That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(57)
“Fuck, Bunny,” Hayden groans under his breath, lustfully eyeing my legs. “Probably a good thing you didn’t play football.”
“And why is that?” I ask, putting my hand on my hip in defiance.
He shrugs his shoulders. “You’ve seen footballers’ legs. Why mess with perfection?”
I shake my head and accept his ridiculously cheesy compliment as he pulls me in for a sensual kiss. “Miss me?” I ask, giggling as he tries to stop me from pulling away.
“You could say that.” His eyes are hooded as he bites his lower lip.
He sighs heavily and grabs my hand in his as we make our way over to Pizza East located in an old tea warehouse near my neighbourhood. I’ve been here a few times for take away. It’s got a cosy cavernous feel on the inside. Furthermore, the wood oven and comfort of the home style foods they serve make it the perfect place for a relaxed evening out.
We order a couple of pizzas to split, and Hayden balks when I ask for an Italian soda. “You can get wine,” he mumbles, frustration radiating off his stiff posture.
“Oi! You need to start letting me make my own choices. I’m not that big of a drinker, Hayden.” I take the glass bottle of grape soda from the bloke behind the counter. “Can you get him one too? He needs a bit of cheer. What kind do you want?”
Hayden frowns and then grumbles, “Strawberry.”
I conceal my snicker as the man hands him the bottle of pink liquid. “Nice choice.”
Hayden sullenly takes a sip. “It’s bloody good too.” A grin splits across his face and he winks at me. We both laugh and make our way to a cosy red booth by the wall covered with wood logs for the pizza oven.
“I noticed that you didn’t drink much at Club Shay, actually.” Hayden says after we settle into our seats.
I nod feeling slightly pleased that he was watching me so closely that night. I did everything in my power not to look at him and it obviously worked. “I like an occasional drink, but I prefer to keep my wits about me when I’m around a lot of people.”
Hayden narrows his eyes at me. “Did you have your wits about you when you were giving Ethan all that sodding attention?”
My jaw drops in mock indignation. “You’re one to talk. I seem to remember you receiving a proper snog from Julie!”
He flinches. “That was…awkward. I only danced with her so I could keep an eye on you. But she pounced on me like a tiger in heat.”
I laugh at that visual imagery. “You were keeping an eye on me?” I shoot him a coy look.
“Bloody hell right I was,” he barks, knitting his brows at me. “You were killing me the whole night. Looking the way you looked. Christ. I didn’t think anything could top the white dress you wore the night of the gala, but red is definitely your colour.”
I giggle happily, his compliments blooming inside my heart.
“Then you barely looked at me after we got inside the club, never mind speaking to me,” Hayden adds with a growl. “It was f*cking torture.”
“Well, you tortured me on my rooftop if you recall,” I rebound, still somewhat smarting over the number of times he tried to walk away from me.
He blanches, his face turning serious. “I know, Vi. The only thing I can say to that is that my feelings for you…surprised me. I’m not sure I was ready for them. And you’re just so good and kind and pure. I was terrified of ruining you. I still am sometimes.”
I frown and shake my head defensively. “I’m not as perfect as you’re building me up to be in your head, Hayden. You want me to stop treating you like you’re fragile—I want you to stop treating me like I’m Her Majesty the Queen. I’m far from it.” I laugh as I think of a way to prove my point. “I was the type of kid who played hide and seek and yelled to the seeker where I was hiding! Kids hated playing with me on the playground because I never played games the way everyone else did.”
He roars with laughter at my sudden light-hearted change of tone. Despite my urgency over breaking his twisted view of me, this reaction still pleases me, so I continue. “It’s true. I’m always going to be that person who never quite gets it all done perfectly. I might send a gift, but it won’t be wrapped. I might remember your birthday, but you probably won’t get a card. I might want to send out Christmas cards myself, but I just won’t ever get it done. I’m not crafty…at all. Pinterest looks like prison to me. I’m probably going to over-bake the biscuits the one time of year when someone actually needs them for something. Even though I love cooking, I love picking up take away just as much. But I’ll probably call ahead and go to the wrong shop first. I’ll always be home late because I’m a horrible judge of time—”
“If you’re trying to put me off, you’re failing miserably, Vi,” Hayden interrupts. His brow is furrowed and there’s an oddly serious heaviness to his posture.
“Aren’t you listening?” I exclaim. “I’m a mess.”
He shakes his head and slides out of the booth to tuck himself in next to me. He rests one arm on the back of the booth and cups my cheek with his other hand. My eyes flutter closed as I become intoxicated by the overwhelming sawdust and shower scent that’s so deliciously Hayden.
A secretive grin plays on the corners of his mouth. “Everything you said sounds utterly charming, deliriously adorable, and…because it’s about you…sexy as f*ck.”