The Wicked

The week flies by as Mrs. Justice and I get into the nitty-gritty of lesson planning to prepare for the school year. It isn’t until Friday evening that I feel like I can take a breath easily again.

I light some candles, uncork a bottle of expensive merlot, and run myself a steaming bath with bubbles falling over the sides as soon as I get home from school. When I submerge myself under the water, my entire body relaxes as I sigh loudly.

I still haven’t made any progress in getting Mrs. Justice to particularly like me – I doubt I will – but we’re learning how to coexist in the classroom. She’s tough and seems like the type of teacher who doesn’t take any shit from students. I’m looking forward to learning from her, even if my teaching style will most likely be a lot less intense, it’ll be good to see how she moves with the students.

I drink half the glass of wine I poured myself and lean back in the tub. Closing my eyes, I let my long week melt away within the soapy, swirling water.

I have plans to see my dad tomorrow, which is a whole different kind of emotional rollercoaster, so for tonight, I just need to decompress. I need to find an ounce of calm to keep me from slipping over the edge into insanity.

I haven’t heard from Hayden since the beach, and there’s been this little reminder of him in the back of my mind like an annoying fly that won’t buzz the fuck off. He’s more than I expected – and definitely something I think I want to avoid so early in my move back to Luxington. I meant what I said to him; I don’t need something else to add to my emotional pile of shit right now and ruin me. No matter how drawn to him I may feel, it just isn’t the right time.

After a half hour in the bath, my wineglass is empty and my toes are pruning, so I unplug the drain and say goodbye to my bubbles. It’s getting close to dinnertime, so while I dress, I go over all the options I have in my kitchen. It isn’t much since I’m still getting settled.

I have no idea what to make for dinner by the time I’m in sweats and opening the fridge.

I need to put go grocery shopping on my to-do list for this weekend.

Annoyed, I grab my phone to look over my DoorDash options.

Leaning against my counter, I scroll for a couple of minutes before I get bored and close the app. I don’t know what I’m in the mood for, and everyone knows you can never decide on a DoorDash option when you don’t have a specific craving.

I dial Katie’s number as I walk through the house and drop down onto the couch.

“Hello?” she answers, and I groan.

“Tell me what to get for dinner,” I whine, falling over on the couch dramatically, even though she can’t see me.

“Burger?” she suggests first.

“No.”

“Sushi?”

“No.”

“Uhhhh, tacos?” She laughs.

“No,” I whine, rolling my head on the leather.

“Okay, I’m done.”

“Kaaaate! I can’t pinpoint my craving, and I’m hungry.”

“Well, I guess you’re going to starve because I don’t know how to help you,” she muses, teasing me.

“Promise you’ll invite Rihanna to my funeral.”

“I will,” she says, laughing. “Of course. But I don’t think she’ll come. She’s so busy with the makeup line, and I’m pretty sure she’s secretly recording a new album.”

I groan. “Tell me about your day to distract me. Maybe that’ll help my stomach decide.”

“I met with a client about their new house in Seattle, and we went over color schemes and patterns. She wants a massive statue of an elephant in the front yard, so I’m trying to figure out how to get around that.”

“The life of an interior designer, huh?”

“It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it,” she says sarcastically. “What about you? Have you seen your sex friend again?”

I cringe. “My sex friend?”

“The douchey tattooed guy with the big dick. You know who I’m talking about.” She laughs as I roll my eyes.

“No, I haven’t seen him since Monday. Don’t think I’m going to again. I got relationship vibes from him. Not interested.”

“Or you are interested and you’re just running away because you think you aren’t deserving of love,” she snips, and I outwardly flinch.

“Ouch.”

“Well… am I wrong?”

“I didn’t know I was calling my therapist; how much do I owe you, doctor?” I deadpan, sitting up straight again.

“This session is on the house, babe.” She chuckles. “But really, would it be so bad if you made an attachment? You need a support system down there, especially with everything going on with your dad. It might be nice to have a little love in your life.”

I think over her words, but before I have a chance to say anything back, she shouts through the phone. “I have a great idea!”

“Oh?” I say, laughing.

“Call him and invite him out to dinner.”

I snort. “Were you not listening when I said I wasn’t going to see him again?”

“You like him. It’s Friday night, you definitely don’t have plans, and you’re hungry but can’t decide on what to eat. I’m solving all your problems. You’re welcome.”

My stomach has a few straggling butterflies trying to intimidate me, so I shake out my shoulders. Before I can chicken out, or let my mind convince me it’s a bad idea, I send a text to Hayden.

ME:

Dinner?

“Fine,” I say when I’ve returned my phone to my ear. “I texted him.”

“Good girl,” she coos. “Now, go get yourself dressed and call me tomorrow.”

