“You were pretty upset.” He picked up a lock of my hair, twisting it around his fingers as he waited expectantly. He wasn’t going to let it go.
“I overreacted. The last time I met with him, he told me if I didn’t get my research together, I could lose my place in the program. I worked hard to get here. I don’t want all that effort to go to waste because I didn’t have the foresight to set my alarm.”
“It’s my fault you were tired,” he said.
“Oh? I think I’m the one who started it the first time, so if I have anyone to blame, it’s myself.”
I thought the aftermath of our night together would be different. But here we were, cozied up on my couch. Based on what he said in the car, Hayden planned to continue to utilize the loophole, at least until he started the tattoo. He could set boundaries if it made him feel better. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t push them, though. In the past few weeks I’d learned that with Hayden, everything was subject to change.
“So you admit to seducing me?” he said.
“I’ll admit no such thing. I only provided the loophole, and that was after all your flirting.”
In one swift motion he pulled me into his lap. Straddled over his legs, I was a few inches back from where friction would be possible. I tried to shift closer, but he ran his hand up the outside of my thigh to my waist and held me in place.
“Will you tell me about these?” He ran a gentle palm from my right shoulder to my waist, across the scars on my back.
I hesitated. “It’s a burn.” It was part of the truth.
“How did it happen?”
“I wasn’t fully conscious, so I don’t really remember. I think I was in shock because my pelvis was broken, so the pain didn’t register right away.” I traced the circumference of each button on his shirt. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want my past bleeding into my present.
“Christ. What kind of accident were you in?”
I closed my eyes; the memories came back in flashes. It was a lie that I didn’t remember. After I’d found Connor, I’d lost the ability to feel anything but horror and fear. Wading through the dead, the live wires above my head had sparked and sprayed, searing my back. In those moments, I’d been terrified the fire would reach me before I found a way out.
“Can we—” I struggled to get a handle on my emotions.
Hayden’s hands smoothed over my hair and down my back. “Is this why you want the back piece, to cover the scars?”
“No. It wasn’t ever a factor in the design or the placement.”
“Can I take a look?”
“The scars are ugly.”
“Everyone has scars, Tenley. If we’re lucky, they’re only on the outside.”
His reply carried so much sadness, like he understood what it meant to have them on the inside.
“I’ll show you if I don’t have to talk about it.”
Hayden pursed his lips and stared at me. “Why are you so intent on keeping this from me?”
“I like what we have right now. I don’t want anything to change how you see me.”
“Just because something fucked up happened to you? I don’t think so,” Hayden said with vehemence.
“I just want a little more time with you like this, without the past to bog things down. Okay?”
I caressed his cheek with the back of my hand, disarming him with tenderness. I got the impression it was something he wasn’t used to, and it made my heart break for him. For all his hard edges, he had just as many soft ones. I leaned in to kiss him. His fingers drifted up my sides. He gave a gentle tug and I sat back, allowing him to pull my shirt over my head. He cupped my breasts, his thumb slipping under the satin of my bra to skim a nipple. His hands, his mouth, and his body drowned out the less welcome thoughts that emerged after last night.
He lifted me carefully from his lap, and I settled on the cushion beside him. Better to let him see what he wanted than to give him more reason to question my reluctance. His fingertips swept from my shoulder to my waist, and I shivered at the contact.
“Are you cold?” he asked, his concern genuine.
I shook my head. On the contrary—I was too warm, afraid he would want explanations from me I wasn’t ready to give. Hayden didn’t do well with constraints. He remained silent for a long time, inspecting the damage, looking for answers in the ugliness I wore on my skin. It didn’t remotely reflect the darkness on the inside, but the tattoo would. I hoped it would eventually help exorcise it.
“These don’t look very old. How long ago was the accident?” he asked.
“You said I didn’t have to answer any more questions,” I said weakly.