Since that sexually charged evening of BDSM talk, Hayden and I keep our distance for a week.

In the mornings, we head our separate ways for work. At nights, we're at different gyms. For dinner, we order takeout or one of us cooks, but the questions are no longer too personal.

Favorite color, allergies, birthdays, etc. Shallow questions that I suppose couples should know about each other...

I don't mind that he's distant. Whatever issues he's going through, it's not my responsibility. I can be there as a friend. But my mental health and living situation are not stable. I can't let myself fall into the gullible trap of 'I can change him.' Oh no, amigo.

So I'm surprised on Friday when he calls me at work. "Hey, I won't make it to dinner."

I gasp. "Are you fake-cheating on me?"

"No..." He chuckles, but it sounds strained. "It's my mom's birthday today."

"Oh, happy birthday to her..." How weird.

"She invited you too, but I told her you're not feeling well."

"I'm not?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Well...do you want to go? I didn't think you'd feel comfortable. I...it wasn't part of our deal. So, I don't expect you to..."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense-"

"Unless you want to come." He cuts me off.

I fight back my amusement. "Do you want me to go with you, Hayden?"

"I mean, you are supposed to be my girlfriend. Fake. Fake girlfriend. So..."

"Then it's settled!"

He pauses. "Are you sure?"

"Unless I'm walking into a nude cult or a blood sacrifice ritual, yeah."

"We might slaughter a goat or two. But nothing extreme."

"Eh, fuck goats. I'll bring my set of knives to help."

~

Five hours later, I'm rocking a dusty rose dress. It hugs my body in a soft, smooth material with a long slit up my thigh. I paired it with high heels and braided my hair with loose waves.

Hayden notices, but he pretends not to.

He does that thing, where he clears his throat and looks away, like he's thinking hard about something serious.

Unlike me, who is so sneaky. I check him out without him knowing. How can I not?! He's wearing a leather belt, leave me alone.

And the way he spreads those legs while he's driving...oh, boy. Everything about him is just sexy.

"So um..." I fix my hair as he parks in their driveway. "Anything I should know about your family before we go in there?"

"My mom likes you."

"That's good news." I smile.

"Not really."

My smile drops.

He elaborates. "You're going to be bombarded by all her friends. When you want to get married. How many kids you want to have. Where you plan to enroll them for preschool."

"Um, cherry blossom season, outdoors. Three kids. No, four. And hopefully somewhere near my house with strict, but also creatively encouraging teachers."

He looks at me like I'm an alien.

"What?" I tilt my head.

"Anyway..." His gaze drops on my lap and it's an effort not to clench my thighs. "We should probably discuss where you're okay with me touching you."

"I'm sorry?" I blink about a thousand times.

"Well, we're together. I'm uh...I've never fake-dated anyone, but shouldn't we be...touching each other?"

I scoff as if I'm the experienced one. Ha. "Of course. Yeah, totally. We should definitely touch each other. Otherwise, they won't believe us."

"So..." He keeps staring at that exposed part of my thigh. My skin feels on fire. "Where?"

"Um..." I stare at his plate-sized, waiting hands around the steering wheel. With those weapons, I'm tempted to say everywhere, honestly. "Let me see?"

"See what?"

"Your hand."

"Okay..." He places it in mine.

Wow. Just...wow.

I mean, we've held hands before briefly, that time when we met his ex-girlfriend. But that was before...all this thick tension between us. Now it's even more nerve-wrecking.

"What are you doing?" He furrows his brows as I trace the vein on the back of his hand.

"What?" I ask, dragging my fingernail from his inner wrist, over his palm, all the way to the tip of his middle finger. "Do you not like that?"

He shifts in his seat. "Stop messing around."

"What? Can't a girl appreciate a nice necklace?"

A reluctant smirk forms in the corner of his mouth.

"So you're okay with holding hands?" I bat my lashes innocently.

His voice is so much thicker. "I am."

My confidence goes out like a candle when he starts to caress me back. I look down as his fingers stroke my palm, startled by how sensitive it gets me.

"You're so soft..." He muses, a soft rasp in his voice, and circles his thumb over my hand.

My throat dries up. "I-I am?"

