12/8/16

HEY! WHAT ARE you up to? I text Maxine as I lay on the soft covers of my bed with the phone lifted above my face. Miss you! I add after realizing how little I've talked to her in the last few days. I'm so used to seeing her bright red hair and freckled covered face every morning. Grayson always has early morning classes, so Maxine and I usually sit together and drink coffee and talk about our nights. Mine typically being a little more livelier than hers as mine involves the random stranger I have to kick out in front of her.

Doing some cleaning, she responds quickly.

My nose scrunches. Eww boring lol, I type back. You do know it's winter break right? That means you can relax, I sarcastically text her.

Even during weekends and fall break she is always running around either at work, studying, or cleaning. She's a crazy hard worker, and honestly a bit of a clean freak but that only makes our apartment so much more cleaner then it was in the past with just Grayson and myself. But she never lets herself just chill and she needs to, no she deserves time for herself.

Trying to get rid of some old clothes is boring but much needed, she explains and I somewhat understand. I tend to hoard my clothes as everything comes back in style at some point, and I refuse to have to buy new clothes when the trend comes back around in five to ten years.

Anything good? You know how I love to borrow clothes hehe, I tease though she knows I am being completely truthful in my words. Grayson and I got into the habit of sharing our clothes when we lived together, and Maxine quickly learned that living with us meant sharing every item of clothing she owned as well. Thankfully she's the kindest spirit around and graciously accepted our crazy, and went along with the sharing without a hitch.

Believe me I know, she responds. Don't worry I'll save a few things I know you'll like!

You're a gem, I reply letting a smile stretch across my lips. I still wonder how shy and quiet Maxine let two stubborn and loud-mouthed people such as Grayson and myself be her best friends. But I am thankful for it and her every day. She is honestly the best.

I know! I chuckle at her response as she rarely gives back any sass, but I always love when she does. Maxine, given a few drinks and or shots, can be a complete spit ball of fire and it's amazing to see that side of her come out and shine. And it makes me wonder why she doesn't let that side of her out more often, what she's hiding from the world.

Another message from Maxine pops up on my screen. Hey I have to go, but miss you lots and talk later!

Yes most definitely! I text back immediately as I do really want to talk to my friend, a friend who's kindness over the past year has changed not only me but Grayson as well.

I set my phone down next to me on the bed, and relax into the plush bedding for a few minutes knowing that Kylie is going to be picking me up in a few minutes to go out for the day. But I let my body sag into the soft frame, and my eyes shut for a few minutes. And I let my thoughts wander to my roommates, to Chase, and finally to Clayton.

He shouldn't be on my mind. He shouldn't even be on my radar, and here I am once again letting him invade my thoughts.

So I force my eyes open and him out of my head. I force it all away.

* * * * *

"What about this?" Kylie asks as she holds up a red embroidered off the shoulder top.

I tilt my head. "Hmm, yeah I'll try it on," I say as I grab the shirt to add to the growing pile in my arms.

Kylie needed some more clothes for teaching, and she told me I needed a break from the Hasting house. So she dragged me along on her shopping adventure. Though she was right I did need a small break from Chase and his family. I needed a definite break from being in close quarters with Clayton.

We both have armfuls of clothing as we wonder in and out of stores at the local mall. Kylie has purchased some new tops already while I still haven't found anything that's worth spending my money on. I'm a fashion major, which means I love clothes. But I also have a tight budget, which also means I thrift for many of my items and rarely buy clothing at stores as nice as these ones are here.

Easton is a small town, but predominantly wealthy especially in the area the Hasting family lives. I sometimes feel a little out of my element when I'm here, as I don't come from the same background as Kylie and the others in this small beach town.

After we try on clothes, the red shirt cute but not worth the almost seventy dollars it is priced, we walk out of the small boutique.

"Ohh...." Kylie calls out pointing a finger to the store across the way. "Let's stop in there," she says as she shifts her bags on her shoulder and begins to stroll over.

"The lingerie store?" I question a little shocked. I'm hesitant as I know I definitely can't afford the expensive silk and lace that fills the velvety store.

"I need a new bra," she states frankly. "They have my favorite style," she explains as we walk through the threshold and a faint flowery perfume invades my senses.

