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The sincerity of my words astounds me as much as the fact that I apologized, which is something I’ve never felt the need to do. But Calista is so much more than my lover. She’s the woman I care for.
And my future wife.
Chapter4
Calista
The dream-like statebetween sleeping and being awake is one of my favorite experiences. It’s a small moment in time where my worries haven’t plagued me and there’s nothing except complete serenity. It’s like a warm cocoon protecting me from the rest of the world.
As I slowly drift into wakefulness, that comfort threatens to slip away. I cling to it, trying to remain in this tranquil state for a little longer, but awareness creeps in. An unfamiliar weight draped over my side has my eyes fluttering open.
I scan the room, immediately noting it’s Hayden’s. Then memories from last night return to me in a rush. The pearls and his lies. The revealed truth and my tears.
Except I don’t remember how I ended up in his bed.
My entire body tingles with alarm. I turn my head slightly and freeze. Hayden is curled against me with his arm wrapped around my waist, his face nuzzled into the curve of my shoulder. His breath whispers across my skin, warm and steady. Our legs are tangled underneath the sheets, and my flesh burns wherever his bare skin touches mine. Considering he’s naked, I feel like I’m on fire.
Ignoring my body’s reaction to his proximity, I stare at him. I’ve never seen Hayden this way, and I commit it to memory, unable to help myself. His features are smoothed by repose, his face lacking the harsh lines around his mouth, eyes, and forehead that give him a severe countenance. As well as a callous one.
This unguarded expression makes him appear approachable instead of aloof.
Lovable instead of hateful.
My heart stutters painfully in my chest. I know I should leave—not just his bed, but this entire relationship. Yet there’s a part of me, averyfoolish one, that wants this thing between us to work out.
My eyes drift shut as I’m lulled by his steady breathing and the warmth of his body pressed against mine. It doesn’t take any effort to ignore my problems and concentrate on the man holding me in his arms as though he’s afraid to lose me.
If he hasn’t already…
I think back on our fight and shiver at the coldness that radiated from Hayden while he looked me in the eyes and admitted to being my stalker. Instead of apologizing and seeking forgiveness, he used my safety to justify his actions.
The brief moment of tranquility in his embrace fades with the rising of the sun. I turn back around, my fingers curling into fists around the sheets. Resentment wars with affection inside me until I think I might implode.
As if sensing my turmoil, Hayden stirs. He nuzzles my shoulder and murmurs something I can’t make out… except for a single word.
Baby.
My eyes sting with unshed tears, and the lump forming in my throat makes it difficult to breathe. I focus on keeping my shit together by pulling air into my lungs and blowing it back out slowly. He obliterates my efforts by tightening his arm around my waist, a contented sigh leaving his lips.
I’m trapped, pinned beneath him and under the weight of his betrayal. Not to mention my own shattered illusions of love and happiness.
Hayden’s breath skims the curve of my neck, right before his entire frame goes rigid. He lifts his head, and I can feel his gaze sweeping over me. It’s like a physical caress. I grit my teeth to remain unmoving, not wanting to show any reaction to him.
“Calista?” Threads of uncertainty underlie his tone despite the gruffness of sleep coating his voice. “Are you awake?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak but knowing that if I ignore Hayden, I’ll invite more issues into an already tenuous situation. There’s no reason to play games with a man who refuses to obey the rules.
“Look at me.” It’s not a request. With Hayden, it rarely is.
“No,” I say.
I unclench the sheets to slap a hand against his arm with the intention to shove him away. The second my palm makes contact with his forearm, Hayden moves. From one blink to the next, he flips me onto my back and then positions himself above me, his knees flanking my hips and his hands encircling my wrists on either side of my head.
The breath stills in my lungs at the feel of his body pressed to mine and because of the look on his face. I stare up at him, unsurprised by the anger I find there. It’s the brief flicker of panic that I can’t readily dismiss.
Hayden is quiet for a long while. When he speaks again, his voice is controlled, his expression stoic once more. “Calista, we need to talk.”
I avert my gaze, both unwilling and unable to meet his.