"Mmm." He stretches those long fingers up my forearm, then curves them back to my wrist. Repeatedly. "Very soft..."

"Thank you, you're uh, very, um bulky."

WHAT?

He chuckles. "No, sweetheart. You're just small."

The word sweetheart makes me roll my eyes. Unfortunately, it also turns my face red.

I draw my hand back, ignoring the uninvited throb between my legs. "Alright, that's enough hand action. Anything else?"

He snaps back to reality also. "No. We'll, uh, just hold hands, I guess. If that's cool with you."

"Totally cool!" That was unnecessarily loud and not convincing.

"Let's go, then." He opens the car door.

"Wait, that's it?" I rush after him.

"Did you want to make out?"

Sarcastic prick. "No, I was hoping to get spanked. You don't think that'll impress my in-laws?"

"Only one way to find out." He rings the doorbell.

I stretch on my tiptoes to whisper. "Do you think it's inappropriate if I-"

"Shh." He squeezes my hand too hard.

"But-"

"Not now."

A woman yanks the door open and screams with joy. It's Hayden's aunt.

When we enter his parents' impressive house, ten more women scream in our direction. Then they run over like they've never seen him before and start gushing over everything.

I laugh awkwardly, clutching Hayden's hand for much needed support. Then his mom comes over. She's overjoyed that he's here. She gets emotional. She loves her flowers.

While I'm being showered with compliments (and as Hayden warned me, with too many personal questions) a young guy side-tackles him into a hug.

Of course, it barely moves the wall that is Hayden. He merely looks down at the guy as if he's a koala bear.

"Ew, you're here too?" Hayden wrinkles his nose, pretending to push him off of him. "If I knew you'd be here, I would've stayed home."

"Shut up, I missed you." The guy squeezes him harder.

Hayden laughs, hugging him back. "I know, I know. I missed you too."

"Dylan." Alice chides. "Don't you want to say hi to our guest?"

Dylan releases Hayden and nudges his glasses back to stare at me.

"This is my little brother." Hayden introduces him.

"Dylan, nice to meet you."

"Hazel, you too." I accept his handshake.

He has Alice's green eyes and pale skin, but no resemblance to Hayden whatsoever. His hair is black, whereas Hayden is tan with warm chocolate eyes and rich chestnut hair.

"How'd you meet this workaholic anyway?" He side-eyes him. "Who doesn't even have the time to remember if his brother is breathing."

"Who ignored my call two days ago?" Hayden grips the back of his neck so hard that his knees start to buckle. "Who ignored my calls? Huh?"

"I was studying!" He attempts to break free.

"Go outside, everyone is there." Alice shoves us out of the kitchen. "I'm almost done."

I look at the fifty pots and pans simmering behind her. "Do you need some help?"

"No, no, no. Please, go. Enjoy yourself. I'll be out in a second."

"But it's your birthday. Why are you all by yourself serving everyone?"

She laughs as if I made a joke. How odd.

"Come on." Hayden takes my hand, leading me out of there.

This is a very old-school, traditional house. Outside, men are segregated on the right side by the bar. While the women are on the left by the patio entertaining the children.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Hayden asks, his palm on my low back.

"Do I have to join them?"

"No, of course not. You're staying with me."

"Are you sure? It won't look rude? "

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" He nudges me toward a bar table with alcohol. "What would you like?"

"I'll drink with you." Dylan pops in with a mischievous grin.

"We don't serve milk," Hayden says.

"You know I'm in college, right? I can drink anytime I want when I'm there."

"Aw, really?" Hayden paces towards him and Dylan starts backing away. "You can drink anytime you want?"

"Wait, I'm kidding. I'm kidding!"

Too late, Hayden throws his arm around his neck and folds him like a purse.

My phone vibrates and I make the awful mistake of opening my mom's text message.

Mom: Hi, honey. I'm sorry to bother you, but Sergio says that he helped you with food and rent when you lived with us. Now he needs the car. I'll pay you back, I promise. I know you don't want to talk to me anymore, but please. Can you help? I won't ask for anything else.

"I have to use the restroom," I say to Hayden, walking away. But instead of entering the house, I hide in the garden nearby surrounded by roses.

Seriously? Instead of protecting your daughter, you're letting your abusive boyfriend guilt-trip me into giving up the only thing I have left?

