checked the water temperature with my fingers, then stepped under the shower. I sighed, the sound vibrated in the back of my throat. I closed my eyes as the piping hot water cascaded down my overworked body. I loved a scalding shower, even though Mom insisted it would wrinkle my skin.
As I washed myself, I imagined how the night would play out. I wondered how Hayden would react and if he'd come to understand. To the outside world, it was a hard pill to swallow. Inappropriate. Corrupt. Vile. Appalling. People would say Kova was a disgusting excuse of a man, that he stripped me of my innocence, possibly even tainted me. And while I wanted to agree with those things out of spite because I was furious, I also knew they weren't true. There was more between Kova and me than just sex. He didn't strip me of anything I didn't willingly give to him.
Our connection altogether was extremely difficult to defend. He understood me, my dreams and ambitions; but more importantly, Kova understood what gymnastics gave me—individuality and freedom. A singular way to express my true character and show my resilience in the world. I was my own person.
We connected on a different level, I just needed to make Hayden see that.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and wiped the mirror with my palm before quickly drying off. I dropped the towel and slipped on clothes, then I blow-dried my long, thick hair.
Anything to stall time.
Opening the bathroom door, my stomach twisted into knots. I took a hesitant step, steeling myself, before padding across the plush carpet to the living room. The closer I got to Hayden, the closer I was to revealing the truth.
"Chinese," I breathed out, stepping into the kitchen.
He smiled, trying to cover the agitation around his eyes. The past few hours had weighed heavily on him and that upset me. He didn't deserve to be dragged into this shit.
"I ordered you the sweet and sour chicken."
"Thanks," I said, then hurried to the refrigerator to avoid eye contact. I grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Hayden, then grabbed one for myself. I uncapped it and took a sip, watching him. The silence between us was dense, I didn't know how to broach the subject.
"If you think I'm using chopsticks to pick up rice, you have another thing coming. I can't understand, out of everything that could be used to eat rice with, someone thought two sticks would be best," I blurted.
"You mean, zhu?"
I finally looked up at him. "Zoo? Like where animals are caged and put on display?"
Hayden barked out a laugh and I felt myself easing into a smile. "No, zhu means chopsticks."
I paused. "How the hell do you know this? It isn't common knowledge."
He regarded me with a gaze that said he was fully aware I was dodging the real conversation.
"My parents went through an adventurous phase where they wanted to try food from different cultures. I know that it's hashi in Japanese and in Korean it's something else."
I feigned disappointment, placing a hand over my chest. "I'm a little let down that you don't know what it is in Korean."
"Stop being a wiseass. Want to eat at the coffee table?"
We moved to the living room and sat down next to each other. We opened the lids and a puff of steam appeared before my eyes. I inhaled in delight. It'd been a long time since I had Chinese and I couldn't wait to dig in. Hayden plucked a few packets of sauce from the bag and tore them open.
Before I could take a bite, I needed to address the topic at hand. A lump formed in my throat as I turned toward him and rested my knee against his thigh. "Okay, Hayden, what do you want to know first?"
He shook his head. "Eat first, then we'll talk." He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a small flask. He held it up between us and shook it. "Vodka."
I stared at the stainless-steel container. Liquid courage was everything I needed and didn't need. "Vodka? I hate vodka. You couldn't pick something else?"
"Hey, it gets the job done, and you have a lot of explaining to do, so it'll help. I thought we could make a game of it."
A game. That's what my life came down to. A fucking drinking game.
Shame veiled my pounding heart. Averting my gaze to my crisscrossed legs, I chewed my lip. I wondered