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I ignored her and opened the door, walked in, and closed it behind me, my eyes on Hayden the entire time.
Pulled into a tight ponytail, her long curls brushed her shoulders as she worked, her eyes on the mass of documents in front of her.
“Marina, please,” she sighed, exasperation tinting her words. “I don’t have time for any impromptu meetings – anything, really.”
“Not even one cup of coffee?”
Her head shot up, wild eyes finding me and slowly focusing. “Frankie?” she murmured as if I’d disappear like a mirage in the desert.
“In the flesh,” I said, the barest hint of awkwardness prickling my skin.
“What are you doing here?”
There was no malice in her question, no irritation or anger. Just confusion.
“Marina said you weren’t drinking your coffee,” I answered, offering up a half-truth. I walked forward and set the coffee on her desk. “I had to see it for myself.”
The tips of her fingers circled the rim of the mug, her expression thoughtful.
“You came all the way here just to see if I was drinking coffee?” she joked.
“Well, it served as a nice excuse for security.” I chuckled. “But I really came here to ask if you were okay. If… if we were okay.”
Hayden’s hand retreated from the mug and hid in the cradle of her folded arms. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
I blew out a breath, searching for the words I needed. Words that wouldn’t push her further away. You haven’t been to the store in a while,” I said. “And after things between us got a little carried away, I wanted to come here and hash it out.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering if saying what I really felt would do more harm than good.
To hell with it.
“And,” I added, meeting her solid gaze head-on, “I missed you.”
Hayden blinked in surprise, looking so disarmed for a moment, so unguarded, that I wanted to pull her into my arms.
We stared at each other for a breathless moment. I waited for her; waited for the surprise to fade from her eyes and the tension in her shoulders to melt away.
“Frankie,” she whispered, her eyes so, so bright. “We can’t.”
“It’s not about ‘can’ or ‘can’t’, Hayden,” I said calmly. “It’s about what we want. And I want you.”
But Hayden shook her head. “I can’t do this, Frankie,” she insisted, her eyes endlessly sad.
“Why?”
“Because I’m scared of you.”
My breath caught in my throat and came out as a weak choke. “Scared?’ I asked weakly. “Of me?”
Hayden’s head dropped into her hands and she let loose a quiet, mirthless laugh. “Yeah.” She sighed. “Fuck. Look, I owe you an explanation, at least. Please sit down.”
Hesitantly, I did as she asked, taking the seat in front of her desk and waiting.
She dragged in a shaky breath and straightened her spine, her eyes focused on something behind me.
“The woman you met the other day,” she began, her voice drained of life. “Do you remember?”
“Natalie,” I answered instantly. “Your ex-girlfriend.”