We wander further into the store and my eyes continue to take in the lux fabrics and pieces that fill the pricy store. "These are really nice," I drawl out alluding to the expensiveness of this place without saying it as such.

Kylie tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. "I know," she admits as her hands run over a rust colored corset. Her eyes rake in the costly items that surround us in longing. "I buy a couple every year and they're amazing, it's my one splurge," she smiles.

Kylie works hard and has a good job as a teacher. I know she comes from a well off family that helps her from time to time, but all in all she really does like to make her own worth and path in life. And there's nothing wrong with having family help, I would love to be able to help my kids one day like her and Grayson and Chase's families are able to do. It's just a far cry from how I was raised and what I was left with, or more how I was left.

I run my hands over some nighties as Kylie heads towards the dressing room to try on the bras because she thinks she may need to go down a cup size. Absentmindedly I let the silk of the dresses comb through my fingers as if it's water running over my fingertips. My hands and eyes take in the quality of the fabric, and then the seams and how everything is stitched together. The fashion major side of me tends to come out when I go shopping, which is also another reason I rarely do it.

A sigh falls from my lips as a part of me aches to own luxuries such as this. I only own a cheap corset and a few nicer bras and panty sets for when I want to spice things up. But one thing I've quickly learned through the years is that a guy doesn't necessarily care about the items that cover what they truly want.

But lingerie to me has never been about the men. Of course I want them to find me attractive, but I also know they would find me attractive with or without the lacy get up that will eventually end up in a pile on the ground. Lingerie is about the women, about owning it, showing off our best assets, and feeling sexy. No, owning sexy.

I pass by a blush colored silk robe and pause. It's simple and soft and completely lavish. The image of the soft hue against my flushing skin makes me feel slightly heated. Taking off my clothes has never been an experience I found sexy. Sure I feel attractive when a guy is looking at me, and touching me, and saying how "hot" I am. But the stripping part is usually rushed and a second thought to the actual act of sex.

But something about this simple silken robe has me picturing myself untying it and slowly letting it fall from my body in front of someone. In front of someone with eyes the shade of dripping honey, and sinful scotch.

"You should try it on," a deep voice comes from behind me.

I quickly pull my hand away from the fabric as if I've been burned, and in a way I did. I feel on fire from the voice behind me, the voice I was picturing just moments before.

My body swivels around as my heart beats far too fast in his presence. He's in a simple pair of dark jeans and a fitted grey Henley, and yet he's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on.

"What are you doing here?" The words come flooding out of my mouth before I can stop them, and of course it comes off sounding rude. It's my default. My eyes take in the small bag that hangs off his long fingers, and I hate the wave of jealously that washes upon me. It's small, but it's there and it makes my skin crawl because I shouldn't be feeling this way. At all, and yet here I am letting these feelings fill my chest...my heart.

"I uhh...." he trails out awkwardly as his eyes jerk over to the checkout desk. "Every year Colt has me buy his Christmas gifts before he comes," he tells me as he lifts the small bag in the air. A bag barely big enough to fit anything that truly covers the bits that matter, but I guess that's the point.

"Ohh...." I breathe out, as the next wave that hits me is relief. But I shouldn't feel relief, I shouldn't feel jealous, I shouldn't feel anything. And once again, here I am letting these emotions pull me under and fill my lungs up until I can't breathe. "Never met him, but seems like a very Colt thing," I say letting a smile touch my lips trying to make up for my rude words earlier.

A husky laugh flies from his parted lips making my skin break out in goosebumps as the magical sound brushes against me. "You're right," he agrees.

I pause.

He pauses.

I wait.

He waits.

The air between us fills with silence besides the mix of expensive perfumes and instrumental sultry music. He bites at his bottom lip as if he can in any way be as nervous as I am, though I know he can't because anxiety is rushing though every vein in my body. I shift on my feet rocking back and forth slightly knowing that Kylie will come out from the dressing room any minute.

"So," he starts. "Are you out shopping?" Clayton asks timidly as his eyes sweep in the skimpy lingerie behind me.

I nod once. "Yeah, I'm out with Kylie," I tell him as I look over my shoulder to see if she's out yet. A part of me not wanting her to come out at all so I can have one of the few and far between conversations with my best friend's brother that I crave more than air at this point. While the other part of me wants her to come out right now so she can break me away from the one thing I told myself to stay away from. Yet, here I am letting his presence continue to consume me and fill me in a way I've never experienced before.

