I haven't cried in front of someone in years, but for some reason, my body thinks now is a good time to start. A tear slips out before I can stop it. Just as I'm reaching up to wipe it away, Hayden does it for me.
"Shit, don't cry, Maddie," he whispers. His thumb still lingers on the curve of my cheek, soft and warm. I wish he would keep it there. I wish I could have this version of him forever, but I know it won't last. These things never do.
I shift away slightly, needing to do some damage control before things get out of hand. "I'm not usually a crier," I say, fiddling with my necklace. It's the one Jamie got me; I have no idea why I'm still wearing it. "I mean, unless I'm watching a sad movie or something. Then I can't seem to stop. So, I don't want you to think that I go around crying all the time, because I don't. I just, well, I don't know."I'm babbling, and I know it. It seems whenever I'm around Hayden, I turn into this bumbling idiot. From the look in his eyes though, he doesn't seem to mind. "Thank you," I say, looking up.
His eyebrow arches. I can tell he's surprised. "For what?"
I shrug a little, trying to find the right way to put it. "For not laughing at me, I guess." As I say it, I reach out and touch the side of his arm. I do it because I've been dying to touch him, and I need an excuse. "You're not as bad as I thought you were."
Something electric passes between us. His eyes burn through mine, intense, scrutinizing, but I find I'm not embarrassed this time; I want him to look at me. I want him to notice me. He feels it too, this heat between us. I know he does. I can tell by the way his eyes keep flitting to my lips. He's thinking the same thing I am.
I glance at his lips. I'm thinking about prying them apart with my tongue to discover how he tastes. I don't know why I imagine this specifically—it's not like I've ever done it before. I'm used to innocent kisses, to kisses with lips slightly parted but never with tongue; kisses that are easily forgotten. The kiss I'm thinking about having right now is the kind you want to replay.
He must know this, too, because his eyes suddenly flash with something suggestive. I take a step closer, an innocent step, leaving the tiniest space between us. We're close enough that I can smell the fabric softener on his clothes and the hint of mint on his breath. Close enough that I can make out the fine lines in his soft, pink lips. His jaw is clenched, the muscles in his neck contracted. He's fighting to restrain himself—the thought unravels me.
"Come on, Maddie," he whispers. "Shock me."
His voice is low, deep, and the slight plead in his tone does something strange to my insides. Heat burns in my stomach, igniting a flame that only he can put out; I'm certain of it.
I don't think about all the reasons why I shouldn't. I don't think about his all the girls that he's been with. All I can think about as I stare at his lips is how badly I want to kiss him, so I do.
The moment our lips touch, I feel his sharp intake of breath. I've finally done it, I've finally shocked him. It doesn't last long. He grabs my waist and pulls me into him, kissing me back. I can feel every inch of him pressing against me, hard and rippled, but warm. Strong. His tongue runs along mine, tender, at first, but then urgency kicks in. He kisses me harder, like every second must count.
My breathing is ragged and out of control. His mouth leaves my lips, and I let out a whimper as he moves to my neck, sucking at the skin near my jaw. I tilt my head back and let out a moan that makes him growl into my neck.
I have never ever felt like this before: desired and excited and so utterly alive, like he's suddenly flicked a switch on in me. He brings his hand to either side of my neck, his lips back on mine, pushing and pushing, like he can't get enough. Like he needs to take more.
"Maddie." He says it with his mouth still on mine, so his voice is all muffled. I don't bother replying. I can no longer form anything even slightly coherent; every thought is consumed by him.
He takes me by the waist, pulling us back onto the mat without breaking our kiss. He's got me pinned to the floor, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as my own, his teeth nibbling my neck.
A part of me never wants this moment to end. I want it to keep going and going, but I know where we are headed. I can already feel him pressed against my thigh, hard and ready; I am both desperate and terrified.
I put my hands against his chest. I mean to push him away, but I don't apply pressure. I'm too distracted by the way his hand is creeping up my thigh, sending shivers through my body. I need to stop this. Stop, stop, stop, don't stop. His fingers reach the waistband of my yoga pants and I let out a gasp.
"Wait!" My hands apply pressure now, enough to keep him still. When I look into his eyes, they are darker and hungry, his lips swollen from my kisses. There are love bites on his neck, pink and fresh. Did I do those? "We can't," I say, staring at his chest. "I–I'm sorry, I need to go."
For a second, he doesn't move. He just watches me in this way that makes me feel conflicted. Then slowly, he lifts himself off me and gets to his feet, readjusting his sweatpants. I continue to stare at him, breathless, nauseous, suddenly feeling entirely too aware of myself.
Hayden looks down at me and offers a hand, which I reluctantly take. He pulls me to my feet until I'm stood right in front of him, and for a second we just stare at each other, still breathing heavily, still craving the other, I can tell just by looking at him.
"I really need to go," I say, grabbing my stuff. "Um, I'll see you on Wednesday."
"Wait," Hayden says, his voice low and rough, but I am already gone.
A/NComment a ❤️ emoji if you ship Hayden and Maddie