He smirks. “Well, considering I’ve bared my immortal soul, fair’s fair.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Prepare to be wildly underwhelmed.”
He rests a deliberate hand on my arm. “Nothing about you is underwhelming,” he says, staring right into my soul, and I could just about combust on the spot.
We pause near a tall window, the light dancing across Hayden’s face. He leans casually against a shelf, crossing his arms, like he’s posing for some Renaissance painting without even trying.
“Shoot,” I say with a flourish. He’s close enough now that I can’t stop thinking about what he’d taste like. Something dark, slow, and impossible to forget. “What do you want to know, oh mighty immortal one?”
He suppresses a grin, and I swear there’s actual amusement dancing behind those gray eyes of his. “What makes you happy?” he asks, voice low, too low, and I swear the question lands like a hand on the small of my back.
The question is too simple.
“Um…sunshine, mostly. Fresh flowers, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he echoes.
“The smell of rain before it starts. Watching people fall in love from a distance…nosey, I know.”
He chuckles softly, nodding for me to carry on.
“Sunday mornings when it’s quiet. A dirty martini. The first sip of coffee. Laughing until my face hurts. And”—I chance a look at him—“conversations like this.”
Something unreadable emerges behind Hayden’s eyes. “Conversations like this?”
I shrug, trying to play it cool despite the fact that my heart is rattling around my rib cage. “You know…where it’s more than small talk. When you’re learning someone, layer by layer.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his expression softening. “I like that.”
“Well, you’re welcome. That’s premium insight, by the way. I usually charge for this level of depth.”
“Noted. Put it on my tab,” he says. He lingers on my mouth and stays there, long enough that my pulse stumbles over itself and I feel the air shift again. My skin prickles with awareness, like my body’s already moving toward him even though I haven’t taken a single step. “Alright, your turn.”
He grins. “Ah, so we’re playing question roulette?”
“Youdidsay fair’s fair.” I pretend to think, tapping my chin dramatically. “Okay…what’s the most human thing you’ve ever done?”
He raises a brow. “Define ‘human.’ ”
“Something trivial. Like…have you ever gotten a parking ticket? Cried at a movie? Tripped in public and pretended it was intentional?”
His mouth curves into a reluctant grin. “I once fought a pigeon.”
I blink. “I’m sorry?”
“It stole my sandwich.”
I laugh, loud and unrestrained, the sound echoing off the highceilings. “Hades, god of the underworld…lost a sandwich to a pigeon?”
“It was an excellent sandwich,” he says, tragically sincere.
I double over, clutching my stomach. “At least tell me you won.”
He tilts his head, feigning contemplation. “And when you say ‘won,’ you mean…”
I’m still laughing when he nudges my arm, soft and intentional, a spark disguised as casual contact that sends a ripple down my spine.
His smile fades, settling into something that feels too gentle to be an accident. “What’s your biggest fear?”
