Page 24 of The Best Kind of Forever
Stuffing down the monsoon of nerves inside me, I hesitantly open the door, my eyes going as wide as saucers at the sight of Hayes in a suit.A suit.
I know I’ve already seen him half-naked, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at his body. Hayes has one of those torsos that taper down to a slimmer waist and thighs that could probably crush a watermelon without much effort. His dirty-blond hair is gelled back, his face is clean-shaven, and he's wearing a heady cologne that sends a streak of pleasure between my legs.
Hayes hazards a look at me, and his cheeks go so warm they could give Arizona heat a run for its money.
“You look beautiful,” he says, a dimple developing at the corner of his lips. There’s a rustling coming from his hands, and that’s when I take in the bouquet of flowers he’s brought me.
No guy has ever given me flowers. Wilder certainly never did, not even on our anniversary or Valentine’s Day.
“You brought me flowers?” I gasp, taking them from him and inhaling deeply. He went with a pink, purple, and white color palette. It looks like there are some carnations, lilacs, and roses in the mix. They’re stunning, and the gesture releases butterflies to reside in my belly.
“You like them? I didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, and I didn’t want to ask you because it would ruin the surprise.”
I blush something fierce. “They’re perfect.” I wave him inside, ambling over to the kitchen in search of a vase to put them in.
A friendly meow comes from the mass of fur weaving in and out of his legs, and he crouches down, scratching Crunch behind the ear.
“She must really like you. She’s usually never this social with anyone,” I tell him, grabbing a vase from the top shelf of my cabinet. I’m glad I’m wearing heels, otherwise I’d embarrass myself by teetering on my tiptoes.
“I’ve always wanted a pet,” he confesses, having switched to rubbing the white spot underneath her chin.
I lean over the sink, cutting the stems at an angle. “Dog person?”
“Cat person,” he corrects.
Oh, wow. Did it just get hot in here?
“Well, you’re welcome to come over and see Crunch whenever you want,” I laugh, setting the flowers in the vase and fluffing their petals.
Hayes waltzes over to me, pulling me into his hard body. My heart skips a beat under his touch, and my breath catches in my throat.
“When I come over, it won’t be to see your cat, Aeris.” His voice is rich, warm, growly, oozing with a pinch of arrogance that the lower half of me can’t resist. That tone of his sends a tingle to every one of my erogenous zones.
I foolishly think he’s about to kiss me—just like I had last night after the game—but he doesn’t. He nips at the hinge of my jaw, then lashes his tongue over the stretch of skin below my ear, pulling my lobe into his mouth and sucking.
I moan in surprise as I involuntarily tilt my head back, squeezing my thighs together. Oh my God. Forget dinner. We should skip straight to dessert.
I’m lost on cloud nine before he rips me from my Hayes-haze, planting a peck on my cheek.
“We should go. We don’t want to be late to our reservation.”
* * *
The restaurantthat Hayes takes me to is a lot fancier than I expected. Pasta La Vista: a dining establishment that specializes in some of the best pasta dishes in Riverside. Once I stepped through those lavish double doors, I was like Dorothy in Oz. Curtains of red velvet cascade down the sides of elongated glass, drawing into a burgundy bow in the stained center. Tables of white silk sit dispersed among the spacious area, a luminous, crystal chandelier shimmering sensationally across an impractically tall ceiling. Potted plants are stationed at every entrance, and an extensive number of waiters and waitresses wander the restaurant.
I slide into my side of the booth, wiping my clammy palms on my dress. Our waiter comes by with a set of menus and a complimentary basket of bread, and my leg won’t stop bouncing against the underside of the table.
I’m not going to be able to afford anything on this menu. The water alone is five dollars. FIVE.
A frown christens my lips. “Everything looks so…”
“Pretentious?” Hayes chuckles, his Colgate-bright grin shining underneath the recessed lighting.
“Expensive,” I murmur quietly, suddenly feelingveryout of place. Not only among all these people, but with Hayes.
When I did some deep diving on him, there was always a leggy blond or a busty brunette attached to him in photos. They had thin, toned bodies, and their skin had a permanent sun-kissed look. I don’t tan easily. I don’t have lean muscle on my body. I have a soft belly, stretchmarks on my thighs, and acne scars. I’m not Hayes’ usual type.
Hayes lowers his menu, reaching across the table and enveloping my hand in his. “I want you to order whatever you want, okay? It doesn’t matter how much it costs.”
