Page 77 of Hayden


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Throughout the week, the Thunder have only two games—one on Monday and another on Thursday. Since both are home matchups, Hayden and I are able to spend all of our free time together.

Yay!

There’s more good news too. My ankle feels significantly better by Friday. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad sprain after all. Still, even though I ditched the crutches and the Aircast, I wear flats all week to work.

And I take it easy.

On the way home from the office on Friday, I stop at a specialty dress shop to pick up a stunning kelly green sequined formfitting gown I ordered online for the team Christmas party that’s tomorrow night.

The associate who helps me suggests a cute pair of black velvet flats to pair with the dress.

Perfect.

Her suggestion turns out to be spot-on. Once I’m dressed on Saturday night, only the toes of the flats peek out from under the dress. No one will even realize I’m not wearing heels.

Hayden picks me up at seven, and damn, does he ever look amazingly hot in his black tux with velvet trim. I can barely keep my eyes off of him as he drives us to the team owner’s mansion in the Buckhead part of town.

“Wow,” I marvel when we pull into a large semicircle driveway.

Yeah, I’m impressed by the giant home in front of me. It’s stone and decorated in thousands of clear lights and holiday greenery, accentuated with red bows and ribbons.

This is clearly going to be quite an elegant affair.

A valet comes up to the Cayenne and opens the door for me.

After I step out carefully, Hayden comes around the front of the vehicle and joins me on the side.

“Are you ready?” he asks as we begin to make our way up a wide set of stone steps leading to opulently carved wooden double doors.

I know he’s referring to our debut as a couple.

Glancing over at him, I reply, “I am. I’m excited.”

“Good.” He takes my hand. “I am too.”

He knocks, and a butler opens the door. The sound of chatter and low music can be heard immediately, indicating the party is well underway.

As we step inside, the butler welcomes us and hands us each a flute of champagne. He then directs us to the ballroom.

“Down the hall and to the right,” he says in a crisp British accent. “That’s where you’ll find the party.”

“Thank you,” Hayden replies.

We head down the hall, the muffled sound of chatter, laughter, and light music growing louder.

Before we step into the ballroom, I take Hayden’s arm. “Still want to do this?” I ask.

“Hell, yeah.” He laughs. “I want the world to know we’re in love.”

“Good. I do too.”

Together, we walk in.

The party is crowded, which gives us time to get our bearings.

But then Coach Barnes notices us. His brows go up, and he starts smiling as he makes his way over.

Chuckling, he nods to me and pats Hayden on the back. “Hmm, looks like you two have been keeping a secret.”

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