I groan, rolling over on the couch. “Bye.”

“Byeeee!” she singsongs, then hangs up.

Tossing my phone on the table, I get up, not wanting to be around it when I get a response. I don’t know what I’m so nervous about. I’ve spent moments with Hayden that are more intimate than I have with others. He just sets me on edge; I can’t completely figure him out and that scares me. I’m usually the one to read people down to their dark center, but with him… I can’t get a good grip on what’s beneath his surface.

I strip down to my underwear once I’m in front of my closet, debating what to wear. I’m glad I took a bath with an unhealthy amount of bubbles because my skin smells like vanilla and is softer than a baby’s. Throwing on a tight, black dress, I call it an outfit. Maybe we’ll go somewhere nice, maybe we’ll just eat McDonalds in my car, I don’t know, but my little black dress always makes me feel sexy.

I’m unwrapping my hair from the knot on top of my head and shaking it out as I walk back to the living room to check my phone. There’s an unread message from Hayden and my stomach does a flip as I open it.

HAYDEN:

Pick you up in 30?

My teeth press into my lip as I hover my thumb over the screen, thinking. I don’t know if I’m ready for this to feel like a date yet, so I type out a response that makes me feel more casual.

ME:

I’ll just meet you downtown

I send the text, then watch as the bubble comes up showing he’s typing. I inwardly clench in anticipation. I don’t know why, and it isn’t until his next message comes through that I breathe.

HAYDEN:

Panificio in 30?

I sigh in relief at his suggestion, since it isn’t a fancy sit-down place, making this feel like two people just hanging out. Panificio is a little walk-up pizza place, with a few tables scattered under the outdoor canopy. They serve more complex dishes and dessert too, but it’s the best pizza in town. You’d have to be stupid to get anything but a slice. I smile, typing back.

ME:

See you then

Rushing to my bathroom, I start getting ready. My face is nice and tan, with freckles sprinkled over my nose from being in the sun, so I skip foundation and just brush some highlighter on my cheekbones before doing my eyes and brows.

When I’m satisfied with my now dark eyelids and contoured brows, I sweep some red lipstick on my lips and cover it with some clear gloss. I don’t want to look too done up, but I also want to look good.

I dry and curl my hair into big waves that cascade over my shoulders, then spray myself with some perfume before turning the lights off and going to my bedroom. Transferring my wallet and cigarettes into a little crossbody, I throw it over my body, then slip my feet into some chunky heels.

Okay, maybe the heels were too much, but they make me three inches taller and my legs look ten miles long.

I grab my phone as I pass through the living room and slip it into my purse, then my keys, and I’m out the door.

Since I live downtown, I decide to just walk down to Panificio. It’s only five blocks and the sun is setting so the air is fresh and cool, giving me the best opportunity to breathe and calm my mind.

I shoot a text to Katie as I walk, letting her know I’m going to meet him now, and then I put my phone on Do Not Disturb. I want this time with him, no interruptions, and no distractions. Maybe Katie is right when she says I’m just being stubborn – unable to accept love when it may be right in front of me. I can’t help it, though. Everything in my life has been so temporary. I mean, except my parents, but even then, I had to wait until I was a teen to feel love.

I have trouble letting myself accept people into my life because of the trauma I experienced when I was little. It’s hard to release the feelings of abandonment and rejection after being discarded by your birth parents, then floating around in the foster care system for so long.

Since it’s Friday evening, there’re a ton of people downtown walking around, heading to dinner or just enjoying the fresh air. I walk slowly, keeping my gaze ahead while I work on getting the nerves in the pit of my stomach to go away.

By the time I reach the restaurant, I’m feeling better.

I don’t see Hayden, so instead of standing around outside like an awkward teenager on her first date, I go inside. Most of the indoor tables are filled, and the guys behind the counter are bustling around, making food so quickly that no one notices me. I wander to the dessert case and distract myself with the thought of eating an entire Tiramisu after we’ve had dinner, then I stare at the cannolis and my stomach growls.

“Penelope.” Hayden’s voice pulls me from my daydream, and I turn to find him standing behind me.

He’s dressed in black slacks and a white tee, a pair of sneakers on his feet, and that backwards hat on again. Even in my three-inch heels, he’s still a head taller than me, and it makes me flush hot.

God, he’s delicious.

I smile without meaning to. “Hi.”

His lips tip up at the side, and he nods his head toward the dessert case behind me. “Went straight to dessert?”

I chuckle. “Just dreaming.”

His eyes travel down my body, then back up. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” I grin with my lips pressed together, and he chuckles.

“Food?” he asks, waving a hand to the counter to order.

I nod and follow behind him when he moves, and once he’s reached the counter, he calls out for the guy standing at the pizza oven. He holds two fingers up when the guy gives him his attention. “Two slices of Sicilian.”

