The Enhanced

Chapter Twenty Nine

Hayden was significantly larger than me, and I had little hope of finding anything that would fit me in his closet. But something was better than nothing, I tell myself.

Eventually, we decide on another similar grey hoodie and some basketball shorts that he had tucked away, though they were basically invisible beneath the humongous hoodie.

Hayden left the room without a word to allow me to change in private and didn't come in until I called him. It made me realise that he may actually be a gentleman, despite what many people had told me about him.

Everybody had resumed drinking by the time we returned downstairs and barely noticed us coming back, which I was thankful for.

I notice that Aiden is nowhere in sight. I spend an embarassing amount of time staring out at the water, searching for the small movements of moving the bottle to his lips, but there is none.

After a while, it begins to worry me. What if he had drowned? He had been very drunk. I shake my head and tell myself he was fine, he had to be.

Hayden seems to notice my detached manner and invites me into the kitchen to make a margarita to calm my nerves and warm me up.

And so, I follow him up to the kitchen where he dips a glass in salt and cuts lemons and limes. Then, he shows me the blender, pointing out all the buttons and their purposes.

"It's complicated," I remark, "maybe I shouldn't bother learning," I lift my shoulders.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "It's not complicated. It's just a lot. There's a difference. See, well, for example, Alice isnt complicated at all, she wants popularity and whatnot, clear state of mind. But, you are complicated. Sometimes confusing, very interesting," he explains.

I tilt my head forward to hide the rush of blood to my cheeks and step towards the blender, intent on changing the subject.

I hear Hayden move from behind me and feel his hands on my hips, even through the thick hoodie I can feel his warmth. He extends his arms around me and traps me in a warm embrace. I feel myself welcoming it, the feeling of love.

Then, he readjusts his grip on my hips and spins me around. He was already looking straight at my face. He had planned this, created a smooth transition. And I didn't even find it repulsive.

He had the sequence in his head already. Look into my eyes, then at my lips, and then back to my eyes, and then kiss me.

As his head inches closer to mine, I panic, a million thoughts lass through my mind. What if he knew I hadn't kissed a guy before? What if I was a bad kisser? Did I even want this?

I had no conclusive answer for any of these questions and so without any forethought, our lips connect and he makes a rhythm.

Kissing is nothing like it's shown in the movies, or described in the books. It wasn't a fight, or an elaborate dance. It was simple, it was instinct. It wasn't perfect, his lips were slightly above mine; half and half, his lips slightly more parted than my own.

His hands on my back, while mine were on his shoulders. And it was slow and fast, but not comically, it was just our lips working alongside each other.

And it didn't feel wrong at all.

When he finally breaks away and pecks me on the forehead, there is a small, low chuckle from the doorway.

Still feeling strange and vulnerable, my head snaps to the source of the sound and sees several people standing in the doorway. Right at the front was Aiden, tired looking and clutching a bottle with a dead gaze set on his face.