Volition (26 page)

His skin is warm against mine, and as I focus on him instead of my fear, I know I’ve landed right where I’m supposed to be.

We reach my building, and we’re both soaking wet. I’m freezing, but I don’t care.

This is the longest I’ve been in the rain without having a panic attack since my parents died.

Hayden presses the elevator button, and I’m reminded of his proposition that we have a rule.

The doors open, and as he pulls me inside, I open my mouth to ask what the rule is.

I don’t have time to ask or to wonder because before the doors have even shut, Hayden’s kissing me. He’s shoving me against the back wall again, and his hands are on my hips.

My hands go to his soaking wet hair that’s now falling all around his forehead instead of his usual coif.

Suddenly, I’m not cold at all anymore despite the fact that my clothes are clinging to me.

I like this rule.

This rule is my new favorite rule in the history of the universe.

And just like that, my elevator betrays me, and we’re at my floor.

He doesn’t pull away quickly, but instead, he smiles down at me like he’s in some other world instead of being here.

The elevator doors try to shut on us as we’re exiting because we’re smiling at each other like fools.

“No,” I say to myself as I shove him away. “Not here. Clothes. I need clothes.”

I shake my head and unlock my door to try to clear my mind or else we’re going to end up somewhere else, and I’d rather be at his apartment than mine.

Catherine decorated it with too much white, and it makes me feel anxious. I need to darken it a bit, like Hayden’s. Hayden’s apartment is much more sensual and toned down than the white. It makes me feel like I’m in a hospital or Lara’s house.

I don’t want to be in either of those places. I just want to be back in Hayden’s warm penthouse.

He stands by the door because if he comes any closer, we’re not going to make it back, and we both know it. His arms are crossed, and he’s watching me gather belongings in a bag.

I hand him a couple of garment bags holding dresses that I don’t want wrinkled, especially if I’m meeting his family tomorrow. He texts Al because there’s no way we’re carrying all this back to his place, especially since it’s still raining.

I have everything I need and more, so we walk out, and I lock up.

Both of our hands are completely full, so I don’t think the rule is going to take effect on this trip.

He proves me wrong.

The elevator arrives with a soft
ding
, and he follows me as I walk in. He presses the ground floor, and when I least expect it, he leans over and kisses me softly. It’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever been given.

It’s different than any kiss I’ve ever been given because there’s something behind it.

It’s not all passion and lust. It’s something else.

Casper never kissed me like this even though I craved it.

Jesse didn’t kiss me like this because that kiss we shared was humiliating.

Hayden’s never kissed me like this, but I almost like it more than the others.

This means more.

And I want more.

Al helps us load all my belongings into the trunk of his car and drives us the few blocks to Hayden’s apartment. Al must be paid obscenely because he never objects to anything Hayden asks him to do. I wonder if Al has a family that he’s missing because he’s always here, and I start to feel guilty for using his services when we could have walked.

Hayden holds my hand the whole car ride, and I start to think we should have a rule about cars, too—except that we can’t because then we’d be that awful couple who can’t keep their hands off each other, and I hate that couple.

Al hands everything to one of the bellboys, who will take them up to Hayden’s penthouse via the service elevator. Hayden shakes his hand and smoothly plants a bill before he turns to Al to discuss tomorrow.

I zone out because I’m standing here, thinking about my life and what’s about to happen.

Not only tomorrow, but also tonight.

“Ready to go?” Hayden is talking to me now.

“Yes.”

I tell him yes because I like saying yes to Hayden Rockefeller more than I like just about anything.

This time, when we step into the elevator, I grab him before he can get to me.

My lips are on his before I know what I’m doing because I want this. I want him. I want a life with him, and I’ve never wanted a life with anyone other than Jesse before. I wish more than anything that, in this moment, I could reassign my soul mate. I wish that the powers that be would just detach me from Jesse, so I never have to think about him ever again, and I would have Hayden tunnel vision instead.

That doesn’t happen, so I have to give myself tunnel vision.

Everything is more frantic, and we’re still soaking wet. I know the doors are going to open soon and spill us out into his apartment. One of his hands is no longer on me because he’s reaching back to grab something.

The elevator jolts to a stop, and we separate momentarily.

He’s pulled the emergency stop button, and there’s an alarm ringing, but I don’t care.

I kiss him again as he pushes me into the wall, and my legs automatically go around his waist.

A voice on the intercom startles me.

“Mr. Rockefeller, there are cameras. You may own the building, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch this.”

From her voice, I’d say she’s a middle-aged woman sitting in security right now.

“So, don’t watch,” is Hayden’s golden response.