He nods, moving to the case to grab them, and Hayden looks over his shoulder at me. There’s something incredibly hot about a man ordering for you without asking what you want, and the feminist inside me is shaming me for thinking so – but I don’t care. My mouth waters. Whether it’s from the smell of the pizza or how attractive I find this man, I’ll never know.

Once our food is in the oven, the guy comes over and rings us up. Hayden pulls his wallet out, and I put a hand on his arm. “I can pay.”

He raises a brow. “No.”

I laugh, understanding that his dominance won’t let him accept my offer, and I slide my hand off. When he hands a credit card to the cashier, I take a step toward him and kiss him on the ear. “Thank you.”

His arm goes around my waist, and he pulls my body against his so he can press his lips to my temple. “You wanna sit outside?”

I nod against him, unable to get words to move up my throat. Butterflies are attacking my stomach and chest with him so close, and the smell of his skin is making me dizzy.

You’d think after all the wicked positions he’s seen me in by now, I wouldn’t get nervous with him, but tonight feels different somehow.

He slides his hand around me, then trails it down my arm until he can slip his fingers between mine to lead me outside to the patio. There are only a few people out here, and he chooses the table farthest away from the door so we can have some privacy.

I sit before he can do something stupid like pull my chair out for me – I don’t know if I can handle that level of gentleman from Hayden – and he sits down across from me, propping his elbows on the black, iron table.

I find his eyes, dark with the reflection of the sun from behind me shining in them, and a smile touches my lips.

“Penelope?” he says, his face lifting in humor. “Is this a date?”

I choke on a laugh and roll my eyes at him. “What? No.”

He sits back in his seat, letting his legs hang open carelessly as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. “It feels like a date.”

“No,” I say, unable to find any other words.

He laughs, letting his head roll back and his arms fall to the sides of his chair. “Okay.”

Silence washes over us, and after a minute, I move uncomfortably in my seat. I clear my throat, pulling his attention back to me. “Did you think this was a date?”

“Yes,” he says, matter of fact.

I lean forward, resting an elbow on the table. “You wanted it to be a date?”

He mirrors me, leaning toward me. “Yes.”

I suck my teeth in thought, then narrow my eyes at him. “Is this a date?”

He chuckles, his eyelids fluttering with attitude. “Yes, Penelope. This is a date.”

My stomach flutters once again, butterflies exploding into greedy monsters that cut off my oxygen supply. Why does this feel like this? I stare at him, getting lost in the onyx of his eyes, and find the need to lean forward to kiss him pulling at my chest. Instead, I clear my throat again.

“I thought we talked about this.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “No, you talked, and I listened. After careful consideration, I decided to ignore you.”

I snort, sitting back in my chair. “Oh?”

He grins. “What is it you said? I’m a spoiled little rich boy who always gets what he wants?”

I laugh, loving our banter that comes so effortlessly. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Well…” He sits back again, leveling me with a look that makes my blood warm. “You should have known I wouldn’t give up, then.”

I can feel the sassiness inside of me bubbling up, and as much as I try to stamp it down, it isn’t in my nature to be submissive, so all I want to do is argue with him. “Always so sure of yourself, Hayden. What if I don’t want to be on a date with you?”

He rubs his palms together, then stands up. Circling the chair, he grabs the back of it so he can carry it around the table and place it next to me. When it’s a foot from me, he sits down again and faces me. I must have a look on my face that shows him exactly what I’m thinking, because when he leans toward me, he’s laughing.

“Penelope.” His voice is low, controlled. “I know you can feel what I do, no use in pushing it away. I want you, you want me. Stop being difficult.”

I laugh, which pisses him off enough that his jaw flexes. “I’ve given you no inclination that I’m interested in dating you. In fact, I’ve told you multiple times I don’t want to. We don’t even know each other.”

He reaches for me and runs a finger down my throat. I have to suppress a shiver at the light touch. “I know you love the beach, that you grew up in Luxington, that your dad has cancer, that when you dance, you get lost, like everyone else in the room disappears.”

I blink up at him, my chest rising and falling quicker.

He continues, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know that when you come, you like to have something to dig your nails into, that you scream loud enough to rattle the windows. I know you’re fucking beautiful. That even with makeup running down your face and your hair a mess, you’re the most beautiful girl in the room. I know you have an attitude that rivals mine, that you might be a bigger bitch than me, but you can also be soft. I know you’re broken, that you’re pushing me away because you think I’m going to destroy you – but it’s you who could destroy me, Penelope. I’d let you claw at me from the inside out, rip me apart and scatter the pieces if you wanted to.”

I’m barely breathing when he stops talking, my throat feeling dry and tight.

