Page 18 of How You See Me
My heart does a weird, swoony flip. There’s nothing sexier than a man who loves his family. Gets me every time.
“You probably shouldn’t mention you know that. He’s a private person.”
“Locked in the vault.”
He arches an eyebrow, unconvinced.
“Are you sure he agrees with this?” I try not to think about the main issue with this plan—me and Hayes alone 24/7 for days on end. I wishIknew how I felt about it. The butterflies I listen to the most are a dizzying mess and no help. “It seems odd. He doesn’t strike me as the road-trip-with-a-chatty-girl type.”
“He’s probably used to it. He has four younger sisters.”
“If you say so.”
“For once, Jo Jo, I need you to be a little less dysfunctional.”
I feign offense. “What are you talking about? I’m always—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. We both know you procrastinate like your life depends on it and wouldn’t recognize order if it slapped you in the face.”
“That’s not true.” But my eyes travel around the room at all the evidence supporting Jordan’s accusation—clothes, paint, and food containers strewn about. The shoes I wore earlier kicked off by the back door. “Don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.” I toss him a cheeky salute. “Wouldn’t want to make the broody sergeant any broodier. I’ll be a whisper in the wind. Practically invisible.”
“Impossible,” he scoffs. “Whatever you do, you’re a rainbow and impossible to ignore.”
A laugh bubbles up to meet his, but it catches in my throat.
I want Jordan to be right. I want to believe that I’m not a nuisance. That I’m more than extra cargo on someone else’s trip. More than anything, I want Hayes to seeme—not just as his best friend’s sister or a passenger who fills the awkward silence.
The way he did during our almost kiss and in that hospital room. He didn’t just tolerate me. He listened and absorbed every flicker of my emotions and felt them himself. I could sense it in his body.
Something tells me, when he chooses to love, he doesn’t do it halfway. He’s all power and fire wound up in tight control.
And Lord help me. I want to stand in the center of that storm and feel it crash into me. I want to unravel him and know how it feels to be the one he lets go for.
???
Sprawled across my bed and the clothes I need to pack, I force my fingers to text Hayes. Not because I’ve been thinking about him non-stop or imagining his infuriatingly sexy scowl since Jordan left last night. Nope. I’m simply seeking details on the trip.
Me:Thank you for letting me hitch a ride. This is Josie Jones, BTW.
Hayes:No problem.
Okay. Not the best conversation starter.
Me:Is there anything I can do to help get ready?
Hayes:No. I’ll pick you up at 16:00.
Me:That’s 4 pm, right?
I giggle. I run on military time, too, thanks to Jordan, but it’s fun to imagine how that dumb blonde comment might get him all riledup.
Hayes:Yes.
Me:Are you going to be this talkative the whole drive?
Jordan warned me to behave, but I can’t help myself. We haven’t left yet, and Hayes’ cranky pants are already showing . . . however hot those pants may be with him in them.
Hayes:Yes.
