…
Brent shoved yesterday’s clothes into his overnight bag, throwing another impatient glance at the door connecting his room to Hayden’s. Christ, she’d gone to shower and change a mere half hour ago and he already missed the sight of her. He’d rushed through his shower, hoping she’d do the same so they could spend the remaining hour before checkout together, but he’d emerged from the shower to find her door locked. He knew her game now and it only excited him. It was her turn to run the show. She wanted to frustrate him, make him wait. Perhaps she’d wait until they had ten minutes to go before coming to him so he’d have to take her quickly. Frantically.
He stared hard at the door, contemplating the idea of knocking. Saying something dirty to her through the barrier, giving her no choice but to open it. She’d be soft and fragrant from her shower. Her scent still lingered in the room, but he needed it up close. He didn’t have a name for her scent. Expensive, appetizing, light, tempting.
Shit. Why don’t you just grab some hotel stationery and write a quick haiku, Romeo? Ode to Hayden’s body. While his fevered thoughts regarding her body could easily take up eight hotel notepads, he could completely double that on Hayden the sensual flirt. Hayden the rumpled jokester. Hayden the girl who carried around hidden pain, locking it up so tight she rarely allowed anyone a glimpse. She’d given him a brief glance last night on the boardwalk and now he wanted more. To learn every part of her. Find out more about what made her tick.
Furthermore, Brent wanted to show her the parts of himself he normally kept hidden under his loud, abrasive personality. The one he showed the world, but didn’t necessarily sum him up. He wanted her to see more. Wanted to show her more.
To his relief, she’d agreed in her own roundabout way to give him that chance. All right, his methods for gaining her agreement hadn’t exactly been fair, but when had they ever fought fair? He and Hayden did things their own unusual way and he wouldn’t change it for anything. They’d have bumps along the way to finding out where this relationship would go, but dammit if he didn’t look forward to arguing. And hell…making up? He got hard just thinking about it.
His cell phone rang beside him on the bed. His sister Lucy’s picture popped up on the screen and he shivered in horror at having a hard-on at the same time. He shook his head to dispel thoughts of an angry yet turned-on Hayden from his mind and answered the phone.
“Luce. What’s wrong? You need bail money again?”
“Funny. You should take your act on the road.” He couldn’t help but smile at her sarcastic response. His sister looked and acted like a sorority girl, but she was hell on wheels. Yet underneath her strawberry curls, so like their mother’s, lurked a closet brainiac. Her intelligence motivated him to work twice as many hours. What was a couple extra hours in a greasy garage when his little sister might take her college education and change the world someday? If she didn’t get herself killed skydiving or speeding on her moped first. “Besides, that one time was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know bonfires weren’t allowed on campus. There should be clearly marked signs.”
“That say what? ‘Use your common sense’?”
She snorted. “All right, I’m going to let you get away with that one. I’m too happy with you today to take issue with your stuffy tone.”
He glanced back at the connecting door. What the hell was taking Hayden so long? “Happy with me?”
“Of course! How come you didn’t tell me you were applying for tuition grants? I would have helped fill out paperwork. Who knew I was even eligible for one?”
Brent felt a sense of foreboding settle in his stomach. His sixth sense kicked into high gear. This was somehow bad news. He just knew it. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. What grant are you talking about? Who told you the tuition had been paid?”
“The bursar called me. They received funds for the remainder of my tuition from the…” She trailed off and he heard some papers rustling in the background. “The Winstead Foundation.”
His hand tightened on the phone until he heard the plastic creak in his fist. When he spoke, the words felt like they were being strangled from his throat. “Did they say anything else?”
“Nope. Just that I’d been personally selected by the head of the foundation. Some rich person named Hayden Winstead. I’m not even sure if that’s a man or a woman’s name. What do you think?”
“Woman,” he answered through clenched teeth. “She’s a woman.”
A long pause. “O-kay. You seem pretty sure about that.”
“Oh, I am. I have to go, Luce.” He hung up on her concerned response. For long moments, he sat there staring into space, trying to get his anger under control. Then he realized he didn’t want to get it under control. In his life, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. He didn’t have a name for the foreign emotion boiling in his chest. Just knew that in one fell swoop, Hayden had managed to take away everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. Every day, he got up and busted his ass to provide for his loved ones. It’s how he defined himself. How he looked at himself in the mirror. What the hell had been the point if someone who didn’t understand the concept of money just made a phone call and took the privilege away from him?
As if on cue, the connecting door opened and Hayden walked in looking so goddamn beautiful it made breathing difficult. She smiled as though she hadn’t just turned his world upside down by passing on her American Express number to pay for his sister’s education. As if she hadn’t just stripped him of the only thing he had. His pride.
“Story called. They want to check out and grab brunch somewhere before heading back. Sound good? Daniel said he’ll show up when he’s ready, whatever that means.” Her easy glide in his direction faltered. “What’s wrong?”
“When did you do it?” he said quietly, voice echoing in his own ears. “Did you even consider consulting me first?”
“Do…what?” She shook her head. “I’m not following.”
He pushed off the bed, scoffing as he passed her. “My sister just called me. If your plan was to play stupid, you should have made the grant anonymous.”
She stared at him for a beat. “You might as well be talking in Swahili. I gather you’re upset, but I assure you I’m not playing stupid.”
“Right, Hayden. Just keep up the act and maybe the idiot mechanic will eventually buy it.” He shoved his wallet and keys into the front pocket of his jeans. “My sister just called. The Winstead Foundation paid for her college tuition. Selected personally by Miss Hayden Winstead herself.”
Her face drained completely of color. She opened her mouth to speak but only a few confused words emerged. “I don’t…but that makes no…sense.”
Even with righteous anger coursing through his veins, the sight of her in distress felt like a hard kick in the stomach. He dismissed his need to yank her into his arms and forgive her, just so she’d smile again. But he wouldn’t mean it. So he stood his ground.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You tried to pay me after our last night together.” His pronouncement caused her to fall back a step. He ignored the immediate sting of regret over his choice of words. There was no room for regret in addition to his resentment. “I didn’t accept your money last time. I won’t accept it this time. Or ever. Keep your goddamn money, Hayden. We’re not all sitting around hoping for a piece of the Winstead fortune.”