I type, then delete. Type, then delete. The more I stand there and read what she wrote, the more defeated I feel.

What's the point of saying anything to her, when it won't make a single difference? When she'll respond with something so delusional that it'll only hurt me for hoping for something else.

"You must be Hazel." A deep voice startles me.

I turn to find an older man in a gray suit near the roses. He has salt and pepper hair, with a matching beard and brows. Despite the wrinkles, his gaze is sharp and intelligent.

"Y-yeah, why?" I put my phone away.

"I'm Hayden's dad." He approaches, tilting his head. "How old are you?"

I try to hide my frown. "Twenty-two."

"Seven years younger?" He clicks his tongue. "You go to college?"

I'm struggling to understand his motive. "Not anymore, no."

"Why not?"

Just who does this old fart think he is? "Because that's what was best for me."

"According to who?"

"Me."

"Really?"

"Yes." It's obvious from my tone that I'm done playing nice with him.

"And what do you do now?"

"I work."

"You work? What do you do for work?" How can someone who's never met me before hold so much judgment towards me? We just met. Also, who said I need his approval? Is he the President?

"I work in an office..." I leave out the part that it's a nonprofit to help people with drinking problems, because that line of thought takes me to a dark place.

He clicks his tongue. "A young girl like you...why wouldn't you go to college? Why settle?"

"Making sure I have a roof over my head is not settling. It's surviving."

That seems to genuinely catch him off guard. "Your parents don't help you out?"

Does this man live on a different planet? "No."

"Why not?"

Now is really the worst time...for such an interrogation. When my mom's neglectful text message has opened a bleeding wound. His constant questioning is like a sharp stick poking it further.

"Not every parent cares about their kid." I look down at my hands.

"How can they not care? They do. It's in their nature."

My eyes water. Maybe he's right. Maybe you just don't deserve to be cared for, the toxic voice says in my head.

"What the hell?" Hayden's figure blocks me like a concrete wall. His muscles are solid with rage, directed at his dad. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What?" He adjusts his tie. "I'm just getting to my know my guest."

"Getting to know someone and harassing them are two different things. How can you not see that she's uncomfortable? Or do you not care? Huh?"

"Does she not know how to stand up for herself?" His dad becomes serious.

Hayden chuckles bitterly. "What is she supposed to do? Slap you across the face for you to get the message? It's called common sense. Maybe you should learn it one day."

His dad's eyes widen. "How dare you?"

"How dare me?" Hayden steps into his space. "I know exactly what you're doing. She doesn't have to explain a damn thing. Not to you. Not to anyone, for that matter."

"What's going on?" Alice shows up. As if this could get any worse. "Hazel?" She gasps in horror. "Why are you crying, sweetie? What happened?"

"Ask your husband." Hayden puts his arm around my waist and turns us to leave.

Alice stumbles after him. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Home."

"You just got here!"

"Now we're leaving."

"Hayden, wait. Please." She struggles to keep up with Hayden's strides. "Son, wait. What did he do?"

"The same shit that he always does to me. I'm sorry. I know it's your birthday. I'm not trying to hurt you. But I don't want her around him."

"Look, whatever happened between you two-"

"Did you not just hear me? I don't care right now."

I catch a glimpse of her broken expression and my throat squeezes with guilt.

"We can stay-" I try to argue.

"We're not staying." His tone is tender, like he knows that I don't mean it.

"What did he say to her? Why is she so upset?" Alice pleads as Hayden opens the gate.

I stammer. "It's nothing. I'm not upset because of-"

"He needs to learn how to talk to people." Hayden cuts me off again.

"We both know he's never going to change. You can't hold a grudge against him. He's your dad."

"Is he? That's not what he said to me four months ago."

Alice cries harder. "You know he didn't mean it."

"He did." There's so much heartbreak in Hayden's quiet response. He ends the conversation by kissing her forehead. "I love you. Enjoy your party. I'll call you tomorrow."

She sniffles. "You both have to fix this. This is not right. It's not okay." Her watery eyes meet my own as Hayden takes me to his car "Bye, Hazel. I'm sorry!"

A/N
Oops, well...at least we're going to know Hayden better!
Don't forget to vote my darlings <3