He knocked on the front door, imagining Hayden looking back at him from the peephole. The lock on the other side of the door rattled and suddenly he was staring right at her. She looked so sweet his teeth ached. She wore a baggy T-shirt and a pair of spandex shorts that did amazing things for her thighs. How was she so toned without playing any sports?
“Nolan.” She glanced beyond him, as though verifying he was alone. “Are you looking for your sister? Beau drove her home.”
“Oh.” He looked down at the bags in his hand. “I thought y’all might be hungry.”
“You brought Whataburger? Wow. I need a brother like you.” She stared longingly at the bags.
He smiled uncomfortably. She thought he was here for Emmaline. He had tried to convince himself that he was here for Emmaline, too. Except now seeing Hayden, he knew the truth. This had nothing to do with his sister. He was here for Hayden.
She continued. “Well, I could eat.” She shrugged and then nodded at the warm, grease-stained bag in his hands. “If you’re up for sharing with me?” She met his gaze, lifting her chin almost defiantly. Like she dared him to eat with her—to cross the threshold into her house.
Another night on the couch with Hayden?
His chest lightened and expanded, and he felt like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yeah, sure.”
She opened the door wider and motioned him inside. Plopping down on the couch, she patted the space next to her and then leaned forward to clear off a spot on the coffee table. He joined her on the couch and started taking out the food, flattening the bags to use as plates.
“Y’all have fun tonight?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I guess. I think Sanjana had a little too much to drink. She’s napping on my bed. I have to take her home in an hour.”
“How was Em—” He paused and swallowed, choosing his words carefully, trying not to come across as the overprotective brother again. “Did Emmaline have a good time?”
She shrugged again. “I think so. She wore these ridiculous shoes that murdered her feet and some guy spilled beer all over her sweater. Keg parties aren’t really her scene, you know.”
“I know.” He nodded.
“She’s pretending to like it though.”
“I don’t know why she’s forcing it. Parties like that aren’t ever going to be her thing.”
“She’ll figure it out. Give her time.”
He hoped so. He wanted to leave for college knowing she could take care of herself. His father would want that.
“I mean, isn’t that adolescence? Finding yourself?” she added.
“Is it? So, when we’re in our twenties we’ll have it all figured out?”
“I already have it figured out. I know myself.” She smirked and gave him a challenging look that seemed to say: Can you claim the same?
“Yeah? Good for you.” Somehow he believed her. She seemed like an adult already—more grown up than any of his friends.
Glancing around the shabby surroundings, he wondered if she even had a mother. Of course, everyone had a mother, but was her mother actually in the picture? Was she present in her life or was Hayden raising herself? He realized he didn’t know as much about Hayden as he wanted to, and he felt a fresh stab of guilt at his earlier misconceptions about her.
“Are parties your thing?” She propped her feet on the coffee table, stretching out her legs. “It’s Saturday night and you’re sitting here on my crappy couch eating Whataburger with me.” She foraged through the bag and stuffed a bunch of fries into her mouth and chewed, watching him.
He shrugged. “I’ve been to my share of parties.”
She nodded and swallowed. “Me too. But do you like parties?”
He gave another shrug. “Sometimes it’s nice to stay in and hang out with people you like instead of talking to a bunch of strangers at a party.”
Silence fell between them, and he replayed what he just said in his mind, what he just admitted. Sometimes it’s nice to stay in and hang out with people you like.
So he just confessed he liked her. Okay, well, it was the truth. He didn’t regret saying it. He had never been one of those guys unable to express emotion. He was well versed in talking out his feelings.
He slid her a glance to see how she took that admission from him.
She was looking at him consideringly, her eyes a little heavy-lidded. Or maybe he was just imagining that—hoping he was seeing something more there.
She leaned back against the couch. “You like hanging out with me?”
“I’m having fun right now.” He nodded. “Being with you here. Yeah, I like it.”
She smiled slowly, laughing lightly. “Did you come here to kiss me again, Nolan Martin?
“Do you want me to kiss you, Hayden Vargas?”
Still laughing, now almost soundlessly, she shook her head at him. It wasn’t a refusal precisely, more like he was too much, in a good way. He loved that he could make her laugh, that she was so easy to be with.
“You’re single now,” she said, giving his knee a nudge. “You’re free. No more relationship worries. No more sleepless nights contemplating how you’re going to ask your girlfriend to the dance.”
He grunted. “Yeah. That’s nice.” The dance was a few weeks away now. If they hadn’t broken up and he hadn’t asked Pris yet, the pressure would be pretty intense right now.
“What? You don’t like dances?”
“Dances are okay. I mean, in theory, they’re great, right? Slow dancing with someone you’re really into? I just never understood why there was so much work leading up to them. I mean, the whole dance proposal thing has gotten way out of hand. Three dances a year! And I’ve got to think up something unique every time.”
She laughed. “God. You’re stressing me out just talking about it.”
He chuckled. “For real. It stressed me out, too.” He waved his hands for emphasis. “Going to a dance shouldn’t be so hard.”
“I guess not. Too bad your girlfriend never surprised you and did the asking.”
“Now that would have been awesome.” He couldn’t imagine Priscilla ever taking on that burden. She’d loved being on the receiving end of a promposal. He guessed that was fairly normal.
Hayden nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl do a dance proposal.”
“Neither have I,” he seconded. “That would be a nice change.”
“Well. You don’t have to worry about it now.”
“No, I don’t,” he agreed, feeling intensely satisfied.
“Now you can go to parties and flirt with any girl you want and not have to worry about any of that. In fact, you could be doing that right now.”
“I don’t want to be at a party flirting with other girls.”
“Oh?” She arched one dark eyebrow and pointed at the center of her chest. “You only want to be here flirting with me?” She was joking. He read the glint of humor in her eyes, but it wasn’t a joke to him.
“Yes.” He hadn’t planned to admit that, but it was the truth, and he delivered it solemnly.
She considered him a moment. “You want me to be your rebound?”