“Sir, I have to watch. It’s my job.”

He groans into my neck, and I lower my legs down to the floor. He reaches around and pushes the button in, so with a jolt, we’re moving again.

She doesn’t say anything else, and now, I want out of this elevator.

I let out an audible sigh, which makes him grin this lazy grin that I never want wiped off his face for as long as he lives.

Then, the doors are opening, and he’s picking me up and carrying me to his bedroom. His sheets are black like my soul. Good. Black is a calming color.

Except I’m only seeing red.

My shirt that’s really his shirt is on the floor by now, and his hands are running over my shoulders and down to my rib cage, his lips never leaving mine.

“Tate, what’s this?”

His fingers graze over my ribs again, and he stops kissing me.

He can feel where the letters were shoved into my skin with needles—letters that no one sees, and no one knows they exist. They’re raised because my skin didn’t handle the needle well. It bruised and scarred, and now, if you could erase the ink, the embossing would still be there.

“Can I read it?”

He looks intrigued, so I nod, knowing what he’s silently reading.

Because I could not stop for Death -

He kindly stopped for me -

The Carriage held but just Ourselves -

And Immortality.

He stares at it and runs his fingers over it again before he reads it out loud. I’m afraid he’s going to hate that I have a tattoo, but I got it in remembrance of my parents, so he can’t hate it even if he wants to.

“Emily Dickinson,” he says. It’s not a question. He knows the poem.

“I’ve loved that poem my whole life, but I finally got it when I was eighteen. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to die with them.”

He takes a step back away from me. “I know the feeling.”

There’s something dark in his eyes as he walks to his dresser. For a moment, he just stands there, and then in traditional boy fashion, he pulls his shirt off from the back.

I’m not at all expecting to see a series of roman numerals inked on his left shoulder blade.

He doesn’t turn around, so I step forward and trace each one of the numbers with my index finger. The muscles in his back flex lightly under my touch, but he doesn’t move otherwise.

XI.VII.MMVIII.

November 7, 2008.

“What is this?” I whisper.

He turns around. “My brother died in a car accident the night before his wedding.”

I take a breath because I’m starting to see part of the reason I’m drawn to Hayden. Something that’s been there all along, but I’ve only seen the surface that everyone else gets to see. The Rockefeller.

“What is this?” I ask again even though I think I already know.

Hayden takes a pause before he answers me.

“It’s his death date.”

Then, that’s it. The undercurrent of darkness that lives inside of Hayden surfaces. It’s the same kind that lives inside me, and I know it’s what drew us together and why I couldn’t place it before. He hides it so much better than I do, but I’ve never felt more emotion in my life than in this moment when I realize Hayden has something more for me than Jesse.

As he turns around, I pull him to me, and I’m standing on my toes, kissing him. He’s surprised because I think he expected me to walk away after he told me he tattooed his dead brother’s death date on his back on the left side of his body where his heart sits instead of what I’m doing right now.

Right now, it’s not enough to have just a little bit of Hayden.

I want all of him.

I want to be engulfed by him.

I want him to set me on fire and let me burn until I’m nothing but ashes.

Then, I want him to set a flame to those ashes because he’s the only one who can.

Now

THERE’S A CERTAIN beauty in sleeping beside another person. You’re in their space, and they’re in yours, and you’re both at your most vulnerable. The trust required to sleep next to someone and truly feel safe is incredible. It’s a beautiful thing to be able to roll over and into their arms, and they’re not upset about being woken. They want you there just as much as you want to be, and I’ve never felt that before now.

I’m staring at Hayden, and his death-date tattoo is facing me. I’m about to reach out to touch it when I’m startled by the sound of the elevator doors opening in the atrium and the clack of high heels that follows.

“Hayden! Wake up, and answer your phone!”

I’m about to kill him because some woman is stalking in here, looking for him, and I’m not wearing clothes.

I actually have no idea where my clothes are, so this isn’t going to go well.

I slink down deeper into his cloud of a bed when he calmly sits up and rubs his face.

“Shut up, Addison. I’m awake.”

He leans over and kisses me like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“
We’re
awake.”

It’s unfortunate that he says that last part just as she’s walking through the door of his bedroom, and her eyes go wide when she sees me cowering behind him.

“Oh.
Oh
. I see you’ve had a busy morning.”

She stands there with her arms crossed, looking at me like she doesn’t have any shame.

“It has been,” Hayden answers without missing a beat. “Addison, this is Tate McKenna.”

She comes forward to shake my hand while I’m trying to hold Hayden’s sheets up with the other.

“Addison Rockefeller,” she says. She kicks Hayden’s sweatpants out of the way as she retreats.