"Grayson's friend, right?" he asks and I don't miss the way his jaw clenches as he says the name of my best friend.

My nose scrunches at his question. Though it doesn't come off rude it rubs me the wrong way. "My friend as well," I let him know as my head tilts to the right.

"Yeah," he agrees awkwardly like he knew that. Like he didn't assume I don't have any friends of my own.

"You don't like Grayson that much do you?" I ask as my eyes narrow in on the man who makes my insides do weird things. Weird things like make my heart beating so hard and so fast it feels like it's about to jump out of my chest and run straight to him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but then instantly shuts it as if he knows what he was about to say would offend me.

"So that's a yes if I ever saw one," I tease as my brows rise with a scoff falling from my parted lips.

He shakes his head. "I don't hate her—"

"I didn't ask if you hated her," I say cutting off his words. "I asked if you didn't like her?" I correct for him.

"I—"

"You've met Grayson right?" I question as I once again cut off his attempts at speaking.

"Well of course—"

I don't let him finish because before I can stop myself the words I'm thinking come bubbling out of my mouth. "Then you know she's probably the one of the most giving and kind people I've ever met—"

"She's fine, okay," he says forcefully as his words effectively shut me up. His tone edged with annoyance at my constant interruption, and his body has gone rigid.

"Hayley!" Kylie's voice calls out from across the store at me as she tosses me a wave to let me know she's heading towards the register to checkout.

"I'm going to go," I say trailing awkwardly as the sudden realization of how pushy I was being comes to light in my head. I toss a thumb over my shoulder before turning to walk away from Clayton.

"Wait," his deep voice resounds from behind me. "Hayley," my name once again falling from his lips as it's meant to be. As if the gods above named me just so he could speak it and make my body ache with a need I didn't know could exist with such power. And I hate how it's never sounded so perfect then when he calls after me, calls for me.

His hand wraps around my elbow making my skin feel as if it's been singed from the simple contact of his skin on mine. It's the first time he's touched me since the bar and all my body wants is more, and I realize how bad this truly is. I need to take a step away, I need him to never touch me again, but I don't move away from his touch.

"What?" I ask as I turn to look at the man I need to stay away from. Need to keep complete distance from, because he is danger that just so happens to be wrapped in the only package I want to open.

His hand finally drops from my skin and my body flushes with loss, but my mind sighs in reprieve. "I don't hate her or not like her—"

"You don't need to explain—" I tell him as embarrassment winds through me with a shake of my head as I disrupt his speaking again.

"Yes," he states immediately. "I do," his words coming out strong, as if what he's trying to tell me is important.

"Okay." The single word falls from my lips in a whisper, but a whisper I know only he can hear. This store may be relatively filled with customers, but in this moment it's only Clayton and me. And if I am being honest with myself I never want to leave this small bubble of time we just created, where nothing and no one else matters.

"She reminds me of someone that I knew," he begins and I can see the cogs turning in his head as if he's trying to find the perfect words to tell me how he's feeling. "And when she's around it makes me remember her and it makes me relive it and it makes me—"

"I get it," I say stopping him from finishing. Salty, shiny tears fill my pale green eyes, because he doesn't get how much I understand him. How on every level I understand. Because when I'm around him I get that feeling as well, from the certain way he says things, to the way he holds his books, he reminds me of someone that hurts to remember.

"No, you don't—" he begins as he tries to explain himself to me. But he doesn't realize how much I comprehend him that it hurts.

"Yes," I state firmly stopping him from speaking anymore. "I do," I say as I swallow the lump in my throat that makes everything, every muscle, and every bone feel heavy in me.

And I walk away. Towards Kylie, away from Clayton and popping the bubble that surrounds us for that small moment in time. 

Because Clayton isn't just dangerous for my fake relationship with Chase, as well as my friendship with him. He is dangerous in the way he makes me feel. Feel everything, feel too much, feel it all at once, and it hurts. So I need to stay away because I can't let the floodgates open now, I have to be strong for Chase.

But as I walk towards Kylie I realize how weak I feel for the first time in a while and I do something I never do.

I look back.

And I see Clayton standing where I left him watching me with his honey-dewed eyes.