I clear my throat, then take a breath. “So, you know some things about me, but I don’t know you.”

“You know me.” He smiles. “I know you can feel me under your skin. Everything else, you’ll learn along the way.”

Just as I’m realizing how right he is, a server appears at our table to give us our food, and I lean back in my chair to end the conversation. Hayden’s eyes stay on me, though, like he’s trying to read the thoughts spinning around inside my mind.

When our slices of pizza are in front of us, we both thank the server as he walks away. I look out at the street, pretending I’m distracted by something, but I’m really freaking out inside. I can feel Hayden’s stare burning me, as if his gaze is stuck to me like a magnet, and I want to get up and run for my life.

After a minute, he grabs my hand. “Penelope.”

I look at him. “Let’s eat.”

It surprises me that he doesn’t push me, instead he nods and stops touching me. We both grab our pizza and eat in silence. It isn’t until both of our plates are empty that he finally talks again.

“Look at me.”

I do, finding his mouth curved into a smirk, which makes me chuckle. “What?”

“I don’t think you understand how unusual this is for me, Penelope. Chasing someone. Wanting someone. Being this guy.”

“I do.” I nod, because I do understand. I can say I don’t know him all I want, but at the end of the day, I do, in a sense. I know he’s not the guy who wants something he can’t have, he’s not the guy who needs to ask something twice – he gets his way the first time. I know he’s sought-after; his attitude the first time we met gave it away. But that isn’t the only thing that I got from our first encounter. I also learned that he’s a slut, he’s a jerk, he’s conceited, and he’s entitled. A fuckboy.

He hums between his lips in thought, then he grabs my hand and presses it against his face, pulling my gaze to his. “Give it a chance. Have fun with me. Spend time with me.”

I suck my teeth, looking off into the distance. After a minute, I sigh, then pop my lips, letting myself jump over the edge of the cliff, consequences be damned. “Fine.”

After we’re done eating, Hayden and I walk the ten minutes from downtown to the beach and find a shaded spot under some trees to watch the ocean. His arm wraps around me as the wind picks up, and I melt into his body as we sit in comfortable silence.

Once the sun has set, and people start leaving the sand after having watched the day turn to night, he turns to me and kisses me.

It isn’t sexual. Instead, his lips are soft and tender against mine. I can’t help but sigh through my nose and fall into the kiss. His hands explore my back and waist, but he doesn’t go any higher or lower, never crossing into territory that could heat things up. He’s careful with me, even with strong hands that are inked black and rough.

I pull back, looking up at him through my lashes, my heart pounding in my chest. “Tell me something about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks, brushing my hair from my face.

I decide to go straight for his jugular, wondering if I’ll hit any nerves and scare him off like the last time I asked about his parents.

“You said your parents weren’t here anymore. Where are they now?”

He presses his lips together and puts his arm around my shoulder. “My dad lives in New York. My mom is dead.”

I flinch at his bluntness, and he notices. I thought I would hit a nerve, but it’s my nerves that have been triggered. I just think of my own father, so close to death, and instantly feel sad. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head. “I was really young.”

I try to change the subject. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Surf,” he says, looking out at the ocean before he continues. “Drugs. Travel.”

“Surf, drugs, and travel,” I repeat, laughing. “What a life.”

He shrugs, chuckling. “Gotta do what makes you happy.”

“The first night we met, you were hooking up with a man,” I say, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

“Yes.”

“So, you like guys, too?” I ask.

“I do. Is that a problem?” he asks back, his brows raising as he turns to face me.

Shaking my head, I look at him. “Of course not, I was just curious.”

“Gender identity doesn’t mean anything to me,” he adds. “I don’t think it should be something that affects who you get involved with.”

“That’s beautiful.” I twist my lips with a smile.

We fall into silence again, and I think over other things I can ask him to get to know him, but I draw a blank. I’m too distracted by the heat of his body on mine, the smell of his skin so close to me, and I find myself turning hotter from the inside out.

Grabbing his jaw, I turn his head to kiss him again.

This time, I shuffle closer. I press my nails into his forearms, moaning in my throat when his fingers grip onto my waist. But then he suddenly pulls back, leaving me breathless.

“What’s wrong?”

He smiles, kissing my cheek. “I’m not going to fuck you today. It is our first date, after all.”

Leaning into his neck, I suck on his skin, then bite and kiss a line up to his jaw. “I fuck on the first date.”

He laughs, grabbing me by the arms to hold me at a distance. “I want today to be different.”

“Hayden,” I groan. “Don’t go soft on me now. We’re way past the need for you to be a gentleman with me.”

His hand wraps around my throat, and I smile as desire runs through me. Placing his mouth against mine, he speaks again. “I’m anything but soft when it comes to you, baby. Let me do this right.”