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“I hope so,” I whisper as I climb from the car and walk across the street.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Hayden
I lie atop my sheets, staring at the ceiling, squeezing two forearm-strengthener grips in my hands over and over. I’m using my toughest ones, requiring the most force, as if by making my body ache, again and again, I can somehow forget about the last time I saw Hallie.
Three days ago.
I’ve spent the time attempting to work, both on the kidnapping article and the political one.
I’ve got all the materials for the latter now, plenty to pore over, but my thoughts keep returning to Hallie.
Continuously, I tell myself we’re doing the right thing.
I tell myself there’s no other choice…except to betray Graham.
Or I could betray Hallie instead, tell Graham without warning her first. And then she’d get a phone call from her dad, with no idea why he was so angry or why he was roaring down the phone.
My thoughts return to the last time I saw her, the kiss we shared before that douche interrupted it.
It was good that he did that, I remind myself.
Otherwise, I would’ve kept kissing her, slipping my hand higher and higher on her leg until I was pressed right down on her eager pussy.
My hand strays to my cell phone.
Hallie’s been good, not texting or calling me. It has me wondering if she’s experiencing the same feeling I am, the tearing, the twisting inside that tells me I have to get to her.
Now.
Sitting up, I stare down at my cell phone, fighting the urge to use it.
I’m not going to call my woman.
But then I am. Just like last time, the urge to contact her is becoming too strong and overwhelming.
I know I’m the one who said we need to take a break.
But I can’t.
“Hello,” she answers on the third ring.
I walk over to the window, looking out at the city at nighttime, at the lights shining back up at me.
“I guess I’ve failed again,” I laugh dryly. “Tell me to hang up, Hallie, and I’ll try.”
“I don’t want that,” she murmurs. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me too,” I say, walking through my apartment into the living room as my thoughts rush with Graham.
“I’ve almost called you about a hundred times,” she laughs quietly. “But I kept stopping at the last second.”
Because of dad, she leaves unsaid, the words mocking. The words telling me I’ve made a serious mistake, calling her again.
But I can’t hang up. I can’t ignore her.
I can’t stop, not with Hallie, not even a little bit.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Editing.” She sighs. “Or trying to.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” I say, laughing quietly.
Walking out onto the balcony, I sit down, feeling the cool night air as it caresses me. She’s over there, in the suburbs, the lights just about visible beyond the city…singing out for me, screaming for us to be close.
“What are you editing?” I ask.
“It’s a music video for an independent artist,” she says. “Not a movie, but it’s fun…and crazy, honestly, that I can get paid for this.”
“When did you start?” I say.
There’s a pause, and I wonder if she’s thinking about how strange this is, that we can be fully certain we belong together without knowing everything about each other.
“Just before my eighteenth birthday. That’s when I made my freelance account, anyway, but….”
“Go on,” I say, listening intently. “I want to hear.”
“When I was a kid, around twelve, I started making family videos. Vacations, Christmas, stuff like that. I thought of myself as a little moviemaker, and then I started taking some courses online.”
“You sound like you love it,” I say softly, a smile touching my lips.
“There’s something magical about it,” she replies, and I can hear and feel the same smile in her voice.
Just her voice, hearing it, full-stop, is enough for me. But when I sense all that happiness and enthusiasm, I feel like singing in pure release.
Hearing so much passion in my woman’s voice is a privilege.
“I take all these pieces, all this raw footage, and it’s my job to try and make a story out of them.”
“Simpler than life, then,” I say, laughing gruffly.
“That’s it exactly,” she says, her tone brimming with even more eagerness. “In regular life, it’s like none of the pieces ever fit. At least, they didn’t, not until….”
“I feel the same,” I tell her when she trails off into nerve-tinged quietness.
“Do you?” she whispers.
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in my voice at all. “I had a lot of time to think overseas.”
“I feel so bad,” Hallie whispers. “Everything’s been so crazy between us. I feel like I haven’t even asked about that.”
“You don’t need to feel that way,” I tell her. “It’s not like I’m desperate to talk about it…or even write about it. I don’t think I’ll be able to finish any story until we’ve told….”
