on the mountain now. Mission accomplished.Why am I not gloating?
“Maybe I’m an insomniac.”
“Or maybe I was right not to trust you.” Now Hayden’s eyes look kinda shiny. Or is my headache making my vision blurry? Either way, I don’t love what I’m seeing.
I rub at a faint pain in my chest. “I don’t care if you trust me or not. I’m just here to do my penance and then I’m gone.”
“And after that?” His eyebrows climb higher on his face. “You’ll just go back to drinking your life away?”
“Not your concern.” I double down, determined not to let his sad eyes sway me.
“What about Max? He’s counting on you.”
Fuck, why’d Frosty have to go and bring him up?My mind wants to reject the idea of working with the kid yet my stomach clenches at the idea of letting him down. He doesn’t deserve to have someone fail him after what he’s been through. But he doesn’t deserve my baggage either.
“He’d be better off with someone else.” The words taste like literal shit in my mouth. Huh-I always thought that was just an expression.
“I agree.” Hayden throws his arms over his head and starts pacing back and forth. “But for some reason he wantsyou—”did his lip just quiver“—and since you seem to believe in his ability, I don’t want to punish Max because you’re an ass.”
I feel myself wince as Frosty spits his words at me, every single one of them true, which hurts more than I expected considering I wanted to earn his ire. But that was supposed to get me kicked out, not remind me a little kid is relying on me. The really fucked up thing is I don’t even know what’s more upsetting, that I’ll disappoint Max, or that I’ve disappointed Hayden.He was supposed to just send me packing, not let me see that I’ve let him down. Now what?
“I should call Carter and have him deal with you, but Max is due here in an hour, and I won’t disappoint him unless I have to. So, here.” Hayden grabs my bag out of my hand and drops it unceremoniously to the floor. “Close your eyes and walk.”
My guilt turns to indignation as I glare down at him. “Close my eyes and walk? Are you drunk testing me, right now?”Of all the…
“You bet your ass I am. Heel to toe. Ten steps.” He points a finger at the floor.
“Nine.”
“What?” His brows draw together.
“It’s nine steps, not ten.” I cross my arms in front of my chest with a smug grin.
“How would you know?”
“I’m doing penance, why?” I shoot him a pointed look.
“That’s stupid.” He ignores my question. “Nine is such a random number.”
