Say When - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,11
make a move on you. Now he’s leaving with her. If you can’t handle monogamy don’t get married. It’s simple as that.” He laces his fingers together, a sigh rattling in his chest. “I suppose I’m extra sensitive to the situation. My older sister’s ex-husband was a serial cheater and when she found out it was devastating for her.” A small smile dances on his lips. “Though finally getting to deck that fucker in the face was satisfying. Never liked him.”
The situation isn’t really worthy of a laugh, but I do anyway, because the visual is entertaining. Hayden’s lips quirk at my obvious amusement.
We finish our meal and I box up my leftovers. Hayden kept insisting on paying for mine, but I adamantly refused. While the gesture was more than nice, he’d done enough for me.
“Can I walk you to your car?” He holds open the door for me as we leave.
“Uh, yeah, okay.” He follows me to where I parked, staying close but not close enough for us to touch. Reaching the blue Bug I point. “This is me.” I unlock the doors, the lights flashing.
“Have a good night, Emilia.” Those green eyes hold me hostage for a heartbeat.
Opening the driver door, I hesitate, smiling back. “You too, Hayden.” There’s a yearning inside me, one to say more. I don’t want this to be the last time I see him which makes no sense.
Tipping his head like a gentleman from a bygone era, he says in that rich deep voice; “Until we meet again.”
“Do you think we will? Meet again?”
He wets his lips, his eyes flicking over my face in a way that makes me feel like he’s trying to figure something out. “If it’s meant to be.”
“And if it’s not?” The words fly out of my mouth.
His eyes flash up to the navy star speckled sky then back to me. “Then I thank whatever brought us together for this one night.”
My heart flutters at his words and he waits while I get in my car.
When I drive away, he’s still standing there watching me go.
Chapter Four
Choosing to sleep in after the previous day’s events, I awake with a yawn at eleven. I blink at the clock in confusion at first, wondering how it can possibly be so late. I haven’t slept past nine in years, most days rising well before that without an alarm. I’ve always been a natural early riser. The numbers on the clock don’t change and when I look at my phone, I find they match.
“Wow,” I mutter, throwing my arm over my eyes. I take a moment to allow the thick fog of too much sleep to pass before I slip from bed. I nearly shriek when I come face to face with the bathroom mirror and find my hair an incredible fright. Grappling for my brush, I work it through the strands taming them into something smooth and less Medusa like.
Getting ready for the day takes me less than an hour. I figure today is as good of a day as any to start looking around for a job, plus I need to fully stock the fridge. Our parents left us with the basics—a few boxes of cereal, milk, eggs, a loaf of bread, and drinks. But there’s nothing to make actual meals with.
Grabbing my bag, I sling it over my shoulder and grab my keys from the kitchen counter. When I burst out the door, I nearly collide with the person leaving their apartment across from mine.
“Oh my God I’m so sorry—” I start, ready to apologize profusely but my words cut off when familiar sea-green eyes stare back at me with equal surprise. “Hayden?”
“Emilia?”
Several breaths pass between us, a million thoughts running through my brain starting with I never expected to see this man again and ending with how is he possibly outside my door right now?
He looks as baffled as I do, which is confusing because then that means—
He recovers first. “You live here?”
“Yeah.” I point to the closed door behind me. “I just moved in.”
“Wow.” He rubs his stubbled jaw.
“Wow, what?” I prompt, still not piecing things together.
He shrugs, a husky chuckle passing through his lips. Rocking back on his heels, he says, “It’s just that it’s such a small world and all.” When my eyes narrow in confusion, he blessedly puts me out of my misery. “I live here.” He points to the door straight across from mine.
“No,” I blurt. How? What? This is insanity. “How is this