Layers(59)

Trying unsuccessfully to avoid his stare, I mutter casually, “No one of importance.”

“No one of importance?” His brows furrow. “And yet you jumped when I mentioned his name.”

I bite my lip, looking under my lashes as I return his stare.

“Someone I used to hang out with.”

Daniel slides next to me; resting his head on his propped arm, he gazes down at me.

“Someone you hung out with?”

What’s with the third degree? “What is it that you want to know, Daniel?” I ask, somewhat annoyed.

“Who’s the guy and how intimate have you been with him?”

You’re kidding me, right? “You really want to know?” I question. Ridiculous doesn’t even begin to describe … whatever this is.

Daniel, lacking any inhibitions, moves to sit astride my stomach, cuffing my wrists, lifting my hands above my head, holding them tight to the mattress. “I gather by this response that adultery is involved here.”

“Adultery?” I can’t help the giggle that bursts from my mouth.

“Adultery, Hayley Grace. Adultery. Even past events are now considered adultery.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Did we get married and I wasn’t notified?” I tease. This entire situation is plainly absurd.

“Hayley, I’ve asked a question.” He pauses and deepens his stare at me. “What is the nature of your relationship with this Dave?” he asks in a firm voice, putting on a repulsed expression as he says David’s name. Psycho.

“If you really insist, and believe me I’m not sure why, but …” I shake my head with closed eyes. “We used to occasionally sleep together,” I declare dryly, without remorse at the bluntness of my words, given his intrusive interrogation. “Used to being the key words here,” I add assertively.

“Occasionally … just f**k?” he asks, his voice slightly raised, his eyes open wide and annoyed.

“You want the detailed definition of our past relationship? Well, we used to be friends with benefits,” I accent ‘past’ as I say it; his expression turns manic.

“Were there more Daves, Hayley?”

I sigh in irritation. “Come on, Daniel, this is starting to get ridiculous.” Will I ever hear the end of this?

“Why the f**k did he just call, then?” Daniel snaps.

I guess for some benefits? There’s no way I’m going to say that out loud.

“I could just beat the living shit out of this f**kwad right now,” he murmurs under his breath.

Of course you would. Nothing that a few years on an obscenely expensive therapist’s couch couldn’t fix.

“Well, it is not like we’ve published an engagement announcement in the Times,” I scoff. “And frankly, I didn’t find the time yet to send out ‘I’m taken’ email notifications to everyone I’ve ever been with.”

“Maybe it’s time you did,” he says scornfully, half smiling, though his eyes remain disturbed.

“How many ever been with are there anyway?”

If he only knew …

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” I say, resolute. He gives me an irritated look. Imperious, possessive psycho.

“And, just for the sake of this exchange of words, I am not arguing with you, Daniel, I’m just explaining to you why I’m absolutely right. We both had a life before, and I’d much rather not recite our sexual histories scrolls, especially not right this second.” I look up at him sternly and am regarded with now softer hazel depths, brows mildly furrowed.

Climbing off me he lays back with his head resting on my stomach. I can’t believe this entire conversation was in the nude. He leaves sweet little kisses on my skin, covering it with goose bumps. I guess some of what I said sunk in. Only he can alter from manic to sweet gentle kisses in a fraction of a second.

“Anyhow, it doesn’t really matter, D. I’m yours now,” I say in a small voice, trying to further sweeten the atmosphere between us.

“Hales,” he purrs quietly with closed eyes, his nose grazing my flesh.

“I am so yours, more than I’ve ever been mine.”

My heart expands to an almost painful level and I exhale an emotive sigh. Despite your crazy ways, if this is what love feels like, I think I’m in love with you, D.





Chapter 22: Change of Location


“Hayley, can you come over, please?” Josh’s voice reaches me over the noise and clatter coming from the occupied cubicles in the office’s vast open space.

“What’s up, boss?” I pop my head into his room, holding the doorframe.

“Have a seat.” He radiates his famous smile at me. Pensive, he fiddles with some male model portfolios, shuffling between three.

“Remember Canada?” he asks, still looking at the pictures in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

“Of course, the roadshow you asked me to accompany you to.”

“That very one,” he murmurs, knitting his eyebrows as he puts one of the folders aside, and spreads the remaining two on the desk in front of him, one next to the other.

“Well, it’s not going to happen.” He finally raises his eyes to look at me.

“Oh, really?” What’s with the stare, should I be disappointed or something? It’s just Canada.