“Does it need to be one now?”I push my luck because damn, her mouth on mine is something I want to feel again.
“I’m not afraid of this part.”Her fingers curl against the front of my sweater before she steps back just enough to force space between us again.“It’s everything that comes after.”
And that brushes up against an old ache.It’s not a rejection, but it feels worse, because I know it’s the truth.Vanessa holds my gaze another second, her expression softer now, cautious in a way that didn’t exist ten minutes ago.Like she feels it too.How easy this still is between us and how dangerous that makes it.
Then she reaches up, smooths her thumb once along the stubble lining my jaw, and steps around me toward the end of the aisle.
“Come on, Sloane.”A glance over her shoulder, a small smile lifting her cheeks.“Buy me a book.”
And hell if that look somehow feels more intimate than the kiss did.
Chapter Fourteen
Vanessa
Call It What You Want To
Taylor Swift
By the time we leave the bookstore, the sun has started dipping lower over the city, painting everything in muted golds that Chicago somehow only gets for about twenty minutes before gray settles back in.
Neither of us mentions how long we stayed.Or how neither of us made any real attempt to leave earlier.Hayden carries the two books he bought me tucked beneath one arm despite the fact I offered twice to take them myself.I know it’s a control issue.But it’s softer now; less suffocating.At least so far.
Cold air curls around us as we walk back toward my apartment, leaves skittering across the sidewalk ahead of us while weekend crowds move around us in slow clusters.And once again, he walks on the outside closest to the street.Some habits really don’t die.
“You know,” I glance toward him, shoving my hands deeper into the pockets of my coat, “most people would’ve let me carry my own books.”
His gaze slides toward me without slowing.“Most people wouldn’t have noticed your wrist starting to hurt halfway through the store.”
I blink once.Because of course he noticed that.“I hate that you still do that.”
“Notice things?”His brow jumps as he angles a glance at me.
“Anticipate things.”
A faint smile touches the corner of his mouth.“You used to like it.”
The honesty in that stirs at something I thought I had buried.Because he’s right.I did.Until it became too much.But this version of him?The version learning restraint instead of assuming entitlement to every inch of my life?That feels different.Dangerously different.
We stop outside my building a few minutes later, both of us slowing naturally like neither wants to be the first person to acknowledge the afternoon is ending.The wind lifts strands of my hair again, and Hayden reaches out again to tuck them behind my ear, his hand settling against the side of my neck.There’s something devastatingly familiar about the gesture now.Not possessive.Not demanding.It’s just him.
“You’re thinking too hard again.”
His mouth curves slightly.“Occupational hazard when it comes to you.”
His thumb feathers once beneath my jaw, and God, that tiny touch somehow feels more intimate than the bookstore kiss did.
“I want to see you again.”
It’s not a question, but it’s not pressure either.Just certainty in what he wants.And maybe that’s what gets me.Because ten years later, Hayden still says things like they matter enough to become true.
“I’d like that.”
A quiet breath of what I think is relief leaves him before he steps closer.“Thursday?”
The day settles strangely in my chest.Because of course it does.Because I know that he knows.He knows about Spencer.The Gild.My Thursday’s with him.And suddenly it feels like I’m being tested.
Hayden watches me carefully enough that I know he notices the hesitation.And what caused it.His mouth tightens into a firm line before he speaks.“You’re busy.”
