Hard to Find

Chapter Eight - She

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c h a p t e r e i g h t

{She}

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Jayden's POV

When our eyes meet, her swaying feet freeze. 

I stand and walk in Skylar's direction. Her eyes are wide and her water bottle looks like it might slip from her grasp. "How are you feeling?" I ask, hopping onto the counter across from her. She stares at me as if I am a complete stranger. 

We sit in silence, only staring. Then, out of nowhere, she jumps off the counter and slowly advances toward me. My entire body tenses and I swallow hard. I fill my eyes with her, starting with her face then moving down to her bare legs that are peeking out from Blake's t-shirt. It hangs loose on her body and I'm unable to look away. 

She reaches for my face, drawing my face level with hers, and my breathing hitches. Her small fingers brush my chin. "You shaved."

"Yeah," I cough, clearing my throat, acting unaffected by her touch. "I did."

"Why?" She studies my face intently. Her voice is gentle, which differs from any other conversation we've had. For once, she doesn't seem completely repulsed by my presence, and it feels good.

"It was getting long," I say.

"I liked it."

She liked my beard; I refrain from letting a smile form on my face. She turns around and tries jumping up beside me, but almost face-plants. I stick my hands out to steady her. Laughter erupts out of her and it makes me feel warm.

"I'm so wobbly." She drags out the vowels.

"Here." I slide off the counter and place my hands on her waist, lifting her onto the cool countertop. She holds onto me for dear life, tucking her head into my neck, still giggling.

I hold her longer than I should, taking in her scent and warmth. It feels wrong because she is drunk, but I fear this is the only time I'll ever hold her like this. So, I savor it.

Eventually, she lifts her head from my chest and looks me in the eyes. I tuck a stray hair behind her ear. She doesn't flinch. 

"Why'd you leave that night?" Her voice is small. "At my apartment."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I know for a fact she wouldn't be asking me this if she was sober. And who knows if she'll remember any of this.

"Well," I try to think of something on the fly. "Revenge for killing me," I say, but it comes out as a question rather than a statement. 

"Cereally?"

I let out a hearty laugh. "You mean seriously? Yes, I'm serious." But that's a lie, I'm not serious.

In the past, I've stood women up, especially if the connection wasn't right between us. However, the connection Skylar and I had wasn't the issue, it was more intense than any other woman I've been with. The problem was she was already severely drunk and I couldn't bring myself to have a one-night stand with her. Instead, I made sure she got home safe and sound, even if that meant pissing her off.

New York might be large, but I knew we'd cross paths again. Although, I didn't expect it to happen the way it did. And now I'm standing in my apartment kitchen between her legs, while Blake, her boyfriend (my roommate) is sleeping in the other room. I could laugh at the absurdity.

I can't stay away from her, but I need to for Blake's sake. He really loves her and I can't interfere.

Even though I had her first.

I'm still standing in between her legs when she lifts both her hands and shoves them in my hair, ruffling it around. "Blondie. You know that's my nickname for you? Like, how you call me Killer."

I hold my breath because I am face to face with her chest.

"Blondie, you say? I like it."

She rubs my head for a couple of seconds, then yawns. I check the time and see it's almost three in the morning. As much as I don't want to do this, I say, "Let's get you back to bed."

She lifts her arms so I can pick her up. I help her down and guide her back toward Blake's room. On the way, she stops walking and grips the wall for support. 

"Jayden," She groans. "I'm gonna throw up."

I immediately usher her to the bathroom that is thankfully close. She falls to her knees in front of the toilet bowl and releases everything pent up in her stomach. I hold her hair out of the way and rub her back.

I tell her it will be all right and that she'll feel better soon.

When she's finished, she falls back against the tub and closes her eyes. I run to the kitchen to get her water and something to eat. She graciously takes it and I warn her to drink and eat slow. She obliges and I sit down across from her. 

"I don't want to get into bed with Blake." She mutters, taking another sip. "It's too hot."

I don't want you in it either.

"You can sleep on the couch."

She mumbles something incoherent and tries pushing herself up. I walk her to the couch and then grab a pillow and blanket for her to use. By the time I come back with the items, she is out cold.

I gently lift her head and slide the pillow underneath. I cover her with the blanket and brush her hair out of her face.

She looks so peaceful now, but I know tomorrow will be rough. Hopefully, her hangover isn't too bad.

I retreat to my bedroom and open my computer, knowing I won't be able to sleep after our encounter. I can't stop thinking about what will happen tomorrow morning, or if she will even remember anything. Things will most likely go back to normal. Whatever that means.

It's my fault she despises me. Aside from the bar ordeal, if I hadn't been an utter ass to her at Dylan's dinner, maybe we would be at least friends.

I shut everything off and turn onto my side. Staring at the wall, I let Skylar consume my thoughts and eventually I drift off thinking of her. 

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Thanks for reading, xoxo Anna :)